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 Jun 2016 A Psalmist
Miss Honey
Doesn't summer feel hostile?

Your hot skin drips honey
that wastes into the pavement

It feels raw

Naked bodies
bathing sweetly in a sensuous river
Tired books in the hands
of holy women

Thinking all morning
about sweet peaches
And all night
about salvation
unfinished?
 Jun 2016 A Psalmist
Brian Goosen
As I sit here and reflect,
Reflect back on the changes.
The changes life brought from my stubbornness,
which left me crumbled and attainted.

From waking up in the morning,
& crawling to the washroom.
Only to set myself up for a day,
a day I wished I could step through.

The agony of humanness,
relentlessly pierced my brain.
The pain set a foundation of misery,
which snuck out & made me plain.

The rust around my bones,
framed my lack of lust.
The lust to live vibrantly;
could it be cured? I'd grow to trust.

A time of immobility, I wished I could relay.
Relay the message to the One,
Only to curse His plan, yet obey.

Obey the principles of gratefulness,
is what I was told.
Told to let go of what I can't control;
Yet these words seemed entirely dull.

The unwillingness to carry on,
from an internal cascade.
Unable to unleash my anger & frustration,
& failing to convey.

Convey my state of mind,
to the people I love most.
Before they thought I'd overcome anything,
but this me was a ghost.

A ghost of who I am,
departed from uniqueness within me.
Bearing my helpless mood out on caring hearts,
even those dearest to the.

The, as in I,
or the other way around.
Separation from oneself was desired;
but I realized the gates of self shall forever surround.

What was brought forth was an opportunity,
& a revitalization would occur.
Problems did arise from my setback,
But in this moment, I pulled out each burr.

Happiness from the thought of what will be,
while having to endure what was.
In this moment my eyes opened wide,
like the strength of a strong wind gust.

Patience is a virtue,
at least this is what I'm told.
To hold onto anger is useless,
& the point is to unfold.

Unfold the despair,
& find faith in the cycle.
The events of life are ever-changing,
& like earth's marks, are insightful.

Movement is progression;
it can be painful, yet pure.
Erosion happens with time,
& we were placed here to endure.

Endure life with patience,
where faith will persevere.
Life is not a movie,
where problems can't be severe.

We must accept change as part,
part of our little world.
What surrounds us is vital;
alike the three letter word.

A word stemming from trust,
the word stemming from faith.
The three letter word is His,
and this, we must not mistake.
This is the story of how a year long injury can take control of your every thought. I was depressed along the ride but finally came out of the funk with patience and faith.
Its about noon on Wednesday
UCLA had a shooting

Fox news reports
that the kids are still
trapped in the classrooms
waiting

Now that it is contained,
the excitement has died down
from our side,

but the kids there will always be

The guy in the science building that heard the doorknob wiggle as bullets wailed in the distance.
The girl that peed herself because she was afraid she wouldn't make it to her sister's Quincinera.
The teacher who never thought he'd see the day.

We're left with our hands up,

'Is this it?'

Is this what we're left with?

A man, full in his head,
bored at his hands

and a gun?

'Is this it?'

and two sets of parents, who won't see their children grow to be the ones who walked at graduation.

'Is this it?'

— The End —