A blue clear sky
the leafy green trees
rainbow colored flowers
the sound of buzzing bees.

A cold crisp air
freshly fallen snow
tall leafless trees
the cold an animal's foe.

A clean leafy smell
the school bell ringing proudly
and the mockingbird's call
singing so proudly.

Bright bursts of color
pollen everywhere
little showers of rain
and a sweet smell in the air.

Music makes us lose control
until the beat is like a tsunami
surging through
and replacing the blood
in our veins
with an unquenchable fire
and the world is left behind
the sound fills our head
and our souls
those who listen together
are joined in unison
to rejoice in sync

A small gust of air
and then a flash of rainbow
A dragonfly
My thoughts wander
Why are they compared
To  majestic
Creatures of lore
When they are no longer
Than my shortest finger?
I shake my head
It is hard to stay focused
In this hot muggy air.
My fishing rod hangs limply
Over the unnervingly
Clear pond
My eyes drift over
To a patch of water lilies
Their petals droop
in the hot muggy air
I see their roots
And recall how easy it is
to pull one up and out
Stirring up the pond floor
In a flurry of mud
I sigh and lean back,
The old dock creaking
Taking special care
To avoid splinters
From the brittle wood
My feet-
Are the only cool part of me.
A drop of sweat
Snakes down my leg
And with a soft sound
Drops down
To join the rest of the water.
I am growing impatient.
The fish and I
Have something in common
We are lazy in the heat.

Pointing fingers
accusing glares
you see me as
a different creature
oblivious to me
my feelings
my opinions
prejudice in
your eyes
curious yet cruel
you want answers
so here
here is my soul
lay it across
your precious maps
and directions
pin it down
hook it up
to your machines
pull apart
the fibers of me
watch your
accusing finger
scan over
my DNA
watch is falter
as it scans
find the proof
that I am human
I am a human
yes, I am different
but others are like me
wanting to be free
of labels
and stereotypes
judges and lawyers
are baffled
leave us alone
I'm not asking you
to be my best friend
all I'm asking
is that you
will treat me like a human
give us the rights
promised to us
by our forefathers
written in iron pen
it was "we the people"
not "we the privileged"
As we live among you
just see us
as friends
as children
as humans.

I'm just a little old hoppy toad
a sitting here in the middle of the road
my skin is yellow and my spots are green
and folks all say I look real mean!

I'm just a little old hoppy toad
a sitting here in the middle of the road
my one eye is red and the other one's yellow
and if the truth be told I'm a pretty good fellow.

I'm just a little old hoppy toad
a sitting here in the middle of the road
I hop to the pond to take a swim
I plug my nose and jump right in.

I'm just a little old hoppy toad
a sitting here in the middle of the road
I jumped in the pond with a great ol' splash
here comes Mr. Snake better get away fast!

I'm just a little old hoppy toad
a sitting here in the middle of the road
just right now I'm as right as rain
and the snake to this day hasn't caused me any pain.

Over the sprawling hill
With labored breath
I burst over the top
The sun has beat me though


It’s bright yet cold rays
Illuminate the morning scene
Hardly breaking to skirt around trees
And clearing the diamonds of dew.


The emerald valleys and pale peaks
Seem to shiver
As the dawn chases away
The chill of the night.


I smile as the soft colors
Though not as vibrant as dusk
Gradually fade away
And the birds begin their songs


Their songs echo
Through the endless yet grounding
Green hills and valleys
Of  Saratoga Park.


They seem like a tribute
A monument
To the cost of freedom
Here fought for.


A thump is heard
As I collapse on to the damp earth
With the futile attempt
To absorb the serenity.

Mid bitter air,
and swirling storms
old Washington Park
may seem forlorn.


Many a stranger
rush through the snow
eager to leave,
eager to go.


The benches were cold,
frosted with white
not a decent seat
to spend the night.


Standing overhead,
the benches of white
were tall lanky lampposts
lighting the night.


And if a stranger
would stop to take a look
the scene might really
be from a book.


The proud  trees were adorned
with teardrops of ice,
When  the sun hits just right,
it looks quite nice.  


Beneath the trees,
lay soft white snow
under the tall lamps
it seemed to glow.


Some may dash,
Through the cold bitter air
Wrapped in scarves,
Not seeming to care.


That they are missing
Much more than they know,
But just can’t see it
‘Cause all the dang snow

I am a girl of solitude
My thoughts
Are simple tales
Of confusion
Will my words always be
Darkening coals
Instead of leaping flames?

I am neither free or in prison
Without light
I still long to speak
Seeking danger
While pleading for rescue
Seems to be my futile attempt

Abandoning hope,
A cry of anguish
Escapes my mouth
It quickly closes
Startled
I can speak?

I try once again,
But this time
I sing  
The words are nothing
But it's pure tone
is everything to me

I can speak.
As I sing
The muddle
Spills out
Like water
Tumbling over stones
It rushes to leave
As light pours in.

As the last drops
Of darkness
Trickles out
I wonder,
Has sunlight
Always been this bright?

My mind and eyes
Must have been
Simply asleep.

A fire burns in my throat that can not escape,
my restraining tongue and lips bind it.
they should be grateful for this tongue of mine,
for if the fire escaped,
they would no longer be laughing.
For my fire is one of vengeance,
a searing whip; that on it,
has the broken shards of a soul.
They would feel the backlash of their taunts,
their stereotypes,
and their prejudice,
along with their own scorn.
But I hold my tongue,
creating the illusion that I am naïve,
a timid bird with shut wings;
I am something different though.
I am the feeling of exuberance,
of hard won independence,
a roaring beast thats magnificent wings
are aflame.
Aflame with the sweet knowledge of truth.
sparking with the truth that justice exists,
and tables can turn.
Lucky for them,
my phoenix of revenge
lays smoldering in the dark.

I am the observer, the artist.
I wonder the thoughts of others.
I hear the unheard cries for help.
I see the details that disguise hidden pain.
I want to reach out across the globe.

I am the observer, the artist.
I pretend that I could inspire people.
I feel in my heart I can't.
I touch the minds of the innocent.
I worry that my best won't be enough

I am the observer, the artist.
I cry for those whose survival is uncertain.
I understand that second chances exist.
I say to try harder.
I dream that we will be loved.
I hope I can make a difference.

I am the observer, the artist.

I've gone around the world in my life
seen wonders and monuments
hasn't taken much strife.

The sights and the smells that I've had for myself
and the stories I've heard
I cannot retell.  

I've been greeted by all, sometimes hugged
but always watch your back
'cause once I was mugged.

Night's dark warm embrace,
the presence of a blanket,
bright sparks in the sky.

Dawn's rosy fingers,
pull the sun out from hiding,
leaves diamonds on the grass.

The sun gets bolder,
now burning off the diamonds,
starts a scorching reign.

Dawn now pronounces,
the hot sun's job is now done,
Night comes once again.

Hot and sticky
this yellow pollen is
plugging up
it so seems
my entire head
I can't think straight
my mind is blank
my nose feels
twice as large
my brain is full of cotton
I can't hear
a single thing you say
The streets
are covered
in this dreaded color
Until the next day
when a heavenly cloud  
is spotted
and luckily another
and then another
a single drop descends
and is followed
It  banishes
the hot sticky air
to be replaced
by a wet and fresh smell
the yellow pollen
is washed away
from the streets
and my head

The summer's done
we're now in school
the winter's to come
no more with the pool.
The winter's to come
with frost and snow
now it's Autumn
the pumpkins are aglow.
Halloween is fun
a candy galore
Skittles, Smarties
I can't eat anymore!
Family comes over,
for a gigantic feast
the last piece of pie
turns kids into beasts.
The colors of change
are red orange and brown
swirling tumbling
but then come down.
Now the ground is art
a beautiful show
warm colors overlap
brief before snow.

Here in the world
a soft heart
is seen as a weakness
but how can it be a weakness
when a world
of spikes and metal
cannot break it
kindness and empathy
go hand in hand
a firmness in mind
and a strong yet soft heart
are the real talents
of our confused race.

Hear the words
of a trembling parent
whose limbs you
must soon  lay down
in the cold and silent grave
from whence no traveler
can return.
a few more days
and they go
the way of all the earth.

Each time
you glance
in my direction
speak my name
or touch my hand
my heart
draws closer
and ties
another knot
binding us together
and this is why
when you
have leave
I  have to follow.

A winding snake
though misjudged
as a fiery coal's warmth
winding through man
binding us together
sometimes unwanted
no choice to choose
dangerous yet treasured
a somewhat paradise
blossoming in flames
or a gentle nudge
like lilies swaying in the moonlight
stealing a breath
quickening the hear
occupying thoughts
our culprit is love.

Grey smothering static
Someone must have pushed pause
On my emotion remote
The bedsheets are my comfort
The tattered yet loved bear
Seems to be my only friend
Firm yet gentle grip
Leaving small red imprints
Leads me to soft couches
Leads me to ****** in the crook of my elbow
Leads me to holding an orange bottle
I never liked the color orange
Two little blue pills
”Check for improvement” they said
Oh I see improvement
It is easier to be happy
It is easier to smile
It is easier to laugh
And it is easier to cry
But it also makes it easier to fake it all.

Take the leap that steals your breath
Take the joy which you deserve
Take the hand that pulls you up
Take the chance to quickly serve.