I’ve heard it
said that hope
is a terrible
thing;

the last thing
that one does
before defeat
becomes real.

How terrible,
these thoughts
are!

Maybe…

Maybe hope
is the worst
kind of crutch
there is.

Doing is better
than hoping.

There is too
much faith in
hoping.

Doing
takes
action.

Actions
beget
results.

The hammer
drives the
nails.

The arm
swings
the hammer.

Hope doesn’t
do anything,
except waste
time.
*

-JBClaywell

© P&ZPublications

As I pulled into the parking lot,
my nerves came up.
And, I began to wonder if there’d be
enough space left for me.

Circling the lot,
scanning the spaces,
searching for one
close enough;
I parked and looked
at all the cars
their glass eyes looking
back at me.

It was heavy in that lot,
the apprehension I felt.

Somewhere in me was a small
need to be around some good people
for a few moments,
it outweighed my need to be alone
in the night.

Originally, I’d wanted just to see
the fireworks that would follow
the last offering of this city’s
summer concert series,

contented in watching the bluffs
spit fire and sparks for our
entertainment.

The final volley fades and almost
immediately a thousand headlights
ignite.

Soon enough, we few are all alone
again.

Some of these singular souls I’d
wanted to see invite me to further
the evening with food, drink, and
fellowship.

As much as I want to,
as much as I mean to join them,
I cannot.

Something melancholy has its
hooks in me,
in my shoulders.

So, all I want
is to dive into
my pool of solitude
and swim.

*

-JBClaywell

© P&ZPublications

in the fullness
of the dark,
we forget to
remember that
we’ve been only
able to see about
ten seconds worth
of anything at all.

because of nature’s
need to quench thirsty
soil she spoils our
sight of the sun’s
blackening behind the
shadow of our cratered
cousin,
with cumulonimbus.

however,
the humanity
with which I’ve gathered
for a while has been rife with
disappointment,
until just
now.

in this circle of sunset,
we are overwhelmed with
the totality,
our disappointments fade,
eclipsed by wonder
and the sudden
coolness in the air,
which is audible
in its silence.

the clouds that purloined
our sleek vantage point
are purpled
strokes of a celestial brush
that none of us could
have hoped
to lift.

now,
as the sun reemerges,
rises again,
this time in the west,

the city lights wink out
as midday returns.

we return from our own
Olympus as well,
all the better for it.
un-disappointed,
alive in a way
that
never
existed
before.    

*

-JBClaywell

© P&ZPublications

Sometimes one has to realize
that they have to be
the one to initiate change.
Sometimes one can roar and howl
into the ear of the enemy,
into the inferno, into the abyss
and achieve nothing.
Or, one can whisper in the ear of
someone who doesn't believe
or understand.
A word of kindness,
a word of faith,
and all of a sudden,
one might find that they
are speaking to an ally
where once an enemy
stood.

*

-JBClaywell

© P&ZPublications

I always want
to stay out late
and look for the untold
stories of this community.

Little tidbits of
conversations that
I’m not part of.

People are stories,
phrases,
thoughts,
ideas,
dreams.

They are moments
and memories that
they’ve collected.

I only eavesdrop
so as to borrow
briefly.

Perhaps, their happiness;
mayhap their loneliness,
to see if it matches

the
set
that
I
carry.

*

-JBClaywell

© P&ZPublications

to drink from
the river of
kindness that
flows all around
us is the goal.

to do the same from
the incoming tides
of hate is unthinkable,

undrinkable.


to have lost all
threads of faith
in: ‘We The People’,

but to have a circle
of friends to envelope
with love and compassion,

allows one to regain a
measure of faith in: ‘We, the people.’

there is a division.


it need not be black or white,
rich or poor,
left or right.

it need not be the elephant
or the ***.

there is only humanity.

(kind or unkind.)

unkind people can be
shown kindness.

Ignorance is easy.
Hate is hard.

we will not overcome.

(we’re too selfish.)

we certainly will not overthrow.

(we’re too soft for revolution.)


really, the only way that this gets better
is with pockets of ‘We, the people.’

you, and you, and you, and you.

(and me too!)

doing the best they can
with what they have
where they are.

trust that a little
kindness can go really,
really far.


*

-JBClaywell

© P&ZPublications

I’d like to.
In fact, I’d
have loved to,
but you made it
impossible.

I’d have set
myself on fire
if you’d have
asked me to.

Now, I’d let
it all burn
to ash, leave
the charred
husks behind.

Those are yours.

Not mine.

*

-JBClaywell

© P&ZPublications