Choices

This ever blotting simple thing that makes up things

as small as a mouse but also as deadly as sin itself

A simple formula of cause and effect

An effect

A result

A consequence

No pretences

Or fences that guard our decisions

Keeps it safe for being just a choice

For it is no longer just a choice

It is not that simple, see there is a formula to remember

An economic study to this choice where c=e

because

For every cause there is an effect

For every cause there is an effect

For every cause there is an effect

Let it dwell in your mind and affect you

Because that is where it all begins

Let us open up your mind and there we will find that

Alongside that implanted thought are a plethora

Of more thoughts that are placed beside your dreams

Nestled in between your hopes, skilfully intertwined with your visions

There they all lay

Our mind is our drive that takes us down

A road that is long and winding

A highway down to our hands

Which eventually become steered by, picked up with strings ever so delicately like a puppet

Held by that one thought

Your actions are birthed from your thoughts

We see these to be choices

To study these choices would be economics, to understand them would be sympathy

To take a leader who steals from his country

Or a mom who abandons her child to keep herself alive

And view this as sad, as a cry for help?

How and why?

Oh no! We do not stop at just those two ghastly choices

For this is a study of many

Choices

Of things that have happened to determine what will and to save us from what has been

Let us open up this book

And flip each page to see what decrees and laws

Revolutions and words put down on paper

Have anything to do with where we stand today

For the choices of the past still linger here

Mixed in with the choices of the present

Creating this air that we breathe in and out every single day

We would be infuriated with rage as we scan through the pages of this book of choices

A chapter of injustice

A paragraph of cruelty

A statement of selfishness

A line of adultery

But, wait! Oh, let us stop on this

One

story

For this I do not even understand

See I have studied choices, and put them into many formulas

To see the effects and the causes of each

but this story is different

For it is not just one chapter

One statement

One line

It is the whole story and each is intricately woven within it

In fact, the book is titled for this one story

And to begin it would be to start off with a choice

By a God

To send his son

To die for men

Men whose choices we see throughout the whole book

Men whose choices are vile and selfish and ruthless

Sinful men

*****

And yet a God so Holy and pure still sends down his son in His likeness for these grimy men??

See, if we picture it. It is a white cloth, pure and clean not just dipped but completely submerged in dirt

Now that is not a choice that I would make

But it was made

A man so untainted and holy

Came down

To die for the sinner

Who stole from the helpless woman in the ally

Who murdered an innocent child in the womb

Who told a tiny white lie to his mom and dad and gave himself away to drugs and peer pressure

Who lusted after the world and what seemed good but really was death covered in make up whispering

in the promises lie after lie

To die for the sinner who is you

You

Jesus chose to die for you

On that cross, with his hands bound by nails and his feet the same

And with every last breath, last drop of blood and whip of the chain

he thought of you

and that is a choice that no study, no analyzation could ever make sense of

but it was done

it is done

is what he said for you as his arms were spread out wide

and all your choices

he negated the effects, and ultimately the effect of death

and formulated a solution of eternal life instead

for this one choice

changed all the rest

Now, think, think it through

Every choice you make

and every choice that was made is made brand new, infused with grace

Remember this for when there is a test the formula of cause and effect

Still stand true

but also remember Jesus who did what you had to do

for you may make many more flawed choices without a thought

Therefore go down on bended knees gaze at the cross

where stood the Father’s son

never a doubt that this choice for you was a wrong one

that any effect wouldn’t be worth it

you are worth any effect

you are an effect

of that one choice made on the hills of calvary

look up at the cross when your lewd effects force out the mistakes of your personal choices

then resurface that one choice made 2000 years before

bring it up amongst all the confusion and chaos

study it’s economic worth

hold it dear

smile at it even for

that senseless,

unexplainable,

brilliant,

grand,

intricate,

lovel­y,

merciful,

gracious,

holy,

divine,

choice

is all for you

For I did not come here in hopes of a hello

Of a simple stroll down our village

Or an acknowledgement of my existence

I came here because I care

I care

I see in your eyes the difference

Cover up with words soothing to the ear

But actions onset on hindrance

I did not come for a duet

Or a memory that we’d never regret

A heart to heart throughout the night

I did not come for my own benefit

I come because I care

I care
I worry, in fact

That you do not realize

How much you are
Who you are

Or your worth


Because the things you do show otherwise
But see in my eyes, and the eyes of others

Too concerned while we watch the beautiful eagle continue to believe he’s just a worm

You’re too distraught by the blindfold in front of yours

To realize the cries for help

Drowned out with insanity

Because the world is stealing your flame

While you continue to be baffled by the pickpocket’s show

"Do not take it!" I scream

“Do not let it take you!”
but those eyes

So precious, full and alive

are 

still

blindfolded.

The procession goes on while the main attraction continues to burp out synthetic love and false hopes

Temporary 
enjoyment

And you have become the fool of the show

With that blindfold 

Darned, pestering blindfold.

I will still scream for its demise!

I will still plead for the final scene!

I will rip away the curtains held up with burgundy lies!

I will still care.

The show must eventually stop!

For actors must be given a break and plays must be forgotten

To not be cliche

There will be a time when there are no more encores

An end to the grand show

scattered flowers on the first row

And utter silence in an empty space

A dangerously

Dark

Desolate 

Stage

But I will still be there


Holding a match for a new flame




And a warmer smile

For I care

I truly care

The easy road always leads to Nowhere.

I knew it before. My momma had warned me of it, of what I would see. I had two roads to choose from when it was time for me to go, when I would have to leave the comfort of my red bricked cottage.  

I saw in front of me two roads diverged in a yellow wood.

Momma warned me about that easy road. "It leads to Nowhere," she always said.

Yet it was so attractive with its lush scenery and spacious roads. An entrance, painted bright blue. “Welcome to Anywhere!" In fact, many stayed awhile on these roads and gathered among themselves in trivial conversation. There was no need to hurry, no place to be over there in Anywhere.

Laughter could be heard from miles away.

The road so simple could always be seen from the road so hard, sending down envy into the very stomachs of those brave enough to enter it.

The hard road was absolutely terrible.

It took too many sacrifices and short-lived enjoyments. No pretty signs welcomed me in. Only a caution to the cowardly lay hidden among scraggy thorns.

The entrance was vile, a landscape unpleasant to my eyes.

Pain and sadness waited often on the sidewalk there. No mercy for those who slipped and showed a bit of weakness. The roads were bumpy and tumultuous. One cannot simply count on their fingers how many times they would trip on this road.

The hard road was less traveled and therefore extremely lonely. No person in sight. No sound could be heard except for the eerie laughter echoing from the roads of Anywhere.


..But, boy, let me tell you. I have come to the end of that road, calloused and bruised

and my joy lay in the knowledge of the fact that Somewhere was waiting for me.

The hard road leads to Somewhere.

When I reached it that was when I knew:

Somewhere is so much more better than Nowhere.

Even better than Anywhere

Somewhere is worth it.

And to see it on the horizon, at the end of the long road of hardship..

when there were no more pebbles to step on

or pain lurking in the shadows to be afraid of

I knew right there and then

Somewhere was deserved by me

Somewhere was mine

and that has made all the difference.

write as if you have something to say
because you do

write as if the sky wasn't blue and every day is as upside down as the next
write in colors then write in black and white

write to me
write to those who need it the most, even if they won't admit it

write about your dreams and hopes for the future
and watch them come alive before your very eyes

as you write whatever thought comes out of your head
though it may sound like gibberish

write because you can
it is your freedom

write novels that span pages upon pages bound together by leather or
some short words

write as if he didn't break your heart
and then write as if he did to piece it back together

write to unlock doors and open minds
write to make others and, more importantly, yourself aware

write because you will see
you will see your ideas trickle down into your fingertips and out your pen

onto a tangible and real medium that you may look back on one day
and remember why you started writing in the first place

write to make sense of what doesn't
in hopes that, one day, it'll be more than just in writing

write and fold it into a creaseless paper plane
let it fly and, boy, enjoy seeing where it takes you

then write to: home on one of those rectangular postcards
document every day and its little details

write it all down
and then live it all out

I’ve always hoped to have my father’s eyes

the kind that “smiles wrinkles” without a smile

that discerns with wisdom and fills up with pride

there jolly joy resides



I’ve always dreamed of having my grandfather’s ears

and all the stories they would hear

with a mouth to match and tell me true

to whisper to me lullabies too



I’ve always wanted my mother’s hands

that brought love and calm without demand

the ones that enveloped me with love

and kisses I’d never get sick of



I’ve always adored my grandmother’s laugh

as she cuts her doughnut to give me half

which echoed the halls every night

divine, delicious, delight



But nothing has passed on except what I know

of my ancestors and their quirky shows

that taught me how to appreciate

and enjoy the simplicity of traits



So here, I am me with simple eyes

stout little ears filled with lullabies

entangled with love and peace and quiet

until laughter comes knocking at night

Did  I wake you in the night
from the tossing and the turning?
nightmares who present to me fright
and a heavy heart a' yearning

Venice was where we wanted to go
the thoughts remind me of when
we said we'd follow the river's flow
problems, never to see again

but life has caught us in it's clutch
you are not as well as before
yet you never complained, said it's too much
with a smile and the pain you ignored

while dawn settles in, I let hope whisper
"(when) you are well, we will journey the river."

Careless actions and careless words
Break
The very threads that I keep trying to mend and
You're moving at a faster rate
Than I can fix

I knock on his door
With a basket in hand
A celebration
A feast
Enough for two
Or three or more

But just for us
Because this is a momentous occasion

He let's the door creak
Gloom in his eyes
For he has stayed up the whole night
In pain
In disbelief

But I come to him with a picnic
With a celebration

I lead him to the highest hill
It takes us awhile
yet when we reach it
He breathes in fresh air

And I shout for joy
He just smiles

We are here now having a picnic
a feast for victors

The wind blows so softly
Up here
And I feel it through my hair
He does too on his scalp

I notice him
He looks so different, his frame smaller
But his spirit stronger than ever

I see him take a deep breath
I see him take in the view
I see him take a sandwich
I see him

I propose a toast while his hand quivers
'here is to you and your victory! You've come so far..'

He only assures me with a nod
But that's okay,
He's here with me
He made it.

Maybe, just maybe
the rushing waves aren't there to hurt you.
Maybe the breaking down of the rocks, the itty bitty bits of sand that fall off with every tumultuous
crashing of each wave
beating upon what is
supposed to be so strong
falls quickly in oceans of beauty, travel down streams of
deep and rich blue

Here lies the last of us.
Not the us that you'll look back on as the best friendship ever
or the us that I hoped we would be
but whatever mess of an us that we are
or we tried to be

I tried
at least, I tried
to make an us
I tried to pretend
that hurricanes and
droughts couldn't hold back the us that
I held on to for too long, too much
to the point where I broke us, it crumbled
not into shards of glass like they said it would
oh how easy it would have been to pick those up
and allow time to put it back together
but we, us
crumbled like fine sand

and the wind carried us away
each grain of a story brought into new lands

you are in a different place now

Here lies the last of us.
I am at the shore where the waves crash ever presently
you, you are in a jar
a memory of a place to someone new.

Life is like a rollercoaster
You're in for one heck of a ride
At times you can get nervous
Butterflies inside

Fear can strike your very core
As you observe its height
But as you see it more and more
Anticipation rides

Down and up
Up and down
The worst parts followed by the best
And when you reach the highest top
Your fear is put to rest

As the ride comes to a stop
You can look back and observe
That you accomplished a life so great
Every twist
Every turn
Every curve

So don't you worry about being alone
There are people in the seats by your side
Enjoy life, the rollercoaster
You're in for one heck of a ride

I want to know
All it took
to get to this point
Right here
Right now

Your "hello, my name is _"
Will carry the weight
Of your struggles
Of your mistakes
That were really lessons learned
And have made you into the
Strong and secure person you are today

And the answers to the endless prayers
I offered before I even knew what
Name would fill in that blank

What did it take for you to reach this moment where we meet?
The lines that we will draw to connect all the dots together
No matter how seemingly insignificant
Or painful those dots may be

The end is our own little masterpiece
Our own story backed up by a million more stories
And the prologue
to rest of our lives

Never fall in love with a poet.

Her familiarity with words
How she can gather and pick the best of consonants and syllables from the white picket fenced field that has a sign near the entrance labeled  "alphabet"
and with this she may offer you a bouquet of sentences carefully articulated and placed in a specific manner to look effortlessly marvelous

How she will always fall asleep with a thought
And turn them into thought infused dreams
And then churn this mixture in the mechanisms within her
Bring forth a lovely array of vocabulary that sounds like rhythmic melodies to your ears

Never fall in love with a poet.

She will know your words all too well
Because she knows words all too well
She knows that they aren't always what they seem
And no matter how many words you offer back to her in return
A lesson is engraved within her heart which solely believes
that words can not be given alone

The beauty of words must be matched with the strength of actions
Less your beautiful words will be nothing but a distraction
Without the fibers of action to hold your words together, to wrap her up in a cloth of security and warmth
Everything you will say and have said before is just
sweet poetry

And she, my dear, is a poet
Who has too many a poem tucked away in the deepest corners of her heart
What good will just your poem do?

I find it funny how we always try
to cover up ourselves with the
smallest particles of powder
and colored dust

to change the pigments
of our natural skin tones and hues
that pride in the beauty marks
and dimpled cheeks

how we are enamored by the world
and what it tries so hard to be

but we don't even realize that we
have come from dust ourselves
we make up the fascinations

without even trying

the difference with us and the dust of the world
is that we were hand chosen
to be made into an image
from the Heavens
beautiful

Words
Upon words
Upon words
Upon
Words

Intertwined
Placed beside
Complimented, no
Meshed
With

Actions

That don't quite match up

Well you have shown me your true character
through distance's filters
When I gave you the benefit of the doubt
you left for some time and came back
offering in return your inconsistencies

Don't get me wrong
It's not that I'm mad at you
I'm the farthest from that
I just hoped you would have chosen
to prove them wrong

I just hoped that you'd be different

Even if our what if will always still be suspended in the air
And I will be forced to breathe it in and out once in awhile, remembering your smell
I'm on solid ground
And no matter how many free moving particles of our what if roam the skies
What's sure is keeping me on the steady floor

Our what if may never be seen, even if I may feel it once in awhile
But my here and now is where I walk on
Even if it's just one step at a time
I'm moving forward
And my when is in my view.

Have you ever heard
of such a thing
as being heartbroken
for hearts, not your own?
absurd

tell me please

because I do not seek a remedy
for myself
to soothe my ailed heart

see,
it's not my heart that's shattered

but
I'd let it shatter

oh, I would

if it could make yours whole again

I.
how do you move on when your heart can barely keep up with your feet monotonously dragging across the ground?
II.
you're at the subway, it means nothing to you now
I watch you take in what once was our city and breathe in the fresh air
while I suffocate in your perfume with every inhale
III.
every exhale is meant to be an "out with the old"
but I know that carbon dioxide only enters the plants we grew together and brings back the very same oxygen again
IV.
You wanted to grow a whole garden of different flowers
because you wholeheartedly believe that the world needs more beautiful things
V.
I hope you still know that you're that beautiful thing in this world.
VI.
But now
VII.
I will wake up each morning knowing that the sun rises for me as well
Your smile will fall into the lists of things I love, but I now revel in the things that made and still make you smile
the things that took your breath away
VIII.
They take my breath away too.
IX.
I no longer need to breathe in your air, breathe out my worries, or leave this city.
X.
I've found what's made you so beautiful, and it's slowly changing me too.

all you asked for this Christmas was for me to be well

I'm pleading that for you

"Maybe I can't stop the downpour, but I will always, always join you for a walk in the rain." He said leading the way.

And the worst kind of reminder
Is not in the reactions of the people
Or the lack of

It is not in the soil that you stand on
For over time it will come
Back. Renewed
Material

It is not in the written
Down words
Even the ones
etched in stone

Instead,
It is in the the souls of eternity
The way beyond
The lives of the future generations

Who will reap our complacency

For the past couple weeks, the lights have been kept on and I can finally see how much I meant to you.

I wish it was dark again.