it happened again
another life taken
****
i
am
so
tired
of
this

i thought
this is
the reality of being black
the least i could do
was bear witness to
that fateful moment
when two men thought
they had the right
to play God

to knock you over
and look down on you
as they pulled the trigger

the racism in their bullets
make wounds that
never heal
in hearts that are
still beating
and i'm so sorry that
the last thing you saw
were hateful eyes

i'm sitting here and
pleading insanity
on behalf of humanity

bullets in black bodies
from the hands of
ignorant and aggressive
white men
who ****** without
repercussion or remorse

the cycle repeats
as the definition states

bullets in black bodies
from the hands of
ignorant and aggressive
white men
who ****** without
repercussion or remorse

what is it going to take
to remedy this pain
please someone assure us
that this time
his life will
not be in vain

we have to change
and stop living in
America: the land of
the insane.

In awe of the law
that beats until you're raw.

Your face plastered universally.
You never got to go to University.

As if that's the worst of it all,
even though you've lived in fear
since you could crawl.

Got bullied in school
but you kept your cool
knowing reciprocating the behavior
wouldn't do you any favors
in a place where your neighbors
treat people like flavors
picking favorites, discarding others.

As if we don't all belong to a mother
who gave love and taught us what's right
along with advice not to fight.

Your fight is your existence she said.
She got through to him,
but not before the bullet
got through his head.

a mile wide
and an inch deep

that's the kind of stuff
that will get you stuck
up **** creek
without a paddle

without a paddle
what is one meant to do

you understand
the motions
yet have no feasible way
to implement that knowledge

and now everyone is looking
at those stuck in the creek
in boats that all have a leak
as if it's their fault
what they were given
was faulty;
useless

trust me
here is the truth in this:

until we're working on
going an inch wide
and a mile deep
in a boat that can
sufficiently carry you where
you need to go

where you come from
will always determine
if you get caught
in the undertow
of a system that
only cares about you
if you were winning
their game in the first place

last year you died.
but really,
two nights ago you died.

you died doing what you love,
but that doesn't make me
any less angry at the world
for taking you from us.

forget us.
my mind is spinning in circles
because you gave so much
and had so much left to give
it's not fair you fell taking that picture
that likely would have opened people up
the moment they saw it
and read your sweet soothing to the world.

so young.
you realized your dreams so young.
most never do in a lifetime,
i guess that means your time was up.

you know what they say,
only the good die young baby.

I wonder if the ocean
ever gets tired of being pulled by the tides
if there are days
she just doesn't want to rise
and instead,
wallow in the abyss of her cries?

What about when
her feet are ripped from the shore
though she wanted to stay
a little bit more?

Caught in the fishing line
of time
barely stepping into a moment to play
before it's washed away.

Ever changing are the tides
her heart rides
and it's really no surprise
that's where the magic lies;
in a place hard to find
when she's sinking down blind
but when her face reaches the sun
you'll know it has really begun.

I am in tune
with the Universe again.
Thank you June
thank you Moon
thank you signs
telling me everything is in line.
Thank you sun
thank you fun
thank you for showing me we're "one."

Thank you grief
despite the fact your visit wasn't brief
you taught me how to hold on
to visions long gone
how to climb my way out
of doubt
in myself.
How to sit with discontent
trying to pay rent
for my own existence in every instance.

Thank you pain
thank you gain
it's really all the same.

Have you ever sat
in the middle of a river
whose waters whisper
the secrets of life?

Behind you, the sound of
your memories flowing back
some reach you with a smack
opening an old crack.
Others, pleasant recollections
of sight, sound and touch
from the waters brush.

Ahead, the sound of possibilities
of who you choose to be
go on endlessly
the waters ebb and flow
with you as you go.

From where you are the end isn't clear
and that's not something to fear
revel in this moment, being here.
There is only this one.
Close your eyes, and another has begun.
Don't wait for the rise and fall of the sun
to seize what you want from life
to be static is to suffer from a psyche in strife.
Stop gluing yourself to places that
are not your home
give up the fight
there is nothing to combat.
Live in self-made hell
or abolish the shell
of your expectations
if you want to live a life of jubilation.

I am not
who I want to be
like the addict
with the needle
I'm stuck on
being feeble
seeing moments
and not seizing them.

In the mirror
my reflection is
that of someone I recognize
like the friend
who always seeks advice
but never follows it
my mind is
a schematic of pipes
that do not connect.

My intentions
drip from my
open ends
once real and
once there
each one
broken by distraction.

My focus is
honed in to the
weight of the world
like the single mother
spread too thin
fighting this many battles
I'll never win.

My content heart
seems to depend on
factors outside myself
like the young girl
caught in the politics of
middle school social hierarchy
I can't make decisions
when I can't hear myself.

Listening to my intuition
is something I've
forgotten to do
it's muscle memory
like tying a shoe.

It's seizing moments
reflecting on my life
living according to morals
and recognizing that action
sometimes belies intent
and it is then that
apologies are necessary
they are
not signs of weakness
when they are used right.

It's focusing on
the right things
in deep
meaningful doses
making sure to stop
and smell the roses
to your heart's content.

painting pictures in my head
with the brush of memories
that exist because i do
& so do you

discovering & remembering

being in two places at once:
here
&
the part where i'm not anymore

two narrators in my mind:
soak it all in, it's beautiful
&
because you soon you won't be here

browsing through the works of art
stone carved in my mind
will sustain me & soothe the pain
of missing the pieces of my heart
i don't get to touch everyday

& from now until i hold them again
my mantra will be:

these goodbye's are temporary
soon we will meet
on the other side of ourselves
& i can't wait
to get to know you again

What must it be like
to live life
pinned against a knife
perpetually threatening strife?

To have no control
over the fate of your soul,
what then, is the goal?

Incessant submission
detached from vision
there are no provisions
no friction permitted in this prison.

No deviation,
we are a subservient nation,
now turn on the station.

They'll play charades
with the blade
and act like they aren't to blame.

I stood at the sink today
Warm water on high
Washing away paint
Like it was therapy –
It was.

It swallowed me up –
The motion of peeling off
Gooey used-to-be
The possibility of being something else –
Paint.

Like peeling off my own skin
I was ripping off layers of being
What if I didn’t? But what if I did?
What if it was? But what if it wasn’t?

As I stood at the sink today
I watched trees dying out the window
And it was really something spectacular
Falling one by one –
Decay.

The sky
is an ever fleeting masterpiece
and I've outgrown the confines
slapped on my abilities and mind
when I walk down the path
we're all shackled to,
but never question why.

The crowded path it too lonely
so I take one for me only.

I am as
vast
dynamic
ephemeral
as
the sky
when I look through my mind's eye.

I feel empty
void
of myself
of the facets
of my personality
and the pieces
that keep me whole

but the pieces are still here
blocked by fear
and incessant worry
until all of life is blurry

that's what happens
when you're in a hurry
for answers
in a sea of life's dancers
living by unhealthy mantras

shut off the noise
and turn out the lights
at the end of the night
everything's alright.

Today I looked into your eyes
and saw straight into your soul
elation was all I saw
reminding me of our fatal human flaw
in finding any reason not to be happy.

Why would we choose to be free,
when we can hold
grudges
and contempt?
When we feed hate to our hearts
we will always be starving on discontent.

I can't formulate any words
as comforting as your favorite blanket might be
or the smell of your home,
familiar faces,
and friendly streets
where it's no longer safe to meet.

But know, that when I caught your gaze
and our eyes locked
you reminded what it means to act with pure love.

Like an electrical bolt to my system
you revealed what I was missing.

Apples are not oranges
they cannot be compared
but any pain that I've been through
doesn't scratch the surface of yours.

I am overjoyed by the smile on your face
while simultaneously disgusted
with the entire western human race
that forced you to endure tragedy
then had the audacity
to label you a threat
unworthy of our compassion
undeserving of our resources.

When our backs are turned against the oppressed
it sure is hard to see they don't live like the rest
pushed to the corners of society
in the good ole' U.S.A that's our notoriety.

Any xenophobia we harbor
is just plain shameful
yet you don't see anyone as blameful
and when I think about that
I can barely breathe
How is it, that it's only love you seethe?

We drew pictures for each other
and I distracted you from your lesson
but you taught me a valuable one.

I have more to learn from you
rest assured, it won't be the last time you see me
under the Swedish sun.

There are a lot of things I don't know:
like how people think that life is just a show
or why there are reality programs for pregnant teens
that don't educate youth by any means.

I don't understand the value of a man
who advocates for abortion ban
and brushes off ****** assault
as if the man is never at fault.

I don't quite know how technology advances
have provided us with answers
when our faces are glued to screens
preventing us from understanding
what life really means.

One thing I know for sure:
I'm destined for more.

The city
First fire
Then an ashtray

The hysteric
Rat race
Fabricant fanatic

The best fantasy
Ban fear
Fiery free

The Canary case
A trash can
Transiency aches

Three faces
First near
Then far

After years
The absence
Terrifies her

Walking down the road
and the load
that I haul
is often nothing at all.

A person who claims
she sees beauty when it rains,
that has zest for life
through joy and even strife.
Why is it she wonders,
a numbing detachment
attaches to all the wrong things?

She filters
never spending enough time
absorbing fully
how blinding, how marvelous
the small details are in life
but the things which serve her ill
sneak back into her thoughts
nightly through the window sill.

This journal was never a plan
to be all that I can
just a hungover whim,
a trip to Shelburne Falls
steering clear of crowded malls
I found myself in a bookstore
whose marketing was just for me,
I could hardly help but sing
"WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT THING,
THERE'S A CAT IN THE WINDOW!"

Almost two years later
I am hardly able to fathom
the truth in the words
"these pages made her."
I etched pieces of myself
in them.
Dug so deep
I'm no longer up the creek
isn't that neat?

"That's just the way the world works,"
but what if it wasn't?

What if
instead of finding ways
to condemn people
for actions we can't comprehend
we were building systems
that don't need to "fix em"?
The leaky faucet created the flood
can't you see the stream of blood
of those who never got to swim
above the water
of the white, hetero-normative rat race?

What if
instead of accepting the destruction
of the air we breathe
the water we drink
& the Earth we stand on,
we were actively avoiding
our futile fate
where instead of consume we create?
We're not here to annihilate.

What if
instead of measuring intelligence
by how well a student can
appeal to authority
and regurgitate the wrong information
we were putting emphasis
on building good character
& pursuing passions?

Because these things
will never go out of fashion.

Tonight
tears pour out of my eyes
much like the rain from the skies.

Mother Earth and me
you see,
are connected at the heart
we have been from the start.

Our echoed cries ring out
as moral beings shout
this is not a world we wish to exist in
one that subjects a black man to a box he can sit in
because it makes more economical sense
to stick him behind a fence
then fix the problem where it began
at their very own hand.

Yet if he's not in a box that keeps him locked
his fate is a lethal gun shot
from a white man who will never take a mug shot.

I am the string
that tied you around
the man tied to the bottle
your love was not full throttle;
the bottle can't love you back
can't pay you back
things were always out of whack.

But in your heart there was a fire
a deep burning desire
to love someone who wouldn't be like that
who would always love you back
so the stars gave parts of themselves
to meld me for you
but a child (or two)
won't undo
can't fix
or release
how how your heart has been breached.

Your life isn't the beach you envisioned.
No, it must be more like a prison
to live your life for somebody else
never actualizing your "self"
I can't imagine how that felt
Here's your accomplishment under the belt:
two children lost in the sea of themselves
because you never found your well
deep inside of you
made up of the river of your soul
whose waters whisper that your happiness is the only goal
doing what you love and loving who you are:
that is your role.

You dug, but never got that far
and you never set the bar
to be who you are -
had to learn that on my own.
I am Ryan,
locally grown
home grown
self grown.
I am my own
yet forever a loan
you cash out for happiness
with the best of intentions
the love we share is no invention
but I just need to mention
you're a divine woman for surviving
but getting by isn't thriving.

You've made it this far
and you are who you are
stand in the center of that
and swat
every thought
that doesn't contribute
to a room with a view
in the center of you.
You will find in your mind
you can make all your dreams come true
you just have to follow through
yes, it's true,
your happiness depends on you
and what you choose to do.

a smile
is a chemical reaction
not something you can fashion
into a trend
with curves you can bend
into something you can define
as if we all live on the same line

the same axis of existence
where you listlessly persist
to always be the demon
robbing our lives of meaning
to keep us from seething
and screaming and fighting
the idea that we should take this lightly

this numbing score
written in front of us on the floor
determining who we will be
and where we will go
but just so you know
we're not sitting out
of this round
without making a sound:
hear our collective *******
while we spew
truth and fact
to combat
the mold you've manufactured
to keep my smile in fashion

guess what?
it's mine
and it's everlasting
so long as I'm following my passion

i guess it's "hippie" to give a ****
and stop taking hits from the oppressors joint
getting high on lies

you don't own us:
that's the ******* point.

Resigned to
divine times
the subliminally sublime
in the deep corners of the mind
that's where I find

I've lost myself.
Always somewhere else
not ready to put that feeling on a shelf.

For some reason
the seasons changed
inside my brain
and everywhere I looked
I saw pain.

I'm just too afraid
of being mundane
in this great cosmic existence
that I've built a resistance

to living life open
like a great beautiful ocean.

I feel my feet on the ground
but it's my heart I haven't found
perpetually getting lost in my ego
instead of just letting it go.
A deep connection I feel
to all that is real
rooting me into being
the very notion is freeing.

Free to me is the best way to be
but my heart you see, is an absentee
leaving through the side door
searching for something to stand for
forgetting all along
there is only one place it belongs
here.
now.

I wonder if it's out of whack
to ask
if those designer shades
are just a mask
or a salute to sunny days
though they'll always be stuck in a cage
of their absence of rage
at the state of this place.
What Ray-Ban filter are they looking through
to prevent them from seeing what's true?

Why wear sunglasses
as a member of the masses
still stuck in the dark
thinking money is their mark?

Sharks attack their prey
but at least they foot the bill
of the chain of events when they ****
instead of swallowing a pill
The Rabbit never warned them
about the candies in the bowl:
"This one makes you forget"
you're living a life of regrets.

Open your eyes
it's the first step.

what is a moment
but a blink of an eye?
yes you are here,
but are you really alive?

you physically exist
mentality persists
but tell me,
what is it you resist?

is it the collapsing of your being
into all that is freeing?

is it letting go of the notion
that the only thing worthy of your devotion
is a love sick potion
perpetually pushing you in forward motion?

what if you took a second to breathe?

came to understand the landscape of who you are
without setting the bar?

the only thing worth raising
is the cultivation of a life worth praising

a garden worth growing
ideas worth knowing

relationships worthy of your love
compassion for yourself that fits like a glove

faith that the universe is working for you

look at your valleys, hills, canyons, and peaks
shhh don't speak
just ask yourself from where you stand
"do i like the view?"

temple treasure
bliss
imagine
some burst sang
open
only
wander
translucent beautiful
free
void who possess
I transcend
jumping
humbly
float
naked
discover
soft limbo
be there
beautiful garden

Like a pack running from a predator
we all dispersed
without ample time to say goodbyes
confess to one another
which beautiful moments
that we treasure most

Like a pack running from a predator
we knew the drill
it's inevitable that we all must leave
but that still does not set us at ease
our hearts pulling in new directions

Departures are always much
trickier than arrivals

Time slips by quicker
as the ground we walk upon ripples

And what was once familiar to us
feels like Déjà vu
we think we've been here before
but then again, we're not really sure

See, we're walking with new feet
down an unchanged street
coming across people
who want us to chop up our time
place our experience on a line
that can be measured

We all know that's not the real treasure
but we indulge them
for their own pleasure
they just don't know any better

But we do
we know that travel can't be plotted on a graph
it's effect on you is not linear, like math

And the people who we meet
enter our lives out of pure chance
our hearts collide and the fates dance

In the depths of my soul
I know it's true
that however brief
I was meant to meet
each and every one of you

I fell in love everyday with
people
places
moments
conversations

All of which will serve as
my central station
while I attempt the navigation
of re-assimilation.

i wished about you
on a shooting star tonight

not about you really
i guess it was more about me

more about finding a way
to see through the cloud
of my feelings

more about trying to wrestle
my innermost demons
reconcile them with reason

more about wishing
that whatever the outcome

of you & me
i'll find a way to stay
happy and free

melting
butter into pancakes
and me
human into existence

**** carpet of experience
wraps itself around
pulls tight
it's funny how I feel
most secure when
i'm sure of being unsure

it happens especially when
sitting by the shore
there is no distinction
i am as much the sea
as a tree
when i'm leaning
up against it

it's funny how hard it is
to decipher what
people mean
when they talk
but a quick ocean breeze
or rustle in the leaves
of the trees
tells me all that i
will ever need
reminding me to melt
into moments
presented to me

There are days that the way
the sun shines through the trees
brings me to my knees.

There are days that force me to pray
when the world tilts on its axis
and my being is consumed by blackness.

There are days when life aligns
there are days when life feels like a lie.

There are days that leave bruises
on my heart and on my skin.

There are says when those same bruises
will be kissed until I'm well again.

Life is full of contradicting forces
the world personifies its beauty all around
but evil still lurks, often without making a sound
but when it hums it roars
and when it rains it pours.

Don't tune it out or seek shelter elsewhere
because at the end of the day
the sun still sets through the trees
and it will always bring me to my knees
and when the world is nothing but blackness
I know the sun will rise tomorrow nevertheless.

I am shackled to a chain
of which I am just another link.
It doesn't matter if I sink:
the definition of inhumane.

The chain is not for me
if it were up to me baby, I'd be free.

It keeps us connected
to a world that's neglected
the real wound that's infected
keeping us injected
with an attitude of being unaffected
until a human life is rejected
of being respected.

A lot of people died for no reason
today, Friday the 13th...
I don't know how to rationalize
these kinds of crimes
against being human and respecting life
because no amount of strife
no payout
no political scandal
no extreme statement
should make the heart vacant
unable to handle
any fuel but the fire of hate
for all who "do not relate"

but the longer you seethe it
the more you breathe it
and sooner or later you'll be it

hate hates you
just as much as you hate them
doesn't care that it's leading you to your end
the demise of your abysmal skies
and tonight the world cries

but it's sickening
how we're unsurprised
unphased by the quicksand thickening
a noose
slowly squeezing our humanity out
we're in a drought

we need a revolution
and love is the solution
and people have been screaming that
since the beginning of time
and now it's imperative we listen
because nights like this just aren't fun
they're heavy for everyone
because we are one
and tonight, once again
we've only brought each other pain

*why the **** did we ever invent the gun?

We are wasting away
every day that goes by
but
every day that goes by
how much time do we waste?

We mustn't make haste
travel at our own pace
claim your place
grow to know your own face.

This is our fate:
we are wasting away
one day at a time
we choose whether or not it's sublime.

days like these
take a toll
on my soul
i think that i always
have to know
which way to go
or what decision is right
or when it's worth the fight
or how to stop saying "i might"
anxiety is a debilitating plight

it won't let me stay
in this moment to play
present tense
washes worries away

lets me revel in being
free of attachments
love lights me on fire
i don't need any matches
it rekindles my desire
to let life take me higher
than my perceptions presumed

its an act of rebellion
not to consume predictions of doom
in an effort to fill the room
with white people screaming
"we matter too"

yeah no **** we matter:
we created a system
that broke people open
buried their stories
places no one would go in
told them to stop hoping
for a world that is different
than the one where they're choking
on words they've been missing

like
your presence is
valued
powerful
worthy of
dignity

words like
we're responsible
for your
economic suffering
and social strife
and we acknowledge
that's no way
to live a life

days like these
take a toll
on my soul
and i accept
i won't always know why
this world doesn't make
white people cry
at how they've made things go awry
across all of time

but i believe in the divine
and that will always be mine
even when the sun
doesn't shine

i'm trying not to feel
stupid
duped
used

i have a history
of being subjected to
those roles

in romantic endeavors
that always result in
me losing trust in

myself
not other people
but i hope

that i'm wrong
about you
and that i'm simply

projecting past
experience onto
present tense

but something has
changed in our
interactions

glazed over eyes
mind on fire
burning down the towers
of idealized lies
you built your life on

fingers rapping incessantly
echoing the truth
that came knocking
until you let it in

foot perpetually bounces
on the edge of the chair
much like you,
teetering between
existing and living

heart pumps erratically
swirling, whirling
wishing it were somewhere else
other than here

eyes close
mind settles
fingers slow
foot calms
heart pumps steadily
when you go out and live

merely existing
is much more taxing
than living
and being
and taking some action

pen in my hand
i have something to say
and no i will not go away

like morphine writing soothes pain
reminds me i have so much to gain

the world is burning down
ignorance the flame
hate the accelerant

passivity the water
you don't throw

bewilderment the catalyst
that pushes you to flight instead of fight

the world is burning down
institutions we once believed in
are preventing people from breathing

the world is burning down
schools are teaching our children
to be xenophobic civilians

the world is burning down
a system we once thought had merit
is so broken we don't know how to repair it

the rug of democracy
pulled right out from under us

using your voice
is your one opportunity to make a choice
but they silenced us with all this noise

sign on the dotted line
with both hands tied behind my back

establishment didn't want a revolution
they came up with a solution

one candidate a fear mongering *****
one the robin hood we've been waiting for
one in a position they bought and paid for

the world is buring down
they locked robin hood out of
the water supply

now we've got two choices
suffocate in the blatant flames of hate
or smolder slowly at the hands of powers that cannot relate

drinking but never getting drunk
eating but never filling up

at some point i got stuck
in a stupid little rut
that wiped me clean of all my guts

no guts, no *****, no intuition
there were too many cooks in the kitchen
confused about which voice was meant to be listened

but sooner or later they'll quit their *******
turn the lights back on
and soon i'll be singing the song

we all do
when we know in our hearts the way we're living is true

I swear, we said
this is the most beautiful fall
of them all

that death
has never caught our breath
never made us say
why can't we all live this way?

How beautiful, we noticed
it is not to resist
being missed

to feel with the seasons
without questioning reason
and let time color the leaves
to dance in the breeze

How humbled, we felt
watching them fall to the street
knowing it would not be the last time we meet.

Sprawled in the grass
how do you make this feeling last?

I can't separate myself
from anything else.

What is the concept of time
when every moment is prime?

Just shut off your ego and open your eyes
and what you find may come as a surprise.

Trust in change
in the idea that life is just a range
of experiences that shape us
and chisel our minds
it's up to us
to keep from going blind
trying to label moments
as if our lives are
a story laid out in front of us
and we can see how
we've come to be
but that simply is no way to be free;
willing to be
broken open
burst open
cracked slightly
learning to handle things more lightly
and take the current
where it flows
because you never know
from where beautiful things grow.

do you ever get
so mad
at something so
seemingly trivial
you begin to ask
yourself, what is it
that you're actually
fuming about?

there has to be
some explanation
as to why you went
from water that's
room temperature
to the steam blowing
out of a tea kettle,
right?

Sitting in the presence of grandeur
and I realize I'm always much
more comfortable outside these
places than in them

I imagine the childhood
memories made here
not clouded by ornate
gold ceilings
or silver that's
meant to be polished
but instead
spent running through
the maze of
outdoor
man-made
paradise

Much like the Secret Garden
this must have been their
fortress from this
where they made blissful
hidden memories
a treasure chest of
"remember when"

The only key that can unlock it
is letting go

Become that elated child again
running through the maze of
your life
that the universe created
without listening
for the dinner bell

i'm trying to
clear my throat
so that i can
hear myself
when i speak
but my voice
it's getting weak
because the wires
connecting my
heart to brain
have been breached
confused now
about what it is
that i seek
reaching to find
a cause but
i can't find
any leaks
i'm just trying
to remember how
to stand upright
without feeling
completely deflated
bring me back
to elated
a place far
beyond jaded
it's easier to
see there how
everything is related
no clues to fill in
no puzzles to solve
when i find
my way to
the center of
myself
i'll find my
resolve

what do you call
the silence on the other end
of a phone call
or the space in between
where i am &
where i want to be?

things that take effort.
patience & persistence.
forgiveness & forward-motion.

no one breaks barriers
from making realizations
it all stems from creation
& that
is a pivotal realization.