your ears are jammed with
energetic beats and good melodies
though accompanied with
lyrical lies that
distort
our views on what really matters and
define
who we are and how we should be.

and your eyes:
glued to the screen
as you await to see
if your face
is worth enough of those
tiny blue thumbs up.

but
you've absorbed
too much nonsense and radiation
from those handheld contraptions that
you have grown
too deaf and too blind
to see anything beyond yourself

but I say that it is time that you
look up,
open your eyes,
and see
His holy
glory setting upon
our minds waking
our hearts stirring
our passion blazing
our generation rising
our people fighting
our nation triumphing

look up,
open your eyes,
and see that
hope is alive and abundant!
because Hope is with us,
Hope is in us, and
Hope is through us.

all these chaos is translating
into something beautiful and exciting
so come
look up,
open your eyes,
and see.

Maybe it was the
Fated curl of a clouds lips
That blew wind
At the precise moment
On the ragged sail
And pushed this vessel
To the raging seas,
Towards stormy nights,
And took me
Exactly
Where I needed to go.

Despite the odds,
This broken boat,
Cracks and crevasses,
Made it's way to You.

Don't  tell me you care because you don't.

When was the last time you cared about another more than yourself?

Don't tell me you care because you don't.

When was the last time you went out of your way to help a stranger in need?

Don't tell me you care because you don't.

When was the last time you gave random acts of kindness to the people around you?

Don't tell me you care because you don't

When was the last time you gave your friend or family a hug, and told them you love them?

When was the last time you gave generously to someone even though they didn't desrve it?

Don't tell me you care because you don't.

Don't tell me you care just show it.

Words are just words until they are done.

ask your blood
your limbs, your breathing feet
what Poetry is -
a phylogenetic anomaly
in light’s discontinuity

or just…
the strange yearning of hematopoiesis

ask the silence in your lungs
the bursting DNA, reinterpreted
how it allures memory inside your bones
how it treads conventions of sleep
with the weight of a sigh

if you ask me
what Poetry is
I’d say: breath calligraphy
a winged dream of depth
on enchanted retina
the bitter-sweet art of airy harmony

ask your hands
what Poetry is
perhaps they’ll take a moment
to bloom