Touch your imagination.
Expand your power of creation.
Millions of souls reactant to your work.
Millions of people grabbing on to their worth.
You're a diamond covered in dirt.
Find something great far in the outskirt.
Brace yourself for the truth will hurt.

It was a year and eleven days before my birthday
When the event occurred

The date was 9/11
And people all over called it.

Twin buildings fell
In New York, it was sad
Everyone watched and everyone mourned

The second shot heard around the world
A whole planet cried
For the ones that it lost

School was off
Jobs were too
But the firefighters worked
As well as the policemen

On the day 9/11 in 2001
The whole world cried
People sang for those who died
We'll never forget the dreadful day
The day the Twin Towers went away.
People were saved
And lived to tell the tale
And those who retell it today
Know it all too well

The Twin Towers crashed
And the Twin Towers burned
And everyone saw
And everyone learned
We'll never get over
The day in September
All we do is remember
Remember.

Scratch out a little something
a honed blade
a sharpened pencil
paint thinner creates a subdued hue
hands ache
and fingers bleed
What once was nothing,
exists
Now, you are lighter
a surface scratched
You
have left pieces of yourself
exposed

A sculpture
A canvas
Raw Nerves
A poem

♦   ♦   ♦

She was an earnest devotée.
Her ideals, birthed in Chardonnay
were globally diverse (read: white).
A liberal bark preceded bite.
Her crystal clearer than her vision;
she provoked bemused derision
as she breathed intolerance
toward all who would not dance her dance.
She swooned for distant pagan tribes,
attuned to their exotic vibes –
rapt in multi-culti piety
strangely deaf to her own society,
judged by her as abomination;
unredeemed. The background station
always stuck on N.P.R.
(the soundtrack of her culture war,
Pacifica News and Democracy Nows,
and other progressive holy cows)
Her motherland a shameful mystery:
guilty first, and void of history –
its origins defiled, corrupted…
while she enjoyed uninterrupted
freedom to pursue her whims:
misguided one-world global hymns.
The sisterhood of hu(man) kind
was foremost in her earnest mind –
even should that same sisterhood
be sealed by her well-meaning blood.
Out on a date with global death
she hoped to unify the earth
in solidarity with causes
led by killers, warlord bosses,
thugs she never knew existed
who, if she’d met she’d have resisted.
Her theory landed far from her praxis
spun, by default, on an evil axis.
Hot with zeal she fumed and stormed
quite certain she was well-informed,
at benefits, non-profit functions
rallies, boycotts, left-wing luncheons;
warm with righteous spite for Israel,
aiding and abetting Ishmael
with fellow-travelers, like-minded
similarly hateful, blinded,
rattling sabers, scimitars, axes…
(lunacy never wanes, but waxes
hotter with the passing years
as activists confront their fears).
She finally shilled for the Intifada
(stopping short of reciting Shahada),
reaching out to the terrorist
with righteous raised progressive fist…
offering thus her neck to blade:
collateral to be repaid
by murderers who couldn’t care less
about her open-mindedness.

I used to see the world in black and white,
A heart so tender, foolish fright,
My thoughts locked me in, I was afraid to dance,
Until you came, wild dreams and all.

You strut through sidewalks full of pretense and ambition,
Ink stained hands, wondrous eyes, smoke in the night,
I'll never forget your glimmering mind, devilish flare,
A prince who lost himself in city lights.

The pages of who you are were torn and faded,
I saw you pale in the dark, tears flowing from self-hatred,
Then the next second, arrogant and charming, you ran along,
Far from the way I tried to mend you.

I came too close to your flames,
You crept into my side at midnight then disappeared before dawn,
You drowned me with you then fought to bring us back to the surface
And tore me into pieces just as you did to yourself.

But through you, I've learned to see,
I'm illuminated with your visions, I sing your delirious songs,
Your colors poured into the scars on my skin,
But I've also learned how it feels to be alone at night.

I hate to admit I need you, I don't want you to leave anymore.
I circle back, dying to understand who you are,
You're alive in my eyes, the most beautiful but deadly of stars,
Yet the longer I gaze at you, I am blinded by the light.