Time just gets away from us.

worry not on
reaching your destination
you will not be satisfied
when you arrive there
a new destination is
always on the horizon
be happy with the journey
that is all there is

seek what makes you hungry
if you are not compelled
to act with obsessive vigor
if your curiosity does not
taunt you with madness
then keep on searching
for that elusive hunger
it is what rips open our chest
so our soul may shine

shaken I take stock
parrots shrieking loud

sunny days drift by
mock assail my space

flowers bloom but brief
blink and they're replaced

trees take fifty years
decimated swift

people killed, displaced
earth protests in pain

stop, opt out, you're lost
left with platitudes

can I drift removed
isolation seek

then again I see
I sound like them now

if I sulk and pout
fail to see my path

rise above and live
carve a vibrant self

ripples echoing
circle all this globe

passage clipped and purged
take a mountain pass  

rein in darkening clouds
grasp some grit this day

Wall after wall after wall.
It’s time to take a break.
Thickness, concrete, cement.
I’ve been closed for so long.
Shadows, darkness, hiding.
I don’t even remember what the sun feels like.
Safety, enclosed, tightly.
I miss the sun. I miss the air.
Cracked, chipped, scraped.
I think it’s time for a change.
Snap, crack, pop.
Maybe if I just try it.
Crumble, rubble, dust.
Reach a bit more, open it wide.
Blinding, bright, warmth.
I feel it.
Grow, glisten, breathe.
I am myself again.
Open, open, open.
It’s so good to be back.

A sidewalk canvas
Half done slush
An oil slick
Twice frozen ice
And boots that slip
A train just missed
The red eyes glare
Rain that floats
In sour air
Brutalized concrete
Bleeding rust
Filthy floors
And alley walls
Spent cigarettes
In every nook
Steel that shrieks
In cold protest
Blue lights
And a defiant poet
On every corner

bright red bubbles pop from underneath my feet
red as cherry trees that won't grow
can this be blood?
dirt from in between my toenails
i wash off Mother Nature's skin  
a leaking coming from my eyes
that washes away dissatisfaction
can these be tears?
the sound of feet against the ground
solid and unloving
i slip
face down into the ground
can this be where life comes from?
an old lady plants flowers in her garden
can this be inspiration?
i am losing my train of thought
can this brain be me?