When you see a man,
Twisted and worn,
Hold your tongue,
Sheath your scorn,

Those living in dark, grow towards light.

What we’ve come to know
about being human
is to grow in phases
to take pain and grief
from the ends of the bookshelf
and to stir them into the atmosphere

breathing in and out
until the silence between each breath
was a bridge to relief

it was never to solve the puzzle in a day
or to sort through all the pieces in
a strategic manner
but to feel the joy of frustration
the strange joy of trial and error

I. On the Nature of Smiles
A smile is a sneaky, invisible thing,
It creeps from the lips without flutter or wing,
But lo! when it lands on a stranger’s dull day,
It tickles the sorrow and shoos it away.

It travels through coffee shops, crosswalks, and queues,
It softens the sternest of daily-day news.
It has no real price, no receipt, no command,
And yet it could cradle the world in its hand.

II. The Grand and Glorious Hug
Now don’t underestimate (please, if you can)
The power of arms - be ye woman or man,
To wrap someone up like a parcel of peace,
To hush all the mayhem and grant them release.

A hug isn’t just for when sorrow attacks,
It’s also for moments when courage just lacks.
So squeeze with conviction, be warm, be profound,
A hug is a poem that needs not a sound.

III. Words of the Small-but-Mighty Kind
“Oh dear,” said the teacup, “I fear I may chip,”
Till a kind word arrived with a stiff upper lip.
“You're perfect,” it said. “You still hold the tea.”
And the teacup beamed back with revived dignity.

A phrase, just a whisper, can shatter the storm,
Can nudge someone’s heart back to hopeful and warm.
So toss kind words freely like petals or rain,
They land where they land, and they soften the pain.

IV. The Call to Now (and Never to Wait)
Oh yes, you may ponder, you may delay,
But kindness, my dear, was never that way.
It’s not for tomorrow or someday or soon,
It thrives in the morning, the dusk, and the noon.

So don’t be a waiter in life’s busy line,
Be wildly, ridiculously, wonderfully kind.
You never shall know what your ripple will do,
But I promise you this: it starts right with you.

A cold beer sweating on a hot afternoon. I mean, it was hot, man. It wasn’t just hot; it was humid. We walked along the banks of the river that ran through everything, like how you used to run from me in fields of tall grass and flowers. We were so much younger back then. We were in love. I had the capacity to feel, and you had the patience to nurture and keep me surprised, wide-eyed. I slept last night with no dreams, finally, and my stomach only hurt mildly today. I’m calling that progress. Progressing toward what? Maybe happiness and health. Maybe death. I don’t know. I can’t tell you the things I thought back then, but I can tell you who I am now. I’ve changed just a bit, my darling. The old-fashioned words you loved being called—darling, dearest, lover, sweetie—I was your suitor. I’m still here, sweetheart. I’m still waiting. I will court you again, although I may run a little slower, my words may fumble and trail off into intruding thoughts. I may wake up soaked and shivering from dreams that come. I may not be the man I once was in your eyes.

I wonder,
I ponder,
The path I need to take.

I march my way in grassy fields,
To see what I can make.

I trod here,
Trod there,
I trod to find my stake.

For each path hurts its own,
Each path has its wake.

I hike thee,
I climb free,
A mountain I should quake.

The paths are getting harder now,
I tremble and I break.

A wall here,
A crack here?
I must find flaws I forsake.

Each wall built that blocks my path,
Brick by brick I take.

Now a bend,
Sweet end,
The last is not fake.

My journey had gone coming quick,
It is final, my sake.

I'm sorry isn't enough,
But it's all I've got,
As much as that *****.
I care about you so much,
Never do I ever want to see you come to harm,
Or see you fade away.
I want to see us blossom and grow,
Rather than shrivel up and decay,
So if there's something I can do,
Please let me know,
Could we talk it out?

You’ve wandered long through shadowed lands,
With trembling heart and open hands,
The clocks spun slow, the sky turned grey,
Yet still, you rose to meet the day.

A thousand questions marked your pace,
Who am I now? What is this place?
But hush - the wind, it softly knows,
The soul still grows, the spirit flows.

You wore your grief like autumn’s coat,
Then shed it when the spring took note.
The stars watched on with patient eyes,
As you began to reorganize.

Your path, your pace, your whispered dreams,
No longer bound to old regimes.
You dared to laugh, to love, to try,
Beneath a less familiar sky.

And though you walk with aching feet,
The journey’s song is bittersweet.
You are not lost - you’re being led,
By threads of gold the Fates have spread.

So question all! The love, the lore,
The quiet "why," the distant shore.
You’re not alone - just newly found,
Among kind hearts, profound and sound.

Step forward now with trust, with grace,
The future waits to know your face.
For all that’s past is not yet gone,
You’re just becoming who you’ve been all along.

Killing me harshly is the pleasure of a thousand lullabies
And am I the one that pleases thee
Till I am standing not on my feet but on all of my limbs
Little ****** of sensation filter their way into your soul
Yawning at a time like this doesn't bode well for your aspirations
Never mind the things that seep out of your mind.

Fragile glass fingertips grace the pillows of nothing
Racing to feel again and touch something
Any excuses to sensationalize your memories
Negating the reality of past experiences
Clinging to the thought of a paradise
Expunging the ruby tears that rain down from your eyelids
Smothering the lipid-laced treats that linger on the tongue

More than ever shall we dance again
Over the river bending into the graveyard
Rolling down the grassy hills
Across the metamorphosis of a Tiger Lilly
Let me bloom into the unknown
Escape the neglect of myself.
Sooth the soul and let it keep fluttering