Never meant to be a symbol.
There are others who came before.
They carried the cross long before me.
I walk their path with head held high;
A journey emblematic of the times.

Getting here took some time.
Determination of Napoleon…
The grit of John Wayne…
The courage of the Cowardly Lion…
All emblematic of what was required.

Now, I am free.
Life is different now.
I am surrounded by those who matter.
Their love consumes like the ocean.
I am planning on drinking it in.
What happens next is meant for me.

this blanket is new
completely different lies one it
from a huge bear of
medvedy which I caught a long time
long ago this blanket is new

this blanket is new it lies
I will save and protect it
my safety lies and pride
and honor and great inspiration
this blanket is new

this blanket is new
it was a knight it yes when
it was both fish and sea and stars
it was everything and especially bear
yes this blanket my new lies so there is

24.10.18

my son shall be a reflection of me with the mirror being his mother. he will have my eyes and his mothers heart, my brains but his mothers demeanor. we all know he’ll need it. the courage will come from us both because your mother is a warrior as am i. we fight. never let them see you down son, if you fall remember: gravity centers lowest to the ground, you shall gather yourself up and stand strong. and when the waves come crashing because they will, when they crash just know that you are a warrior. there is no mountain big enough in comparison to your potential, no storm loud enough to quite your spirit and no accolade too great to make you gloat. my son, you were made under the shield of love, so you shall forever be protected. never let anyone tell you otherwise. when you see a man down keep your arms outstretched, warriors can fight for the less fortunate too, but stand proudly in your body. and when they ask why you are who you are you simply respond: I am a reflection of my father in the mirror of my mother.

she waits at the door
for him to come home.
it has been so long.
and yet
she keeps her post.

if she leaves for a second she might miss the flash of a uniform, a crooked grin, a letter home.
baby teeth knocked out like gravestones after a storm.

like the gravestone the telegram in her hand may imply.
she has not opened it.
she has not-
can not-
will not-
open it.

the telegram sits
and she sits
and the clock sits
(mockingly)

and her son sits.
the closest to his homeland he will ever get is
the flag blanketed over him.

and still

she waits at the door.

There's a huge bean bag in the corner
the color of rusted tree
and a white painted outline to hold two drawers
of colorful condoms next to the Keurig Machine.
Three circular winded fanciful lights strung above,
shedding semicircular splotches on the walls.
Looking out on the Brooklyn Bridge in the 1893
painted on in black and grey haunts.
There's a magnetic pillar to the left of the too-deep chairs
that at least are comfortable,
but no one has legs that long.
A magazine rack to the right lends a variety of color, from
Love Match to Lavender, it's a mismatch island.
Smells like plastic and a cold air, with a hint of college sweat.
And there's the squeaky roller chair full of business textbooks and drawings of pigeons and bitten fingernails and arms that lead to the edges of the paper.
Masked with worn All Star sketchers and three clocks ticking,
Long labored skies and horcruxes gathered round the edges.
Yet somehow with all the oddities combined,
it's safe and sound under the flag including.

“Never forget”
It’s structure set
there’s something that
I just don’t get
When people told
to take a sec
The thousands lost
Their lives just swept

And many more
forever wept
An empty hole
with families wrecked
Commemorate
the date is set
As if a giant hurdle leapt

Most people easily forget
A numb that lulls
themselves will let
They patronize
like I’m a pet
Their pettiness
to me will vex

It’s takes more than
just bowing necks
A promise
for one day is kept
Real charity
Not on the net
Read Facebook posts like
“What the heck?”

My boiling blood
want to snap necks
A danger sign
like floor is wet
Not military
or a vet
But a salute
those lost will get

Just for one day
forget the rest
On this day we will act our best
Let bias and all hatred rest
Each other love
Hearts will be blessed