An inconvenient truth
Can spawn a most convenient lie.
But far too often it seems
The truth will crawl off and die
While the lie lives on
To expand and grow new legs
And covers up the facts
That the fiction sadly begs.

It's a horrible fact today
That people look for excuses
To stay the fools they are
And find more convenient uses
For stories they either made up
Or have come to believe;
Mythological legends
That education can't seem to relieve.

A casual glance through history
Is all we really would ever need
To put the lie to death, but
This kind of fool does not read.
The saddest thing to see is
A bigot has no use for truth
When it makes them give up lies
They have depended on since youth.

But the basic thing in this
Is that someone spoiled this person
And made them into something
A step or two below a decent human
Because every religion has
Words just like the old golden rule.
You wouldn't think that
They could be made into an evil tool.

Why aren't you ashamed
Of yourself, your friends
Of anyone around you
That chooses to pretend
That some people are
Somehow lesser beings?
How can you all sleep
With that kind of feeling?

Did somebody close to you
Get inside of your mind
And coach you every day
To be deaf mute and blind
To the beauty of people
And all the good they do
If they were created
A bit different than you?

Did some crazy crook
On some show on teevee
Tell you it will be fine
If you hate them and me
Because we demand
The right to just be?
Who has mistrained you
To despise equality?

If the people around you
Hear such talk and approve
Why did you not decide
To get up and move?
Instead you have chosen
To point fingers and blame
People who are innocent
Why aren't you ashamed?

I was visited again by Death.
Not the hooded creature, but a shadow of my own cadence
        slid across the cortex of my mind
                the place
        where the rational man falls to the unceasing siege of the animal,
        where every edge of every plane of time thrusts itself and
                interrupts our daydreams to inter seeds
                of fear
                of frustration
                of hope
                of anger
                of things gone
                of things we wish
                of things we want
                of
                        things we dare never speak aloud.

It (I) brought to me (myself) no vision of my own demise,
        no recycled image from film or phone or fable.  It brought worse:

My own house.
My own floor.
My own back
        hunched.
My own legs
        crossed.
My own head
        bowed.
My own shoulders
        heaving.
My own arms
        flaccid.
My own lap
        heavy.
My own son
        Limp.

        Brown curls on a blue forehead in a peaceful, lifeless rest.
        A pietà.

        ---

I fade away as I appeared, and revive. A searing kiss on both eyes.

        Brown curls on a pink forehead in a peaceful, mid-meal grin.
        A Cheerio.

        ---

Wake up!
Wake up! Arise! Look out!
        and See
        and Be
        and Grasp
        the Goodness of All around You.

I can't stop you falling
When you're not in my arms;
I don't hear you crying
When you're in foreign lands.
I can't hear you calling
To me from afar,
And I can't spread a balm
To cure cuts and your scars.
Your plight's universal,
But personal to me,
Your growing pains hurt
When you learn to be free.
But,
If I could just hold you,
Behold and enfold you,
The first thing I'd do
Is probably scold you.

You can't clasp onto my hand
While applauding my achievements.
Let me go.

I am the rejected child
The neglected son or daughter
That did not live up
To the standard that we ought to
Because we are not
A carbon copy of our parents,
And what we are in life
Is so very honestly apparent
That they can no longer lie
To their friends and neighbors.
We are symbols of rebuke
Of all of their dishonest labors
To make living our lives
All about how they want to look
And how upset they are
That we didn't play by the book.

Some of it is because
The religion they never really studied
Got all tangled up with ego
And the truth became too muddied
For them to pick apart the facts
From fears created for financial gain
Based on ancient stories
That disregard the hurt of others, the pain.
But, their child is one of them
Those others they choose to proudly hate.
But, if they examine themselves
They can change, it is never too late.
If they ask themselves “If God made us
Didn't he make me as well as you?
Surely this moral infanticide
Is not what he wanted you to do.”

Our son is turning 7 and they have been the best 7 years of my life.
I am so lucky to have the both of you in my life and I wouldnt want it any other way.
Thank you for being so strong and connected. You are always there when he needs you.

Age 1, learned how to walk
Age 2, learned how to talk
Age 3, learned how to create
Age 4, learned how to make a mistake
Age 5, learned who is a best friend
Age 6, learned how to let go
Age 7, learns how to follows his heart..

Co-parenting is never easy when the parents involved are not on the same page of understanding as the other.
Luckily on our sons end he has the best of both worlds. We have compassion, understanding, love, and forgiveness.
We can be a team without being together and that is all I could ever ask for our son to see.

This is my moment to thank you for being an amazing father to him.
I am entirely grateful he has you in his life to love him, to care for him, to be there with him.  
I want you to teach him how to follow his dreams, how to open his heart and to show him how to love unconditionally.  
To show him that even though things may not go as planned, there is always a positive in a negative situation.  
You have made an impact on our lives and we love you so much.
You mean a lot to our hearts.

Thank you for being compassionate.
Thank you for being understanding.
Thank you for being strong.
Thank you for being everything to him.

Cheers to the next 11 years

I found seashells and driftwood,
Cans and bottles and much more
Like diapers and picnic stuff
While walking along the shore.
I found cigarette butts and bags
And those horrendous soda holders
That catch on sea life and twist them
In their middle or at their shoulder.

I saw palm trees and jacaranda
Waving in the balmy breeze
And broken plastic lawn chairs
Leaning against the lovely trees.
I found six-packer carriers sitting
With all the beer bottles inside.
I saw pieces of bicycles and big batteries
And I swear I almost sat and cried.

But I had too much to do right then
Gathering up all that random junk.
I carried them to a ******* bin
And I threw it all in, kerthunk!
I wondered for the hundredth time
The parents these creeps had
That let them grow so ill behaved,
And so embarrassingly bad.

What kind of selfish brat can come
And look out on this lovely scene
And throw their ******* all around?
How can they be so mean?
It makes me hope for recompense;
That what goes around come again
And we can stash these human pigs
Into an appropriate kind of pen.

Are you still beating your babies?
Are you still punching your kid?
Are you still calling it discipline;
Not the worst thing you ever did?
Is it always a case of deserving
The punishment you mete out?
Where you teach them what is what;
Call them disgusting names and shout?

Break out the heavy leather belt
Go cut me a big switch
You kids are ******* me off
You’re giving me a big itch.
Bend yourself over here
Don’t run and make me catch you.
Remember this is all your fault.
You’re making me do this to you.

When you get in the mood to punish
Do dress in a special costume?
Does it have to take place in a woodshed
Or in some special kind of room?
Do you double up your fist and hit
Or do you have special equipment?
Does the physical treatment you hand out
Contribute to your fulfillment?

Break out the heavy leather belt
Go cut me a big switch
You kids are ******* me off
You’re giving me a big itch.
Bend yourself over here
Don't run and make me catch you.
Remember this is all your fault.
You’re making me do this to you.

In a world of deserving irony
You’d have to wear a disguise
So neighbors would know about you
And authorities could be made wise.
Then someone could call in specialists
To give some of what you give
And teach you eye-for-an-eye truth
About the way you live.

Break out the heavy leather belt
Go cut me a big switch
You kids are ******* me off
You’re giving me a big itch.
Bend yourself over here
Don't run and make me catch you.
Remember this is all your fault.
You’re making me do this to you.

I am scared.
Of everything.
I am scared that the people that have been there for me in the past will not be there for me when I need them most.
I am scared that maybe I won't graduate.
That I won't go to college.
I'm scared that I might actually go to college but then I won't know what to do.
I'm scared that I am not aiming for the right degree.
I'm scared that I will get the right degree and get my dream job but then I won't like it.
I'm scared that I am too focused on my future that I will look back on my past and realize that I didn't do anything with it.
I'm scared that I am wasting my time trying to become something for the possibly that I might become nothing.
I am scared to move.
I am scared to get out of this town and get lost in a big city with no one to run to.
I am scared to stay here and this be the only place I will ever know.
I am scared of my genetics.
I am scared to have kids and have them suffer because they will have some hereditary disease that I can't watch them live through.
I am scared that I will never become a mother because of my fear of being a failure.
I am scared that these fears mean nothing but I am obsessing over them anyways.
I am scared of having a reason to be scared...
And that scares me.