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Colm Dec 2016
Build me like the city streets
Strap my bones to solemn steel
And give me an expression without inability

Prop me up like the towering buildings
And bend my back to the labors of industry
So that I might just understand
What it means to hear the steel heart beat

Let these words go out from here and heal
Let these voices reach and touch the meek
Let the rhythm within my soul preserve
And the minds amongst us finally meet

So that we could savor a moments peace
So that we could pad the snow laden ground
And meet where the steel heart slowly beats

For we are the blood within which seeps
As we rise to the surface quietly
Teeming with life and full of desire
To actively ponder and passionately seek

To understand the truth within
For we are a vessel most unique
To reach the travelers of time
And to mold such minds as they do sleep

For anytime such blood cells meet
The steel heart surely can be heard
In unison with every beat

Be it underneath these city streets
Let such an expression be heard by more than me
Written for my friends in the city Pittsburgh
Ron Sparks May 2016
You've been here before.  You woke up today and realized that the stress, the angst, and the foreboding that you've allowed to rule your life is there by choice.  You've gotten lost in the spiral of anxiety, again.

If it's not your health, it's your money.  If it's not the money, it's your kids.  If it's not your kids, you're worried about past life choices and how they will affect you tomorrow.  Your fears line up at the door, wrap around the block, and await their turn.  Your door is open to them all and you don't deny them.  You let them in.  

Once they are inside, you wrap your fears around you.  They’re a welcome smothering; a wearying security blanket of trembling phobia.  They are as familiar to you as they are distressing.  These constant, restless, companions are more comfortable than the unknown.  

Today, though, you stare at the line of fears and realize that something is missing.  Happiness.  Contentment.  Acceptance.  These are conspicuous in their absence.  And you remember an old Cherokee tale.  You have two wolves engaged in eternal battle inside you; one is fear and anxiety and the other is peace and serenity.  The strongest is the one you feed and you've been feeding the wrong wolf.  

You've done this your entire life in a self-centered, selfish, guilt-ridden, indulgent, fashion.  You wallow in the darkness because you're afraid you don't deserve the light.

You know you’ll feed the right wolf today.  But can you do it tomorrow?  

  mighty river;
the fish navigates
​as it will
Haibun is a prosimetric literary form originating in Japan, combining prose and haiku. The range of haibun is broad and frequently includes autobiography, diary, essay, prose poem, short story and travel journal.
Ron Sparks May 2016
red cardinal
alights nearby -
  notices me
Ron Sparks May 2016
full flower moon
in its halo
a space station
The Full Flower Moon is the full moon seen in the month of May.
Ron Sparks Apr 2016
on this cloudless night
pushing through the Pittsburgh haze,
daring to present themselves,
entwined in cosmic tango, are
Jupiter and the Moon.
the bands play across a
diluted Jovian face. while the storm
    rages on
the lunar rocks and craters,
perfectly visible imperfections,
cast petulant shadows -
reminding me that
from destruction one can
   still find beauty.
Ron Sparks Apr 2016
steamy
beads of sweat
between her dusky *******
little rivers of pleasure
that collect in her navel
and threaten to spill with
each exhalation
distract me long enough
to avoid the
     little death
that look in her eye
seen only when
riding me
or on the back of
my motorcycle
    reignites my
passion and
all too soon
    I die
Ron Sparks Jan 2016
I'm a throwback, baby
     atavistic and masochistic
I'll pay for dinner and
  I'll hold the door
you can complain and
     vilify this good guy
but I can take it.  Your
feminism does not and can not
     impel or compel
me to forgo my manners because
    you
        can't
           tell me how I should
                expect to respect
          you
Ron Sparks Jan 2016
when I met you
I was broken not desperate
you didn't save me
I didn't rescue you
I didn't beg and you
                    didn't bow
my heart and my soul
covered in scars -
some still angry and red -
didn't repel you
and yours, tattered and
covered with wounds
          long healed -
imperfections that made you
          wondrous to behold
we met as equals and so
fell equally in love
and this, my bride, is why
we will
         endure
Ron Sparks Jan 2016
I command it all
with imperious verbal commands
automation through the ether
my lights come on
the television, voice activated
spoken queries answered by the
computer in my home
    - sports scores
    - weather
    - news
    - reminders
vibration of my vocal chords
compels my thermostat
orders my groceries
and plays my music
I am the master of my domain
and yet now, more than ever,
I control
    nothing
Ron Sparks Dec 2015
Red cardinal
rooting for seeds to eat
  avoids yellow snow
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