I woke up this morning in
an America I did not recognize
So many years of just drifting,
certain of her elasticity
her ability to shake off
the parasites and naysayers
Now I see a buffoon where
lesser buffoons have capered
Why do I imagine that under
that bleached wave, are the
numbers 666?
Wake up all you who have
slept beside me, drifting
in the false safety that is not
We must dust off our shoes
and march again, doggedly
and without reservation.
We must demand justice and change...
peacefully and forcefully.
For this nation is one person
who stands up and says - "Enough!"
My wheelchair and your legs
must gather others and refuse
to be silent - evermore.

I love falling back
Into the leaves
And hearing the crunch
from beneath our feet
When we were together.
You always had the world
By the grasp
And nurture of your
kind hands.

But how is it
Back where you be?
I hope you don't miss me
as much as I do
But it will be a long time
Till I see you.

But I can visit and play
With the ground near you,
You're just a level away.
But I wish you weren't.

I forget how much I'm a fool sometimes
when I'm struck by something beautiful
a thousand locks of tangled brown hair
or the sights outside a blustery window
I have to catch myself falling in mid-air
slow my mind and attach to my thoughts
the rules I am supposed to initially apply
when made a fool by something beautiful.

I want to write something.
I want to feel the words dripping from my fingers
like they are a faucet of poetry.
I want to feel all the similes and metaphors
run through my veins.
I want to write something.

There is something I wish to write about
Too much of everything that I feel
The something that slipped away
Entangled in the shackles of everything

Constant - On the go
Wish I could take it slow
Busy - Is Happy I know

Hours , they are limited
Jobs too many
Mastering one , never ever intend

But ,
There is something that I wish to write
About , Everything
Yet ,
Nothing is what I Write

Imperfection is the place where I truly belong
Happily ,
Until the end
I shall  sing this song

he introduces himself
saying quiet, but slipping in, firm:

“something he knows for sure,
no is no”

I, (19, f)

replying, smiling
saying louder, firmer:

“something she knows for sure,
yes is yes”

and he says

“yes, ma’am,”

returning her smile, so shyly,
while blushing, so loudly,
thinking he said something dumb,
looking down at his shuffling feet,
covered in worn out cowboy boots

I like this guy
I like this man.