First Thought
The first thought of the day
What made you feel this way
Can you remember this feeling
As you gaze up at the ceiling
Or is it a wispy fog, fading like a dream
Lost from morning’s subconscious stream
Is it a dream lost or a desire found
That makes this morning’s first sound?
Or often it is as simple as can be
This feeling that it’s time to pee…
Soft Sunrise
The world is sometimes kissed awake in the morning
Warm as a mother’s hug and caress, reminding us of God’s touch
That there will be beauty and peace
The inspiration of thought born of feeling
Or is it the bold thought that came before the feeling
Was the sunrise first, or the sunset
For without one there is not the other
A complete symmetry of time, like a hug
The yin and yang of sunset bold
And sunrise soft completing us
Happy Father’s Day!
One of my personal favorite poems, I wrote last year while in Michigan is reprinted below. This year I’ll miss seeing dad, and my brother and having a drink and cigar and talking about anything and everything. My brother sent the picture here… They look pretty good, don’t they!
All of Us
Dad takes care of Mom
So, Mom can worry and pray for all of us
Dad tells his stories, we’ve all heard before
But they still have a message for all of us
Mom’s eyes roll, as he chuckles at his own jokes
And we chuckle too, because it’s part of all of us
Dad still figures out how to do everything
Creative and valued advice for all of us
Discounts, coupons, everything can be repaired
So too, we save, fix and repair, it’s part of all of us
Dad taught us how to be noble and good
We do our best, as a bit of nobility is now in all of us
So, Mom, no need to worry about all of us
Because there’s a bit of Dad in all of us!
Happy Juneteenth!
If you don’t know what it means… look it up… it is a day of great importance in our journey as a nation.
Fade to Light
Living in darkness
Colorless faces
Fear of dreams
Fear of falling
Tripping on the climb
Whistling at shadows
Never risking desire
Distance thunder
Golden flashes light
Shadowed clouds
Clouds of rain
Better than nothingness
Better than colorless
Daring to wish
Daring to feel worthy
Of dreams of color
Of world alive
That can only be found
In the risk of insight
That sparks the night
And darkness fades
To color and light
Child’s Play
I just came from posting the flag on the front of the house, I saluted it as I should for it is our flag day. Commemorating the act of a continental congress to define a union of colonies, now states that will build a great nation with ideals that all men are created equal and none should be above the law. On June 14, 1777, this congress decided that the equality of these colonies shall be represented in thirteen stripes, and the original thirteen stars on a blue field, a field with room for many more, many that will be welcomed to this land, this nation, and with reverence we’ll abide by the principles put forth by men who risked their lives to sign for independence and fairness and opportunity for the pursuit of happiness… and yet the pursuit of equality under the law continues. Today I read a poem, that asks for forgiveness for our lack of generosity, for our thrashing of this dream of equality as we have practiced in these last so many centuries. We know better now we think, yet read this poem from 1920, and ask if it is no different today than 100 years ago? I had to find out what Darkwater was, and through the Gutenberg Project https://www.gutenberg.org/files/15210/15210-h/15210-h.htm
I found the book published in 1920. Called Darkwater by W.E.B Du Bois. It is amazing… I included a poem from the end of Darkwater below…
I did not think… I did not know…
What pale excuse is this I make
In answer to my brother’s woe,
Age-long, for deep injustice sake!
Across his mute and patient soul,
While I have gone my heedless way,
The shadows of a fate might roll
That deepened night and darkened day.
But I have read a burning page,
That glowed with white and soul-wrung fire,
And now no more I may engage
My conscience with a feeble hire.
For all the wrong I did not heed,
Chance-born in happier paths to live,
I cry unto my brother’s need
One word of love and shame… forgive!
At the end of Black Water is the following Poem By W.E.B Du Bois:
Hamburger and Fries
They were tasty last night
But hurt my stomach this morn
I slept quite well excepting cramping,
And it seems a thing of late,
Or early this morning
I thought of the gluten of fried potatoes,
And/or the bun, or maybe
The fat in beef of unknowable origin,
But mostly I thought not to do this again
Until I sufficiently forget.
A Blank White Page
I look at the page, blank white
Today it is intimidating
I think of what it means
So often it is inviting, it’s home
As I write whatever I feel
Even if it seems just words, hidden meanings
There’s always something my mind has to say
With only a general idea, a thought to light the way
But there is no docent present today
To help me navigate the blank white
Like a snow storm, stubbornly white
So much happening, history being made
And sorrows and joys, but not on this page
Maybe a metaphor for history that’s too light
Too long a blank page white
It’s history that writes of the present
The resistance against a too long white page
That adds color to the canvas, add ink to this day, this age
And rewrites the history of a blank white page.
Thoughts
They may be yours
They may be mine
They may come
Or they may go
They may be stolen
They might have been inspired
They may be desired
They may be trivial
They may be grand
They may be dark
They may be light
They may be deep
They may be simple
They may be complex
They are often fleeting
And thus forgotten
If so, did they ever exist?
… Now what was I thinking?
We Must Choose
We are born without memories
We are potential
We are not good nor bad
We are an empty jar
Of our own color, size, and shape
To be filled with experience
From the first breath with sounds
And sights, that we cannot comprehend
We are given the gift of love
Of understanding, of free will
And so we begin to choose
What to listen to, what memories
To remember, what to forget
What are the war cries of our tribe
What are the sorrows of our history
What is it that gives us identity
We choose to embrace or to adapt
We choose from the words we hear
What to believe, what not to believe
We choose to be aware or not
We choose to hear the pain and sorrow of others
We choose to not hear the war cries of agitators
We choose to be a force of good
We choose to replace anger with forgiveness
We choose to seek justice not revenge
We choose to vote for those who share the love of justice
We choose to understand that what we have in common is greater than what separates us…
Or we watch the world burn!