Today

We have enough scars

and heartbreaks

crushed families

spilling from the alcohol that

pours from our TVs

Afraid to be

the best of ourselves

because everyone is

making fun of our

humanness

Add a filter

tip your chin

Not sure where you took the picture

but you are the center

The world though has its

own axis

and we are all spinning around the

same pole

So let's drop more bombs

open more prisons

and call people names

from our keyboards

because it doesn’t matter anymore

because it never mattered in the first place

The Internet tells me so…

Writing in the Dark

The sun shines everyday

 the clock ticks one second ahead to the future

There are millions of reasons to smile

  to love

  to be happy

But somehow there is a lens on the view I see

I’m trying to write my story

 but it feels like I am writing in the dark

I feel the pen in my hand,

 the paper on the table.

I understand the words I write

  I feel the curve and flow of

  the letter L

  the wave of an i

  the infinity movement of an f

  and a wider wave of an e

But how do I go back to dot the i?

Are my letters straight on the page,

  spaced accordingly?

Or does the words I write scrunch together

 unable to expand and breathe

 a muddled mess of lines?

I wonder if the path of my  words slant up or down?

A story that looks like

I dropped a box of magnets poetry pieces

  onto the paper

I know that I can smile today, but I’m

 writing in the dark

I have never found the switch to enlighten my room

Or found the window shades

 to pull back the curtains

 to see the beauty of the world

And no one seems to know I’m in here

writing in the dark

To the Old Man Eating Alone on Valentine's Day

You are dressed in a red button down shirt

  a sharp red and black tie

Your comb-over doesn’t cover your bald spot

The waitress helps you with your coat and cane

“Thank you,” you say a little loud

   as if your hearing is bad

The waitress removes the other three place settings

“Would you like something else to drink?” she asks

“No, water is fine.” You smile at her

She takes your order and soon returns with your hot and spicy soup.

I wonder what your story is…

The restaurant is filled with couples and families

It is Valentine’s day

You watch the others around you as you enjoy your soup

Tipping the bowl to get the last drops out

Then I see it

Left hand, reflecting the light

  a solid gold ring

  but you are alone

What is your story?

Has your wife passed away?

Was this her favorite restaurant?

Is this where you first said I love you?

Or maybe presented her with the companion ring to yours?

Is your home filled with framed memories and carpet that needs replaced?

Are you happy?

Is this day a bittersweet moment?

We make eye contact

I smile, so do you.

Are your eyes filled with memories?

They seem on the verge of tears

You turn away your smile as the waitress brings your lunch

Our waitress brings boxes and the check

You sit with pride

  dressed in a red button down shirt

  and a red and black tie

A perfect outfit for Valentine’s day

Whatever your story is

   she must have made it unforgettable

I write

I write

    because no one seems capable of returning a shopping cart to the cart corral

    or slowing down for a yellow light

    or using a blinker to help other drivers know what they are doing

I write

    because there is too much hate in the world

    It is infecting our everyday life

    A 19-year-old rapes and kills a 66-year-old woman because he “had nothing better to do”

    Children can not go to a movie, school, shopping, or a basketball game

         without some kind of violence: gun, knife, or words

I write

   because school board members have personal agendas

   Teachers are burned out from testing

        tired from screaming parents (that won’t return a shopping cart)

   Students don’t even care what they will be when they grow up

   They have the newest app, Facebook friends, and 10k likes

    How can you want anything more than that?

I write

    because there is enough money

    It just isn’t used for the the things we say are important

    We preach one message but spend on something else

    Even the civility we get from the drive thru is scripted

I write

    because sunsets and sunrises never stop being beautiful

    A day is always an opportunity to show love

    Even if it is as simple as returning a few carts to the corral

I write

     for my family and friends

     To let them know I love them

     That I will stand for them

       no matter the rising waves of pain in this world

I write

  because my heart beats blood through my veins

  pulsing to my fingers

     that produce these words

     this poem

     for you to read