To the Tattooed Barista

Yes,

I noticed how you waited a few extra seconds

to acknowledge me waiting there

seconds can speak volumes

Then you politely ignored my order

and asked me to repeat it

Disdain shining bright behind your round rimmed fashion eyewear

I am looking sharp in black slacks and a mint green shirt with matching tie

While waiting in line I checked my iPhone

I know what you're thinking

I once thought like Holden Caulfield

Not sure where I was going

Just sure I didn’t want to be like those lawyers downtown in a suit and tie

I don’t know the exact words you judged me with

but I felt it, the judgment just the same

I will admit to selling out,

Selling out to my wife and six kids

Selling out to my students that I will be teaching today

(That’s why I dress professionally, for them)

I will admit to selling out to my life, all 43 years so far

So, thank you for the coffee

And I was going to ask about the arm tattoo

I liked the design

But you decided in a few seconds I wasn’t worth your time.

I wrote a poem...

I wanted to write the greatest poem of all time

but what did I know of life

I am only a father and husband

a friend

a dreamer

a poet

a man standing at the center of his life

What could I share with you that would connect to your everyday life?

I wanted to write the greatest poem of all time

but what did I know of pain

I only have my past and heart

my blood

my failures

my loss

a man still hurting from his life

What could I share with you that would connect to your everyday life?

I wanted to write the greatest poem of all time

but what did I know of answers

I am only a lonely soul

a heartbeat

a breath

a moment

a man made like no other

What could I share with you that would connect to your everyday life?

I wanted to write the greatest poem of all time

but what I wrote was this poem.

Left at Home

We are always traveling roads

  that never bring us home

Through sun, snow, and sin

We try to find the destination for our heart

 a place to rest our feet

 and pillows for our heads to rest

In a panic we pat our pockets

 turn in a circle

 and check again

    but we left our hearts

on the kitchen counter

so we stop

turn around

 and hope we find our way back

Blindsided

You can still be blindsided
   on a one way street

At any moment
  someone else's mistake
   can kill you

We give trust so blindly
  to perfect strangers

Yet we make the people closest
   to us
    work to even see us smile

You have to look both ways
  in this world
   to keep from being blindsided

Sunday Morning

My 22 month old daughter gets restless in church

We walk out to the entryway

The hymns still audible

Though the father's voice is now muffled

The outer doors are glass

The sun of Sunday morning warm on our skin

She expresses joy as birds fly and land

On the church lawn

Carefree they search for food

As my daughter laughs and points

"Burds," she tells me

She looks at me to make sure I see

"Birds," I repeat back

She tries to follow one with her finger

as it takes flight

She turns to me again

Smiling she says, "burds"

But I hear the word joy

A March Day

I feel the sun against my face

     warm and bright
The wind of winter caresses my back

Both elements vying for my attention
     future and past
     mixing with the weather

The aching shiver of past regrets
     move with the breeze
          against my arms

I grasp them
    trying to keep them warm
As the sun’s rays makes me squint into the future
    dreams so big
    it hurts to look at them
        even as I feel my face drawn to the light

Today the past and future vie for my attention

I smile
     as I notice the direction of the winter wind
It is moving me toward the sun

Hate is a Loan Shark

Hate is a loan shark

You meet him in the darkest alleys

  Staying away from any light

No names are exchanged

   Or terms of the loan

You know the interest will be high

But only desperate measures are completed in the dark

Hate is a loan shark

You know him by the way he hides his eyes

With the brim of his hat

He doesn’t care who you are

  Only in the name of the victim

  And the payment

Before you can back out

His hand has yours

And the contract is done

   Maybe it is a post on the screen

   Or a phrase uttered at the lunch table

   Or a simple fist to the face

Doesn’t matter

All contracts are final

Hate is a loan shark

And payment is due

He lets go of your hand

And stands with his open

No matter how much of your heart

  You place on his palm

   It will never be enough

He will collect for years to come

He will be there behind you inline at Starbucks

Or greet you as you enter the store

He’ll wave as you pass him in the park

   Keeping your eyes on the stroller you are pushing

Doesn’t matter when

   He will collect

     And it will never be enough

Hate is a loan shark

   You have been warned