from “Renditions of Change” a work in progress
Speaking truth to myself
is difficult—as to power,
just more dangerous: no
compromise with evil,
nor abatement.
(April 10, 2019)
Breakthrough (Resoluteness)
Category: courage
Darkening of the Light
from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress
At night a light
exposes one, opens
like a wound to bleed
out into the dark.
I want to stay
hidden within
my secrets, to hold
my desires close
like a small flame.
It’s safe there, stitched
tight between muscle
and bone, waiting
to enkindle a better day.
(March 23, 2019)
The Taming Power of the Small
from “Change,” a work in progress
Our government horrifies me,
and I feel powerless–
Each day I read and talk
with my students;
they exude such optimism
and hope, I’m humbled.
A slight breeze stirs
the oak leaves;
dawn breaks slowly
over all.
(January 25, 2019)
The Army
from “Change,” a work in progress
Poetry, like dark earth,
contains my strength.
(January 24, 2019)
Home
There is less to do,
less to talk about now.
Where do I lay
my belief like a sack
full of rocks? When
do I shuck off
the tired traces
and stand unburdened?
There is no where
to go, but here–
and finally I have come
to a place I have
always been unknown,
a place that is mine.
(September 18, 2018)
onward into the day
“Love is the root of everything….Love, or the lack of it.”
— Fred Rogers
like glass resonant in trembled anger
the fear is outrageous and constant
one horrific event erases the next
in an infinite succession of bomb blasts
bludgeoning attention to a bloody slurry
only the noise of the moment matters
and it does not matter even then
but only in the silence it creates in you
the silence of the possibility of dissent
so one must learn to hear without
hearing deafly to see again without
seeing blindly to go with open trust
across the shattered shards of glass
onward into the darkening night
(June 23, 2018)
Resignation’s Not Enough
Like an old ox under yoke who pulls
Again, and again, until he cannot
Pull any longer; then stops, and waits
as if waiting were an art to be
savored, instead of endured like pain,
I’m frayed, worn thin from being;
From what I’ve been; from who I am.
I wait caught in quandary’s eddy,
Without knowing what I wait upon.
I linger over every trivial decision,
As if all time stood still and waited
For permission to take the tatters,
And transform into someone new.
I must move; yet I wait, afraid to move.
(April 16, 2017)
