Grace

Grace, four years old,
Curled up in a suitcase and fell asleep,
Grace is the curve of a butterfly wing,
A house without mirrors,
Another day the sun shining,
The waterwheel ceasing its grinding,
A full-night's sleep,
Acceptance
Breathing.

Grace is the pacific slowly heaving
The sand shifting as you dance
Your hair flailing wild in the wind.
The leaves putting on their dresses,
Red and yellow, nighttime flashes,
Dying with smiling dignity
Streaming into infinities
With a firework scream

A mother's arms
Crying
Testing a broken wing.
She walks slowly, loves so firmly,
Never troubled, never rushed.
A pulse like the coming of autumn.

The World Traveller

The world traveller had an anxiety attack
Because he had to move across town
Will work for hugs, but doesn't know
What to say when someone asks about money
I don't want any.

Last Monday my heart gave out on me,
Maybe it was long before last Monday.
The leaves are green, but they shout on deaf ears,
I smile and laugh, and I wonder what strange thing this is
To be happy.

I never thought that settling would be so stressful.
I never thought that the promised land could be lonely.
I thought I'd left my fears behind.
I thought my faith was inside of me.

The infinite possibilities have caught in the gutter,
Choking on a dream of anything,
Workaholics anonymous will not be meeting.
The workaholic always eventually feels like quitting everything.
Everyone's got a plan, no one's got as many as me
Everyone's got a plan, everyone's got a plan
For me.

And the homeless man just wants to go home.
The roamer made more friends, and felt more loved,
In one night at a hostel.
Everybody wants to f*ck a movie star,
But no one wants to be their friend.
Everybody wants to learn English,
But words are just penstrokes and tongued sounds and whispered nothings.

Fevered

A sick mind is impressionable

The fireworks today went on and on, explosions in the sky,

It made me feel war, it made shudder for splintered bodies.

The bands playing wild late into the night, I can imagine the skeletons dancing.

You are light, and it's not the medication,

Every film blows you stronger, an amplified butterfly effect

when I watched that one, all I saw that night was pain

Child murders on repeat, self-hate, and the pounding fever in my brain

Muttering "ow" every 30 seconds or so, because it gives your mind

something else to do, because if you don't, if you try to fight it,

you'll go insane and want to die.

After vomiting a glass of water, you take sips

with prayers, hoping you can keep down another, knowing if you can't,

it's tubes or death.  You need the water to keep the pills down.

You need the water to live. 

And what do you think about? 

You think about everything.  Loneliness.  Love.  God.  Purpose.

But not deeply.  You try to escape.

You try to accomplish something, end up napping.

Writing makes exhausts me, I

don't have this kind of energy. 

I hate this room; there is shit on my pants

in the laundry bag in the corner.  It smelled at first.  And half-eaten

food, random everything, everywhere. 

On Christmas eve I went for a walk, I got lost

On my way home from taking my sister to the airport.

I had to do something, because I knew I couldn't spend that evening

alone.  I got lost five times, I wanted

to go see a movie, but

My friends didn't want me to cross the street alone, they said it was dangerous.

Victor doesn't trust the locals, doesn't see hope for redemption.

Strange.  He held me across my chest when I had finished vomiting.

It made me feel better, but then I was cold, so cold,

And then I needed six blankets to not feel cold.  And the cold

makes you feel sick.  It makes going to the bathroom, or

trying to get water, dangerous, because you could lose that precious water

again.

While walking I thought of where I wanted to be. 

I thought of my dear friends, playing music.

Of the possibility of sex.

I chatted with her the next day, it was a nice conversation,

nothing dirty or even romantic. 

Afterwards I was ashamed.

Day five I am feeling better, but breakfast put me back in bed.

I should give up eating breakfast.  It doesn't like me.

I watched two films on being dehumanized and held captive, about

trying to escape.  I want to leave this bed, but I have nowhere to go,

I should sleep, but there's no time anymore, there's no point.

I slept 18 hours the first day.  Well, I don’t know how much was sitting

staring at the ceiling.  I gave my sister my clock. 

There's nothing to get up for tomorrow. 
I could sleep all day.  I want to accomplish something.

God, I pray that this would go away.

So I could think straight.

 

Gentleness

Written for my 5th Class Students' Character Class

Sometimes a whisper is stronger than a shout

Sometimes silence can be the most loud

There are some walls only gentleness can break down

And all storms are best weathered with calm.

A whisper echoes in our mind, intimate,

There is expectation, there is strength,

A whisper draws us in.

A whisper says “I see you, yes, you,

And I care but...”

Sometimes silence speaks the deepest love,

Mercy is a silence,

Listening is a silence.

And sometimes gentleness just says

The most with a smile or nod of a head.

Nothing can break into a barred heart

Like a simple hug.

And a raised fist could never inflict as much damage

As the lowered eyes of one who loves.

You never yelled, you just firmly placed your hand on my arm,

Telling me everything I needed to know.

Quick to listen, slow to speak,

Slow to become angry. 

An open hand can always hold more than a fist,

And to shake hands you must unclench them.

Gentleness, people think gentleness is crazy

They treat it like a baby, but when you meet somebody

So strong as to not demand their own way,

So strong that you can interrupt them, bulldoze them,

And they still just stand strong and wait,

It is unsettling.

When you meet someone so strong that they won’t fight you even when you want to,

When they smile and ask “what’s wrong?”

It changes you.

Do you see how the rain comes with gentleness?

How the mother duck leads out her young,
How fragile the universe is,

How easily we break one another.

Our clumsy fat fingers can cause catastrophe

Just by touching a moth’s wings;

A candle can be snuffed out if you’re not careful

How you breathe.

Gentleness doesn’t bust in the door, demanding,

Gentleness doesn’t need to yell or flail.

It’s the slow drip of rain becoming a river,

It’s the quiet persistent knocking at the door.

Gentleness can, and gentleness will,

But there’s nothing to prove and

No need to make a scene

When we move with grace,

The mountains will give way.

So if you want to move the world,

Learn how to sing lullabies,

Learn how to breathe deep, like

sunsets or morning dew

If you want to be strong,

There must be a strength inside you.

That is always moved,

But never rashly.

That is always concerned,

But never worried.

If you want to be the strongest man in the world.

You must learn how to wait

And breathe.