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They wondered how to get to the top without climbing on the backs of others.

Wanted to know the path up because level ground was miserable.

A bleak fact of being trampled.

Being a worm pressed in the ground.

Are there other options here?

Caterpillars learning they have wing appendages.

Is there hope for butterflies?

Collaboration of some children's story from the 70's.

Still rings true.

Choosing heart shaped wings.

Posted Wed Mar 21 14:14:50 2018

That was before.

That was before rocks weighed down Woolf under the river.

Night blasting over Europe.

Bodies melting in Auschwitz.

Books were burned in her library.

So she learned to lie.

I am with the Germans, she lied.

I am one of them, she lied.

This man is my husband, she grasped for her dignity.

Her books were burning.

Poetry was banned.

Children were murdered for not being able to walk.

Children were murdered for their parent's religion.

Babies too.

Take off your shoes, step in.

She was glad she had read the Book of Lies.

She saw a little Jewish girl in the street.

The generals went down the line.

Asking to see these children's lies.

If they refused, blasts went off.

The girl was too far off.

The girl did not know how to lie.

She died then and there, shoes on.

Three bullets in her side.

Posted Wed Mar 21 00:47:30 2018

The poets asked for a soothsayer to sing the rain.

When she came, she was imperfect.

The good boys told her to lie.

So she found a bed of pansies and rested.

The worn women of the ward came worrying with consonance.

They spent their rag money to get close to her.

They saw their lives flash in her.

Lie they said.

Lie soon.

Unarmed and unprotected, she trusted them.

Immediately she lay beside a cruel man in an alley.

He staggered her way as the women dispersed homeward.

One turned back to her begging her to lie before skirting.

The girl lost her innocence on that day when asked why she rested there.

She kept to the truth before he assaulted her.

She fought hard but she was small.

A lump of flesh with a soul stumbling homeless for shelter that night.

All the eyes looked crazy.

A barefoot man approached her.

He asked if she needed help.

He did not tell her to lie.

He did not cover her beady eyes.

Accustomed only to honesty, she chirped yes.

He took her to his library.

She was given a room and a meal for the night.

The next morning, she was so confused.

She started to leave, but the barefoot man returned with books.

He said she was leaving too soon to know the truth.

That is how she learned to read.

Reading gave her the answers she needed to teach others.

On Friday nights she wrote letters to her students.

She learned to see when doors were open.

She learned to shut and lock doors.

She learned to sing to the rain.

She prayed to never lie.

Posted Wed Mar 21 00:23:43 2018

Quit everything.

Hope for forgiveness.

Hope for a way back in a river impossible.

Hope for everything back.

Hope for just one minute an ease to shenpa.

Shenpa ate the river.

Shenpa ate forgiveness.

Shenpa ate hope.

Grasshopper, quit quitting, they say.

Grasshopper perishes in a flicker.

Nobody teachin' grasshopper to stay

- fight the mockin' bird.

Fight the river.

Fight time.

No - grasshopper dies each time.

Sometimes daily.

Quit hoppa

hope hoppa hop.

Give up.

You are impermanent.

Let the shenpa ride your back.

Let shenpa take you.

Let shenpa own your soul.

Shenpa is a wave.

You are meant to go.

Posted Tue Mar 20 23:59:55 2018

Question 1:

When I am a jerk, let me rest. When I am rested, only when the sun streams from my eyes will I stop doubting for a minute. Past the doubt may I find a faithfulness in you. I know, even broken, that family is always family. I know, fractured and crying, that you will always be kindred. Why do I ask questions that just cause pain? Why do I have to be a jerk to see clearly? Do I have to be a jerk? Is there a way to learn something better?

I am but a humble jerk, for you.


Maybe I cower from fighting, maybe I fumble at finding strength for arguing words, maybe I have strong reasons, history of struggle, this is my cycle, I get overwhelmed, I pull inside my shell, I rebuild, I try to repair the broken bits.

Today, I am here to learn to stand up for myself, to ask for space, but also to will myself into speaking. I am someone. At least, I want to be someone.

Posted Tue Mar 20 11:05:49 2018

When I lived in the rainforest

I learned so many birds.

I loved the call of the bell bird

the grace of the Mott Mott.

The diversity of hummingbirds

and how the quetzal

showed themselves to me

of rare resplendence.

I saw fields of parrots

migrating above

and was lured by how

they spoke together.

But none of the birds

were anything

like the common grackle.

Banded by scientists

for study.

I watched them

poke their beaks

at the itchy bands.

Their wilderness interrupted.

And maybe it was for true reasons.

Maybe there was good intent.

It did not drive them crazy.

Yes, they carried this plastic.


In a flight no human will master.

Posted Thu Mar 15 13:17:39 2018

Once a kind man gave me a wooden heart. I tied it around my neck. A demonstration of knowing I was loved.

Once a true friend was always there for me. I never lost his faithfulness though distant we have drifted. That was all for me he left.

Once a kind man gave me shelter from winds baring on my soul. A quiet place surrounding me. Peace.

Posted Thu Mar 15 13:01:08 2018

If you live to have a daughter

pray she know he strength

and draw on it internal

when thoughts need to collect.

Pray she listen inner

before asking someone's thoughts.

Pray she stand their ironing

if he washes the pots.

But if he just sits on the television sluggish

grant your daughter strength to know her wish.

Sometimes knowing what you want

means just to sit a while longer

other times when answers daunt

the questions make us stronger.

So trust in the questions.

Let them be prayers.

Dig deep inside of them.

If they rush you beware.

Posted Mon Mar 12 12:14:53 2018

We both have two paths in front of us.

Our life depends on bravery and wit.

If I ever find a way inside,

God have me stay a bit.

Everything is up to God

and the wind's direction.

Of course I know what I must do

for a chance for your affection.

Posted Sun Mar 11 11:14:17 2018

Very few things do I know.

Not how many waves per minute wash up against the shores of the Atlantic.

I don't know that

and if I had to approximate,

I would guess based on the rhythms of my own heartbeat.

But I really only know a thing or two.

Not what time it is if the clock were covered

tho I am a good guesser

which is what got me through college.

Still it took 12 years

so losing track of time seems a potential weakness.

But there are a couple things I know.

And you might ask me how I know?

But I just know.

Posted Thu Mar 8 04:18:38 2018