Kindness is more than a word,
although all words have spark of light
because words bleed meaning,
infused with divine birthright
even out of the mouths
of mortals and neophytes.
Everyone wants to know
life’s greatest mystery.
It’s simple:
read your history
and exchange your brokenness for beauty,
your porcelain mask for the Japanese art
of Kintsugi.
“A diary,
documenting a life in hiding;
her pen,
an ally in the fighting,
inciting a literary rebellion
against Svengalis and Nazis—
cannibals,
tearing body and flesh
to pieces;
spitting out bones
like animals,
praying in the name of Jesus”
Just walkin into a room
requires all the courage
I can muster.
Exposed like a nerve.
Afraid to smile.
Do I let you in—
a place you don’t deserve
to make fun of my face
and call me “Herman Munster”?
Walkin up,
wearin Supreme,
holdin my skateboard,
takin jokes to the extreme,
trying to find my tribe,
my people group.
I’ll know when I’m home:
kind eyes find me
as collective lips pronounce,
“We-e-e a-a-are Groo-oot!”
“…distinguishing our friends on TikTok
from the system failure of the Matrix,
fictional agents who trip on the trip-wire
of a progressive déjà vu,
sounding the alarm for Pokémon
like Pikachu,
whose evolution to Raichu
seals the demise
of politicians and preachers
who wear a postmodern disguise.”
Those who live for the glamor and spotlight
drink drops of disco
that rages into the night.
Forget your westward expansion;
leave a fossil footprint of what’s right.
Androgynous highs and lows—
testosterone freezes
and estrogen flows
like snow,
sun-bathin on top of Kilimanjaro,
meltin glaciers below.
You exuded confidence
like one of Zeus’s thunderbolts
and beauty, oh greatness,
beauty that rivaled the cause
of the Trojan War—
Helen of Sparta’s passionate revolt.
how quickly we forget,
laying down palm branches
to casting stones a week later,
breaking stained glass windows
to our mansions,
crucifying our Creator.