Waking Up Beyond Mere Existing

Waking up to your dream-reality past the banality of mere existence
In insistence and persistence of catching an ideal and holding onto it
Not letting it go in flow of time even when the clock chimes midnight
Which means standing squarely in the bright light of this blessed life
And taking a numinous knife to cut off all of the obstacles in the way
To claim the day and say ‘I have won’ as you stand in the shining sun
Where you will no longer succumb to mediocrity or societal idolatry
You have awakened beyond mere existence . . . to living an alive life!

Moving Past My Past

Shall my shame be the game we’ll continue to play?
Will you, my loved ones, make display of my faults?
As one day passes into another, night after night
Will this same light shine on all of my inadequacies?
While I churn and burn inside to take a turn in life,
Will I have the chance to dance a brand new dance?
Or will I be stuck in mediocrity under sovereignty
Of another who has managed to achieve much more?
I say, ‘no!’ I will overcome with some help from One,
And the sun will shine brighter and lighter on me!
I’ll not be plowed under or cut asunder from success
Because of past failures but reach for what truly lasts!
My fate isn’t sealed and I’ll not take the bait of despair
But make the necessary repairs and move on forward!

Self-Motivation: An Inside Conversation

What is churning inside you? What is turning you and twisting you, insisting on dominating you?

Truly, I don’t know. I have nothing to show. There seems to be an empty space inside and no ace to play.

You sound like you’re trapped, so wrapped up within yourself you’re beyond motion and lively emotion.

But, no, I’m not trapped inside; I’ve simply collided with an impenetrable wall that will not fall.

Climb over the wall, then; it’s not so tall! And it’s not meant to fall anyway. The wall is there for you . . . for your own good.

You mean something like a challenge to my knowledge and balance, my determination and the maturation of my imagination, my vision and decision to reach my destination with no more hesitation?

Ah! And here you’ve been sitting in stagnation, as if a victim of emasculation! Up, then, and over the wall — or under or around — but you’re bound to get to the other side if only you decide no longer to abide where you are, lying like corpse under the same stars!

Yes, of course . . . I’ll never know what plunder there is on the other side if I simply abide where I am. And I should chide myself for sitting here so long, where I don’t belong; after all, life is a journey, and one not to be made on a gurney!

Note: Originally published early in September 2016

Liquid Crystal Moving: Peace

mocking voices
crosstalk of cursing
knocking down doors
people locking


surprising resistance
no blinking
no winking


lighting the way
sighting the goal
writing peace
lease on life


standing tall
banding in chords
commanding attention
demanding justice


Note: In my poem, “One Day, Same Day,” I admitted that I did not know what to label this form of poetry . . . and I still don’t; however, it is obviously poignantly-pointed and sectional. For the time being, at least, Tanya Cliff and I have decided on the suave-sounding vers l’avant, which (lit.) means “forward verse.” Perhaps there will one day even be a category for vers l’avant! Who knows? Obviously, I enjoyed it enough that I thought I’d give it another go! Hope you enjoy!

Unseen Hand: You Are Worthy

Fetal-curled in the corner of your room, you wail,
Want to bail your way out of life so rife with pain;
But there is an ear that hears, my dear, and an eye
That spies your body shaking and quaking with fear;
An unseen hand brushing gently that strand of hair
Hanging loosely down your face so smeared with tears.
There is a voice whispering gently a better choice,
And arms to hold from harm, so bold and comforting,
Adorning you with grace; there is much more in store
For you, for you are precious, and the night is new.
There is an omen what casts the gnomon for dreams
Of sun at noon time in your heart for aesthetic part
Of beauty so unique in mystique, not weak, oblique;
In fascination you were born, infatuation of angels,
Incarnation of divine creativity, ovation of creation;
You were conceived in God’s own womb ere you were born
To scorn of world cruel, with drool of dæmonic ghoul,
Who would fool you with his trope that tis no hope,
And have you crying neath his lying rather than flying
Up into celestial realms where is your home and tome
Of your life so grand and magnificent; so now stand
And be confident and free! This is not the end, no!
But now transcend false care, for you will well-fare
On your feet square; strong, straight back and no lack
Of might and clear, bright sight, for you are yourself,
And there is the unseen hand ere to help you withstand
… and eye that sees, and ear that hears …