life is a frightful entity,
stupid, crude, and cruel.
It can not be helped.
Albeit,
we are responsible,
and must hold ourselves accountable.
It has been written
and preached
when one is born,
and immediately is guilty.
How can that be?
Is being innocent, a crime?
What is the crime, really?
I have a wild impulse to smash something.
to completely let loose
with a baseball bat.
but where?
Every time Wolf walked upon the line,
He’d touch the French Stove
With his fingertips.
As he dragged his fingertips
Across the hot metal,
The heat burned through his skin
To warm his soul.
It reminded him of his grandmother
Of the mornings he’d sit at the table,
watching her cook,
And listen to the pans
clanked on the hot metal of the stove,
And she’d tell him stories,
Of the past, and her imagined future.
And he wondered,
Why every emotion costs so much.?
In life
things whirl about you.
the very ground we walk and stand upon
spins;
and, the earth in itself
orbits the sun.
and all that spins.
within
the universe.
As a child,
I’d spin
and spin and spin
and spin
and frail about
crashing into things
and in that strange state of vertigo,
I was the center of a hurricane.
I was standing still
and everything else was spinning.
every wheel has a center
unmoving
the center of our galaxy is the sun.
Where is the center of the universe?
Is that where we will find god?
The morning broke the silence,
reflecting the sun’s light
into the darkness
putting the shadows on the run,
as it shines through the blinds;
and exposes the flowers outside the window.
We woke to birds singing
outside the window,
and a woodpecker
tapping bugs out of the siding.
Flowers know all the best gossip,
The Birds and the Bees.
Pass it on.
And it quickly turns to voice mail.
Wondering.
How much the stamps cost
to send my voice to you?
Smyon-Pa 