Five Fourteen

If ever anything innovative entered our imagination

Dizzying displays of darkness daring to delve deep within us

Would we wrestle within it?

New is nervous. New never knows.

And anyway all anyone answers is always

“So? Someone sooner said something sillier, sexier, smarter”

Life loses luster learning limitations

Yet you yearn

Break Bonds! Be Big! Bully boring beyond its bounds!

Dull dies during displays of daring

Fortune favors the fearless, fun follows the free

Reforming regrets, we resolve:

We will wonder wider, wish wisely, warmly welcome all.

I Wonder

I wonder how much larger a rim is than the basketball it lands in.

That is to say, I wonder at what point it was determined the end goal of a game was challenging enough.

Each act has a threshold. The world is far more black and white than made for tv movies might wish you to believe. A light may be dimmed, but light is light, without qualifier. The threshold is darkness, pure and true.

Sometimes I will stand in the shower and pretend to cry. I shut my eyes tightly and clench my fists. As I let the water wash over my face I let out a small, stifled cry, the manifestation of a breath attempting to escape a restrained chest. Slowly I will lift one hand to my eyes to wipe away the water, but my face never dries.

I am willing to believe that each of us in unique. Unique means many things though. My car is unique from his, I might say. Unique how? Mine is blue, his black. Mine has a CD player, his has the distinct smell of cigarettes.

So how am I unique? Does my doppelganger exist, but with blue eyes? Does he like hiking? Is he a woman?

What if there is someone that shares every characteristic: here is our cd player, here is our smell of cigarettes. Must one of us fail and one succeed in order to maintain the cultural norm of uniqueness? Must my career path change to allow his to survive?

Sand

Driving through Sarasota, I almost begin to feel pity for those whose full foundations are stuck in the ground. Most buildings here base themselves with pillars of concrete, solid roots that seem to sprout from the asphalt parking lots, solid reflections of the abstract fears of the patrons of each business. The clientele of the earth-hugging establishments glare enviously upwards towards their loftier compatriots as my window passes by each panorama.

Walking along the beach at dusk, I think back to the stilted edifices as the shifting light makes the buildings’ pillars appear as legs, as if the buildings were simply resting and would, at any moment, get up and join our stroll. I point this out to my companion and she laughs, lecturing me on how anything as stiff and bulky would most certainly make a spectacle on the beach, slipping and sliding over the shifting sands. As we decide to turn back, I pause for a moment, and feel the sand beneath my toes and the waves lapping at my ankles. At that moment, I resolve:

I would rather face the insecurity and embarrassment of my choices and actions than remain motionless as the sands of my life shift around me.

A Prayer in Spring Time

here is a Jumping Feeling in my chest
My soul is doing jumping jacks
warming up for backflips and summersaults

That I'm Alive
That its summer, that it is green
that my enemies are few and my friends are many
that my family is loving and my community supportive

That i know so much and yet so little
That i can feel my toes
and smell through my nose
and make childish rhymes and noises and ideas
and not be embarrassed about it

I'm joyful for peanut butter on a spoon
or an apple or a banana
and tuna fish with mayonnaise
and chocolate chip cookies with milk at the end of a sad day
and hot chocolate on a cold one

I'm joyful because music can change my mood
and books can take me away
and i want to be famous
but i'm joyful because I'm not

The world is uncertain, and answers are few
but my soul is smiling
so i must be doing something right.

Man

Look at this man

stare, gawk, ogle him

his proud blue in tatters

his vibrant red in shreds

his powers were super in days when men were

pure evil

and

unequivocal good

when madmen and bad men made hobbies of

warning of their dastardly deeds and

creating escapable death traps

and luaghed as they robbed banks and

never shot anyone

oh that he could give a glance

a single glance

and refreeze the ice caps

but his fortress of solitude is melted

and you really can never go home again

"fly!" you might urge

"fly to the sun! regain your strength!"

and he will smile and shake his head

and point to a recent study on UV rays

and the evergrowing danger of melenoma

if you sit with him he'll tell you

about children starving in kenya and dying in sudan chechnia

about rockets in palestine and bullets in belgrade

and lawsuits and lawyers litigating absolute justice

he cant save them all

he is tired and alone

and if he gives everything he has

who will save superman?