Watching strangers on the subway

I find a spot to stand on the train

and it feels like a paradise,

spaces between strangers sock and shoes

and sweat and stories—

let me keep my distance.

Although there is a tiredness to it.

I was taught I could do any damn thing,

and I believe it: I feel my uniqueness

lifting me up as a I walk,

swarming around in my veins

a home for the hive, bees going extinct

but I know where the honey is:

it’s right here, honey.

 

Touch the water.

Tell me about it in 10 years when your city has none

a reality not yet created yet so tangible I want to reach out

and touch it, drag it back to now so I connect my future son-

in-law to my sink, so he can grab a bucket and fill it,

empty it, fill it, empty it into Chennai, into Cape Town.

 

I know New York will follow one day

does my specialness stand a chance? Does our ability

to find our race and run it define our character,

our identity,

our existence

the years that have been dripping by,

like water from a faucet,

like honey from a hive.

I know that I cannot solve any problem alone but where do I

start? Tell me where to put this water and these bones and I’ll do it.

Just promise me someone will be here when the flowers bloom.

 

June 28, 2019

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vain

does death

always have to come

with vain

 

if the proper steps aren’t taken,

if you decide

to sit with it for a while,

question

why the loss of something,

someone,

can’t just stand still, be what it is,

a truth that lays down

beneath the dirt besides its owner,

doesn’t trickle into the water

asking you to take a drink,

to take it as your own.

 

it’s hard work, making sense of it;

but maybe we are responsible, in part.

 

maybe we can choose, if we are willing,

if we are able, to hold onto the love

that you have lost and rekindle it,

make it something valuable, something important–

something that, in it’s own way,

allows us to say,

“At least he didn’t die in vain.”

 

July 30, 2017

It’s been a busy weekend…

Happy Labor Day!

 

In honor of someone I love, I shared this story on Instagram today.  I wanted to share it here, too.

 

Last night someone asked me why we, humans, exist. I responded with what I believe: to observe without judgement, and to love. And yet, just moments before, I spent time explaining that there are always limits to what we can know for sure, that there are no “absolute truths.” I now realize that this is still true; therefore, instead of knowing our purpose, or even simply believing in it, we must create it. Chanel your Being, your connection to others, into a life of meaning and peace. Even if I don’t “know” that this is a truth, I can know that I – that we together- created it. We can all put our love into practice.

 

September 6, 2015

Purpose

To live

a life of purpose:

it is what I desire

at the core

to observe, to learn

to listen, to love

to be around those I love

whenever I can

there will be names to learn

at every turn

don’t turn your soul away

from the very Being it is–

I wish to look at it

in all souls,

to write words that express

what it’s like for children

who eat bags of chips for breakfast and lunch

go to court before dinner

and complete non-existent homework

their teacher assigned today in class

I want my words to depict a face

to feel a face

to make you not wish you were there

but know that at some level,

you were.

I still believe that life is art

waiting for us to wake up

and capture it.

July 2, 2015

While Dreaming

At another time,

I forgot why

I existed,

why not crawl down

the river,

then swim…

…..

I gaze out,

over a hazy blue horizon

and wonder

at all,

question nothing

and realize my purpose

is life,

itself.

….

Man must respect this,

shouldn’t they?

For there are many others

that share my wish,

do not simply stare at it like a silver moon

they toss rocks at it,

royal diamonds into the air

to capture the light

reflecting off the edges.

..

My dream is now.

.

Our dream is forever.

April 13, 2015