rearrangedletters

give, not receive

Written and submitted by rearrangedletters

met a man on the street yelling & passing out pamphlets full of promises waiting to be fulfilled if i will only give to him. tells me he’s a faith healer. “sounds great to me.”, I tells him. “my faith is nearly dead. but the irony is that it is because of people like you.” he walked away muttering about how i didn’t understand and I gave my last dollar to a homeless man.
solitude

i’m headed out into an open field

going to visit the stars tonight

in my new coat

and new attitude

going to lie on the cold ground

(far away from the piercing lights

and constant noise of this city)

i will dream i am a child

who’s been told the parade is tomorrow.


please rain, visit us another day.

battleground

put your shoes back on.

this place isn’t holy

and your soul is safe here.

this ground isn’t sacred.

the dirt is just stained with the blood

of many a man, believing

himself a patriot

because his leaders

told him so,

fought and died

to make you believe

it is worthy of your honor.

those men giving orders

are not counting the bodies

piling up.

they are counting the dollars

these wars drop

into their waiting hands.


freedom is free.

Writing & Appreciation

I’ve had this blog for not quite a month now. I’ve posted 65 things. (Let’s call them poems for now.) I have more drafts than I do posts. I’m holding on to them like children in a busy parking lot. I’m afraid to let go.

Writing isn’t always easy. Even when you finish something, you have to build up the courage to share it. I feel like a child screaming, “Hey, look what I did!” after posting something new.

I’m just rambling about this process. But, my destination is: I really do appreciate each and every one of you who chooses to follow me and/or read anything I write. Thanks!

unsent letter to a departed friend

i can’t believe

it’s been eight years.

if you were here

i would tell you

that i’m sorry

for being late

to your funeral.

i was making out

with a girl

and lost track of time.

i would also tell you

that i’m sorry

i refused to be a pallbearer.

i did that not because

i didn’t love you

but because i loved you

so much.

i want to remember you

as something else,

not a weight

in my hands

i helped carry

from one place

to another place,

but a friend who just left

for a long vacation.

i hope your journey

went well

and you are fine

over there.

i miss you.


p.s. i married the girl.

we named our son after you.

finding home

dead stars fall

upon my head nightly

while i walk towards a home

i have yet to find


with heavy legs & heavy heart

i always collapse

beneath a burning sun

which never illuminates enough


shielding my eyes

i look to the distant horizon

scanning the fading shadows

my place is out there somewhere


and there are smiling faces

and welcoming arms

so i struggle to stand

and take another step forward