Taking Refuge

I am a child,

and I already know more
of war and devastation
than you do, if you are
listening to me now.
You might hear my bold assertion,
and simply ask yourself how.
Do you know me?
Do you know yourself?
Do you even want to?
Will you ever grow to see
the wisdom and compassion
in those scriptures on your shelf?
or will your willfull ignorance
forever haunt you?
You may think the world
is simply filled with don’ts and do’s,
things you should and
shouldn’t choose,
real and fake news,
moments of celebration
far outnumbering those that give
us the blues,
so how can you condemn me
for doing what you yourself
would do,
if you were stuck right here
in my shoes.
I am a child.
Proove to me
you are worthy of trust,
you are ready to listen,
you are able to hear me,
and I will share my child’s
voice with you. The truth is
I’ve only known despair,
war, torture, abuse, and hunger,
but still I’d rather rejoice with
you. Make the choice
to pursue a dreamland.
Boisterously scream
at the top of my lungs
for all the stuff I’ve already
seen and been, and had to
take on the chin, I can’t even
begin. And then,
I get here, thinking
for a tenth of a second, ‘win’
when this all happens
and I don’t know which end
is up, I’m too scared to count
to ten, I dont speak the
language, and now there’s
frothing dogs barking
at me again. I can only
see my family if I close
my eyes and really think.
There’s never enough
food to eat or
water to drink.
My whole life has
become a ship
you watched sink.
And now you have me
sleeping on the floor
of a clink.
I am a child.
When you look into
my eyes you might be
surprised by how wise
silent replies seem.
You feel your own mortality
a bit more than usual.
You see your own
soul looking back
at you.
I want to wrap my
arms around the
ones I love and trust
more than anyone,
but I can’t.
I am a child,
there but for the grace
your child.
And I’m growing up
in a world where
might makes right,
and tonight could be
the final night,
and no concept
of any rights,
just that I’m alone
and scared, and I can’t
sleep because of the
lights. But I’m trying
and trying with all my
might, to fight for my
life. I’m a child in a fight
for life, and all that I’m asking
is that you acknowledge
that I exist. I exist in space
and time. I’ve committed
no crime. I inhabit this
turbulent, tempestuous, telltale
climb for a shot, at a chance,
at a breath, at an opportunity,
at a lucky toss for a life
I could be happy with,
which you might throw away.
A life in which hope might
begin to rain someday.
And I’m not even asking you
to pave the way.
I am child who could
have been your parent,
I am a child who could have
been you.
I am a child who could
have been yours
to raise amidst
military uprisings
over property, and
ongoing civil wars.
I am a child.
I am a refugee.
I am a fighter
for life, with a soul.
My whole existence
has taken its toll,
and I may or may not
make the evening news roll.
I may never grow old.
I may never hold my family
again. I’m doing what I’m told,
but my teacher is pain,
and I’m a child.
I am a child in this world.
Your world.
I am a child in
your world.
I’ll let you sit with that
and rest.
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~ A heart can be harmed in revealing ~

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Everything

It can be a protest

or it can be a celebration.

It is whatever you make

it to be,

it is an audition,

an interview,

a test,

a preparation,

and it matters.

.

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The Classic

You start great conversations.

You foster adventure, and discover

a hole-in-the-wall place which begs

for a visitation.

You are rugged beauty,

poetry in motion,

the fruit of labor,

and countless stories.

You show and shine.

You hum and you roar,

you know you’re divine,

and yet somehow,

always leave us wanting

some more.

You are ready for war,

living in peace,

at home in your own skin,

and a provider of release

for the daydreamer

in us all.

#reno #renoisrad #renoasfuck #biggestlittlecity #renocreatives #biggestlittleartscity #morearteverywhere #sparks #nevada #homemeansnevada #destinationnevada #travelnevada #silverstate #battleborn #RenoRising #summertime #hotaugustnights #classic #classiccars #classictrucks #poetry #poem #poems #poet #poets #poetsofinstagram #poetsofig #poetryofinstagram #atlantis #showandshine

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Better than Famous

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.

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Noise

There’s so much noise in the world, I need the quiet, to distill it into poetry.

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~ Incapacitating Cultural Experience, Imperfect Character Expires ~

A cell is the unit of life,

a cell can be filled with fancy numbers in excel’s accounting,

but we can’t account for the strife,

in children dying and their numbers mounting.

Seven hundred fifty seven precious children’s lives,

waiting in hell to get to freedom or heaven,

if this lesson lived isn’t survived.

So we will be bound and gagged,

to represent the deadline lagged,

ninety four minutes freshly tagged,

so that another little body isn’t bagged.

She may not have even been in a cell at the time.

But the hell she could never tell before the cell,

plus the well of memories from the cell,

well, it was just too much.

The towel thrown in, the wrung bell and such.

We want to s/cell everything in this country,

with a ‘c’ and a ‘s’,

the same things we’ve always tossed

at this uncontrollable mess.

Two of the three in our

Stars and Stripes trinity;

the third and missing is death.

All hail the almighty dollar,

and if it can’t be bought, fought,

bombed, or rom~combed,

then it should be dropped and locked up

on the spot, because it might keep

me or the powers that be

from getting a lot, when the getting is good,

and hot.

This girl. This child. This image bearer of God.

This world, not so meek and mild,

wild and bright-eyed,

laughs at the fractures in our bod.

This world sees our gangs and their struggles for power,

It sees our governments and their perpetual shifts,

it sees the heart of man ready, willing, and able to devour,

but struggling to leave its youth a pathway to the truth,

or good and sustainable gifts.

This world sees us strain to uplift,

but tear down without breaking stride.

It sees our extreme emotions shift,

and the perpetual waves signifying white pride.

This world aims to see where we should aim,

As Brendan C. says, the opposite of a gun

is wherever you point it,

I cannot tell you her first, middle, or last name,

or that of a special advocate who was appointed.

The headline came and went leaving us spent looking to blame,

whoever for the simple now being disjointed.

It’s as if we’re waiting in line to sub in to this wicked game,

while continuously weeping, hoping to be anointed.

Mothers down on their knees in the streets,

no shoes on their feet, feeling incomplete,

crying out to the author of all life above.

The answer, so simple and sweet,

in today’s world, an astounding feat,

the answer my friends, is to love.

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