Bienvenue

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New Orleans, i love you.
for your heavy heart.
blood thick thump, pulse.
cajun, creole, jambalaya.
alligator, shrimp,
oyster, seafood stew.
the menu you brew.

your hard earned blues.
passed up views.
rundown shanty bayou.
endless miles of swamp
to drown you, again.

your muddy Mississippi
boat houses.
blown over.
shotgun shacks
blown through.
pulling your left overs
back into you.

your soul full of
banjos, brass,
trumpet, harmonica
tuba, drums
beat. beat. beat.
exhaling jazz.

your living legends play
as budding generations
study each born note.
watching your second line.
parade and inebriate
marry, live, die
celebrate all.

crafted language,
collaged rhythms,
on all city corners.
diversity proud.
your street noise is music.
ramble down your
pulled brick avenues,
giant oak trees grew
through broken sidewalks.
mansions next to shacks.
columns marble.
columns parade.
trolleys move your people
through the troughs and peaks
of history.

crowded and ghostly.
you make us sing and cry
with the joys and
heart ache of life.
free of judgement.
all are welcome.
bienvenue.
all walks.
all talks.
the whole world.

the South will never
EVER rise again.
but, New Orleans has risen
from disaster after disaster.
war after war.
Nawlins,
all roads, all cultures
lead through you.

Deceptively Simple

pawn-mirror-chess-king-edit

a chess board is laid out new.
so many options.
each piece must conform
to its role.

to know empathy
play the pawn.
they are strong and many.
hear their voices.
each one, a choice.

when on the line
what will they do
to realign the board.
will they stay put.
will they cross into the fire.

the King and Queen
must think of
all the bodies.
all the blood.

will they lay down for me.
what is the strategy
for this human tragedy.

for a pawn has a life.
a family.
progeny.
dreams.

a symbol for freedom.
one step forward.
one step sideways.

deceptively simple.
for one move
can change all games.

Certainly Uncertain

uncertain

what do we have to draw from?
can we see reality for what it is.
a chance.
a mistake.
an enumeration of choices
that lead to this point.
to these words.
to my reaching out to you.
out of twelve billions years
of evolution.
of natural selection.
from single celled organisms.
to here. to now.
to these electrons on your screen
coming to to you like a dream.
claiming we are here together.
sharing in life’s journey.
where it takes us no one
knows, for certain.
for we are certain in our uncertainty.
if anything we know no one knows.
deep down inside ask…
the mystic.
the preacher.
the rabbi.
the philosopher.
the scientist.

pull them away from their
podiums and offices.
pull them away and bend
their ear.
make sure it is clear
that your question
is off the books.
ask…
Do you really know?
Do we really know?
Anything.

if they answer honestly
the answer will be no.
there is only belief.
belief in this being real.
this flickering light reel
of moving pictures we call reality.
studied as consciousness.

some can frame it.
many try to contain it.
but it is fleeting, escaping.
as we try to grasp it.
codify it.
turn it into right or wrong.
all we have is our song.
the notes we choose to add.

call me a realist.
call me a pessimist.
i know i do not know.
like Socrates i admit
my ignorance.
I see that as the beginning.

like the Tao i call
it the everything,
God,
the universe,
for lack of a
better word.

grab their ear.
stare deep into their eyes.
they will tell you it is your
life to live.
make it what you will.
give fully.
share painfully.
live heroically.
die trying.

Open Hand Covers Closed Fist

Om. The deep universal hum. Open eyed. Wide. Tattooed on backs. Etched on urns. Memorized character by character. Thought as a threat. Scrolls smuggled and burned. Hunted, for millennium. The awakened threaten all power.

Secrets kept in open breath. To inhale long. To exhale from tongue, through active mouth. Hot breath to warm hands. Cold breath to cool tea. Belly full. Centered inside you. The knowledge – guarded by stoic lives to see through, three eyes. To live The Way. The journey, we find each day. There are no coincidences. Open hand covers closed fist.

As the trail drifts from mountain top to village. River to stream. Soft and hard one team. Master word and staff. Master sword and craft. Practice for that one moment. To add ones breath to hum, when death comes. Open arms. Release breath. Om.

The Note

describe. describe. describe

paint a picture with your words.
never hide.
be brutally honest.
over share.
do not care.
make them blush.
make them think.
do not blink.

my eyes closed.
as i hold onto this note.
my last heart beat timed.
my last words.
DO NOT HIDE.

letters written before.
delivered to loved ones after
battle.
write one now.

i wish i was there.
i wish i could see you graduate.
i wish i could see you marry.
i wish i did not have to die.

describe. describe. describe.

the world with you is better.
you are all we lived for.
you are the upgrade the world needed.
you will grow up not seeing color.
not seeing race.
you will treat the environment
like you treat your body.
no garbage in.
no garbage out.
your mind is the future.
you will see what I only dreamed of.

i am whole because of you two.
total opposites.
you complete each other.

you taught me more
than any class could.

your mother and i
never quit thinking of you.

not now.
not ever.
wherever my energy goes.
I will be seeking you.
where i can help you view.

describe. describe. describe.
when i close my eyes, for good.
I WILL NOT HIDE.
i am half of you.
helping you.
as i close my eyes.

survive. survive. survive.

Farming Concsioussness

a deep sorrow
grows inside
the human heart
as it echoes
centuries of war.
of fighting for.
something we can
never achieve.

a liberty.
a justice.
a freedom.
a peace.

we seek together
to relieve the revenge
programmed deep
inside our DNA.

birthed in far away lands.
pyramids slaved out of
rock and sand
throughout the continents.

where our prophets were born.
where logic and algebra
were formed.
where stars were
observed and obeyed.

we worry together.
for we carry with us
a hunger that can not
be quenched.

a fever that can not
be wrenched
with any government
solution.

for the tribes are deeply divided.
as we once looked for the
internet to tweet our revolution

now we seek to hide
our internet connection.

knowing our IP address
is being recorded.

each transaction.
each wi-fi station.
each family relation.
each credit card verification.

we are enslaved to the
new pyramids
of data.

where we are all
locked inside the strata.
as servers farm
consciousness.

Dance with Alladin

The clouds are magic.
Painted desert smoke signals
signs of coming trouble.
Thunder blossoms outward.

Bombs dropped all around.
Schools.
Nurseries.
Hospitals.

There is nothing civil
about civil war.
There is no target
too holy or too sacred.

Children are brainwashed
for food and water.
Massive bombs strapped to chest.
Their enemies draped
in armor and bullet proof vests.

For the Arab Spring…
harvest time has come
to a neighborhood near you.
There is terror in all hearts
made real by hacking any side.
By funneling money into
hide explosives and small arms.
Birthing fighter jets.

As always, there never was a plan.
Sabers still rattling on both sides.
As war spreads like a cancer
through the cloud of data mines.

Bombs dropping all around.
Water supplies
Electrical grids
Food supplies hid

Tanks now surround
civilians who have given their
bodies for an idea.
For freedom they lived.

Memes are much harder to kill.
A generation of American
hipsters grow long beards.
Dressing like the enemy’s
whose minds our soldiers
sought to steal.

War will always paint the desert red.
A generation of Americans
soldiers fought and bled.
Now buying homes
in their suburban utopias
led to watch their children
dance in Minecraft worlds.
As the desert children
dance with dreams of Alladin.

Dragon’s Breath

We are all
in passing trains.
Date of birth.
Time of death.
Time stamped
on the tracks

As subway cars
zig-zag
through the
underground.
Feel the stale air
bellow debris
and sand like a
coming storm.

As the metal brakes
the ground,
squealing
through the round,
corners of our lives.

I look across the tracks
and see you once there.
What if we both
took another path?

Would we be enemies?
Never to talk again.
Holding grudges till the end.

Would we be friends?
Our kid’s in school together.
Sharing the same playground.

What if I never accused
anyone of wronging me?
What if I always believed
in positive intent?

Never taking things personal.
Never taking sides.
Never hiding
behind any false flag.

Could I wave to you?
Would you wave back?
Could we find each other
at peace as the next
train breathes its
dragon breath into
our lungs, again.

SAIL

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When I sail
I look for thee.
Through the fog
our flat bottom boat
drifts like a log.
Sailing through the sea.

Drifting to the West
to find new land.
A long, long time ago.
I dream of unknown heritage.
I dream of unknown ancestry.

Vikings
Inventors
Sword smiths
Boats
Warriors
Farmers

I dream of you in me
when I train this atrophied
body and mind.
I wonder how far my
blood line goes.
Where it started
no one knows.

My DNA is not a pedigree.
It is diversified mutt.
Americana melted pot.
No real known history.
Other than white male
southern settlers sailing
from Europe to feed.

Taking land that was
not theirs.
Killing natives.
Taking slaves.
Fighting.
Killing.
Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
Much like a Viking fleet.

European
Inventors
Missiles
Planes
Soldiers
Farmers

I am a strip mall viking.
Seizing happy meals.
No more need to kill.
I dream of the battle
to end all greed.
Sitting in my minivan.
I feed the next generation
of settlers.

We always take more than we need.

predator-drone-on-tarmac-aa17491e6633814e

Protect your Vitals

The NSA took my baby away
away from me.
away from me.

Late one night my son,
was in a chat room.
He used some keywords.
They arrived in black
punched him in the back.

Just the other day,
when leaving church
I told my son.
God sees all.
Even when you think
you are alone.

It is all recorded
for when you go home.
For the karma
you sew
comes back to you.

Lonely one night
he reached out.
He said it was
to feel something.

He googled around.
He didn’t know each
and every letter and sound
was being tracked.
A tap tap tap on the keys.
Was a track track to the
growing data cloud pack.

The NSA took my baby away.
They took him away
away from me.

Maybe better than the KKK.
They say, they have ALL our backs.
But still, my baby got taken away.

For googling around.
For chatting about hacking.
For sharing a slice of code.
He had no time for packing.
No bail was ever set.

Dear son,
Watch your lilly white back.
For the prisons are packed.
You are not prison hard
padded with soft sedentary lard.
Please protect your vitals
when you fall.

Learn to fall softly and how to roll.
Most importantly, protect
your spirit and soul
for it repairs all wounds.

The NSA took my baby away.
The NSA took my baby away.

Remember, the NSA guards
you today.
Even behind bars
watch what you say.

The NSA took my baby away.