‘i wonder if Love wears bedroom slippers in the evening’

one of the many things
difficult about writing a poem
about love is how alike
love poems look.

2nd person pronoun verb
article superlative
noun first person pronoun
adverb verb
, most likely.

i guess part of the problem
is that words on a ‘page’

be it in a book or browser tab

always look like words on a page.

and love, well
she’s a mover and a shaker.
not only does she rarely ‘look’
like love, it can often be difficult
to identify her at all.

i am changing a dirty diaper – chore
i am changing you, sweet girl,
so you don’t get a rash and because
you cannot yet do this for yourself – love

a miracle, i would say, that two things can be
one
but anyway, i’m digressing.

i want to write a poem
that shows the love i see
in you
and it is impossible.

maybe, darling, that’s because
how you love is impossible
beyond what should and should not be
as if mountains could also be
the roaring sea at the same time.

your love is a miracle
because it is who you are
it is your breath it is your skin
it is how you move, and so
you do not even realize,
i think
how powerfully you love.

anyway,

your love matters.

it matters to me,
it makes me better,
it is the kind of thing,
your love
that makes the world
well,
it is the kind of love that makes the world.

it gives me hope
everywhere else
that a love like yours
exists at all.

your love shakes the earth
with quiet steps.

i hear them
i feel them
thank you for being,

– yours.

a plea to people in charge

every once in a while,
i end up blankly staring at
the edge of whatever it is i’m doing
eyes open and unmoving. 

and i might wonder aloud
‘what are we doing, here’
and my eyes will narrow into a squint
and my shoulders might slightly sag  
and i’m likely to shake my head.

what can i do when 

a terrorist organization in a distant land

and

a police force in my home land

look too much the same?

if isis and the ferguson police force
stood next to each other on a summer evening
and all i could see were their shadows
it would take me a while to tell the difference.

* * * 

to isis,

stop, please.

you are behaving as cowards.

to the ferguson police force,

stop, please.

you are behaving as cowards.

someone needs to be the adult in the room.
someone – anyone – within the walls
where decisions are being made,
please

say ‘no more.’

others will listen. 

please, 

no more shows of force

no more pride and belligerence

whatever it is you’re fighting for

whatever the hell it is

ask yourself if this is really the way you want to earn it

whatever the hell it is. 

the world is watching

make good choices, 

joel

 

personally, i think thomas is a hero

i believe in 

Love, 

Hope,

Family,

Grace.

i believe i am nothing without them.

i believe they make me a better me.

i believe one of the greatest miracles of life and us, dear,

is a predisposition in *all* of us 

to hope,

to swing hard, to be bold in our hearts, to endure instead of surrender

because it means, i think, we are *meant* to hope, 

and if we are meant to hope,

(almost silly how simple, is it not?)

there is a reason to expect Hope be

Fulfilled.