I was thinking about our ancestors. All of them. The cultures and the sacrifices made for the good of the next to come. And who we are now. What we will leave behind. My dreams Turned into fiery butterflies Colorful pin points of light Dancing free among stars Until a strong wind came And blew…
At the time it seemed I was stuck inside an hourglass Big chunks of stone Surrounded me on every side I could barely move And when I did… it took forever So much strength was needed And I felt so weak… so small But time kept sifting through And I kept climbing over Shifting landscapes…
I feel the glass under my feet Sharp and cutting deeper With every step forward I take I feel the sticky cling to my soul And the burn begin to compete With all the lies I once believed Move over sweet grim reaper I’m not losing myself just yet I refuse to bleed out Over…
I cry tears That never make it to the ground Into me they fell Weightless acidity They swallow my sensitivity Filling my insides to the brim They turn the air around me Breathless And absorb whatever time it is Magnifying my numerous regrets With clear and honest luminosity Heaving over sobs like a xylophone Accumulating…
The blurry streaks Of silver white Scraped along My tender sigh I knelt to pray But lost my way And fell flat And prone And heartbroken Under the scrutiny Of the light of day
I feel the whole world sometimes as it spins in my soul connected to them, to you, to us meeting the old, the new, the yet searching every story told for truth folding all the wisdom into hope
I first met Micheal Jason Allen when my daughter and I signed up to be extras on a movie set. My best friend Yousef Kazemi wrote and was directing a movie called The Stand-in. Follow its progress here. He was a well-dressed man (because we were in the wedding party) with a bowtie and a…
The shadows dance On the brick wall Above me Like dark flames Licking At mortared lines The streets leap to life As car horns play tag With a million voices An orchestra of night Playing a new tune While I make a place To lay my weary head In this alleyway I’ve learned to call…
Please help me welcome Stephanie Musarra to #BeReal as she shares with us her experience with homelessness. It is easy to make assumptions about someone who is homeless because let’s face it… many of us have never been there. We tend to believe this is a problem we will never be faced with. But I…
Maybe the notes Flow through veins Catapult memories From snapshots To movie streams Maybe the notes Harmonize With your breath Reconcile With your thoughts Or maybe they just Keep you alive Until you find Someone who Understands And hears them The same as you
HASTYWORDS 