Day 43 – Much to Say

Oh,
I don’t have
much to say
anymore.

You sortof reach a point
when you’ve said
thousands of things
and slowly they morph into
thousands of thoughts
that you watch glide by
like fish in the doctor’s office.

It’s not to say nothing matters;
but saying things just to get ears,
just to feel important,
just to build a following,
just to get your angst out-
that doesn’t matter.

Maybe you’ll sell a few coffee mugs.
Maybe even a book.

You could stand in front of a microphone
and feel
that you’ve earned it,
you could grab all eyes,
they could say your words
were the best words,
the greatest words they ever
shared on Instagram

but

words
on their own
have never
done

a single thing.

As someone who’s said
thousands of things,
I haven’t done
a whole lot.

So anymore,
I haven’t got
much to say.

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Day 15 – Kings

What do you do
when you are small
and the world is unfair?

What do you do
when you can’t stand up,
can’t prove it,
can’t speak out,

but can’t keep on
the same way anymore?

What do you do
when you’re right
but no one cares?

What do you do
when they’ll laugh if you quit
but keep spitting if you carry on?

Do you turn to stone?
Do you just go mad?

Do you write a poem
and call it a day?

Are we all going to die
like this
either way?

Or are some of us
really
born kings?

Year 2: Day 123 – Permission

Don’t ask me if they’re any good,
the words you pressed into my hand-
I can’t give you permission.

I can tell you if your package is presentable,
and in what manner it was received-
but will you still give lopsided gifts
with crooked bows
if I tell you they are?

A magazine can tell you if you’re lucrative,
and it might sing like heaven to hear it
or sting like hell-
but will you still work for free if they tell you
you’re not worth a cent?

Have you not earned the right to speak
by being alive and having something to say?
And if I tell you to write because I think you should
would you write what I wanted to hear?

You must give yourself permission
because the rest of the universe already has-

What flower hasn’t died for you to stand there wavering,
waiting for permission to timidly assert
that in some worlds it was red
and some worlds grey?

What English teacher has not at his core
some desire to give more than paper permission,
to raise up more than nervous doormats
vying for praise?

What injustice hasn’t gone on long enough
before you finally stand up
and call it what it is?

No one gives us permission for that-
you must permit yourself to be.
Only then will you have the courage
to keep on speaking
when the world won’t hear.

Year 2: Day 118 – The Walls That Keep Us All Out

Big hurt in the collective heart,
teach me to feel another’s pain.
Teach me to see beyond camouflage,
costumes, facades, and masks,
beyond the walls that keep us all out.

Big heart of our collective pain,
teach me not to add my own hurt.
Teach me to speak boldly but gently,
to listen with more than one ear,
to tug at the walls that keep us all out.

Big heartbreak of Your heart,
teach me to be broken like You.
Teach me to press on through the shadows,
shining a tiny light
through the cracks of the walls that keep us all out.

Year 2: Day 104 – Now Do You Believe?

Now do you believe
that we are never-ending,
that we can speak across the universe
in the language only we know?

When I had counted you gone
but could not feel right
without writing your name
on the first page,

and you had counted me gone
but could not feel right
without opening that book
to find your name

do you believe it’s been long enough
to prove us blood?

When I wrote though I knew
you weren’t reading,
but I couldn’t help myself

and you knew that I wasn’t
writing for you,
but you couldn’t help yourself

do you believe we are eternal,
long-lost brother, do you believe
in sibling souls, do you believe
we could’ve been found
any other way?