Category: Poems from the book Barefoot in the Sanctuary

Step Off the Wheel

Humans judge actions
based on declared labels of
ideology,
forgetting
the inconsistency
of
humanity
in place of theoretical orthodoxy
of which
there is no one truth
nor perfect conformity,
so go easy
on thinking comparatively
if reality
strays
from the certitude of theory.

You cannot hear clearly
if your ears
were dirtied
by pre-judgment,
and you cannot see
when blinded by
superficiality.

The division into isms
ad nauseum
classifying the solutions
to our current situation
won’t provide liberation
from the merry go round
of problems we are facing.

Do what is just and right
regardless of tradition
and the judgment of origin.

Don’t get hung up on semantics
nor play into violent antics
for it merely stalls progress
into debates so endless.

Step off the wheel
of planned outcomes
and become open
to possibility.

Your desire for a better nation
must overpower your frustration
with visions of creation.

Poems from the book Barefoot in the Sanctuary Poetry

Mind Parachute

Those who flirt
with ideas
with minds unlocked
by conversations
both verbal and unspoken,
will break beyond the boxes
that bind us to brokenness.

Poems from the book Barefoot in the Sanctuary Poetry

Repetition

This year the veil was lifted.
The desert sands have shifted.

What was once underground
has surfaced and we have found
old wounds were left unhealed.

Secret letters were left unsealed.
Old problems swept under the rug,
while we sit here with a drinking jug.

It ain’t hard to draw some parallels
between our times
and previous generations’ Hell.

Poems from the book Barefoot in the Sanctuary Poetry

Humanity and History

Every generation has its geniuses.
Every age has its tragedies.
Every era is a reflection of humanity.
Every time births its heroes and villains.

The old are critical of the younger.
The young are inflamed with pride.
The young are looking up to ancestry.
The old stay hopeful for progressive progeny.

The endless cycles of our history,
begging us to learn to live free,
begging us to find ways to peace,
require age to become irrelevant,
as every voice and hand is needed,
for the call to action must be heeded,
working everyone together toward
the moments where we move forward.

Poems from the book Barefoot in the Sanctuary Poetry

Fear Lies, You Rise

You must cultivate a sense of pronoia
in this world so prone to paranoia.
No one can do it for ya.

Overanalyzing is a killjoy.
You got to let yourself feel joy.
Just love and don’t ask why, boy.

Turn on a smile.
Run right into the wild.
Let joy into your soul awhile.

Fear lies. You rise. Fear lies.
You rise. Fear lies. You rise.

In both hands you hold a fist.
Raise two fingers
and plant the trees of peace.

Poems from the book Barefoot in the Sanctuary Poetry

No End

The news reports the carelessness spread by humankind,
drunk on greed, so selfish and blind
as we destroy this planet with bombs and pollution.
We mustn’t fear for there is still time for solutions.

Don’t buy into the fear-mongering, the division,
the scapegoating, the violent rhetoric nor the mindless noise.
Instead focus on creating a better world for us all, girls, and boys.

I am staring at the rainbow in the hills,
thinking about God’s promise:

Never again will the whole world flood.

It may be a story book. It may be true.
No matter–it teaches what we must do.

Never again will God destroy what’s been birthed,
but it seems we humans don’t know what that’s worth,
when we continue to spill each other’s blood.

Unite this rainbow of humanity, respecting one another,
treating our neighbors as sisters and brothers.

We must evolve beyond hatred and violence,
and make a return to love, peace and common sense.

Take care of yourselves. Take care of your friends.
Each act of kindness ensures this world won’t end.

There is no end. There is only now.
We must follow the agenda of love somehow.

That is what is right. That is what is true.
We must be brave. Let nothing stop you.

Poems from the book Barefoot in the Sanctuary Poetry

What’ll Be Left, My Kin?

Rather than wandering across this great nation
with eyes envisioning her conservation
to preserve her beauty for the next generations,
we continue to spin our wheels in frustration
towards the lonely neon glow of her gas stations.

The stench of the roadside rises up to the heavens
as the traffic snakes in an endless procession
of single travelers returning from their vocations.

The solutions to the crisis are existing inventions,
yet we fail to enact them
in favor of the wallets of men left unmentioned,
who choose to rape and pillage all that Mother Earth has within.

We could build up a network of train stations,
enabling us all towards wondrous vacations
and ensuring others brand new occupations.

You’d be a fool here to travel by auto as the sun shines golden,
for you shall find yourself to traffic jams beholden.
Tell me, dear kin,
what kind of world are we molding?

Poems from the book Barefoot in the Sanctuary Poetry