Who Are You?


Have you ever looked into the unknown and swore you saw the past?

Were your eyes screaming “Déjà vu,” as the world ranked you in last?

Your knees, as did mine, did they bruise from being knocked down once more after the last time?

Let’s check this: How is your voice?

Lost from screaming or simply fading into everyone else’s life noise?

Did you write a battle cry or settle to live a mediocre life just in time to die?

What happened to your ideals?

Were you holding them in open, unsure hands when paid a visit from the one who steals?

Did you sell your dreams to the highest bidder?

Or instead did you sit back idly and let your unfinished work fictionally “simmer”?

Could you pick yourself up and find your inner fire?

Can I dare you to put one more match on your heart’s desire?

Would you say it is possible?

Could the unimaginable become attainable?

Really though, could myth meet mankind and thrive under the hand of the Divine?

Could you reach higher and climb the beanstalk to slay the liar?

Time is precious and warriors are few.

I’d risk my life for the good, but can I count on you?

Dragging one along to their own destiny isn’t an option in this life.

I’m sorry but I cannot always shield you from pain, anguish and strife.

With my hand over my heart I will promise you this:

When you finally connect to the conqueror within, there will be guaranteed a reclaiming wind.

Get high, stand on a box if that helps you.

Can’t you see there is so much in the atmosphere for us to do?

The impossible is bating us.

We cannot afford to lose our focus.

Are you in? Or should I count you out?

Begging to be immortal isn’t what each day is about.



The Curious Case of Hospitals


Hospitals are the only place on earth where the cries of a newly widowed woman sing harmony to the crying of a newborn. It truly twists my mind that one place can inhabit some many different circumstances. There is a man who is about to witness the birth of his first child. The car comes to an abrupt stop as he pulls up near the main door of the hospital. There is no time to waste, today is all about miracles. The doors seem as though they are miles away so he reprises his role All-State track star. He leans forward and runs to the finish. As he picks up speed he wipes warm tears from his eyes as he quickly spots a nurse. He politely yet frantically asks a nurse, "Which room is my wife, Nina Mirk in?" She smiles and calls out, "Room 207!" He smiles brightly with a sincere, "Thank you," as he takes off. He runs past the chairs in the hallway and looks for the room his wife is in. He will never forget today.
A brisk breeze moves her hair and causes her to look up. Some man is running down the hall. She wanted to thank the man for shaking her out of her daze by rushing past her. She couldn't remember how long ago she sat in that seat and started staring into space. Emmett was her everything. He loved her, gave her the gift of two handsome sons and he remained faithful to her for forty-eight years. This mass on his lung wasn't supposed to take him. Emmett promised to fight it and stay around but even he couldn't fight his own body. She was stunned. Emmett was asleep and the machines that gave him life started to beep. She woke up out of a nap and called for the doctor. Soon enough nurses filled the room and she was asked to step into the hallway to make room for more nurses. She stepped outside and lost all sense of pride. Tears fell and her chest tightened as she grasped for air. She will never forget today.
"My gorgeous son, Leo," he began, "I'm your daddy." Tears leaked out once more as he brought this wonderful creation to his chest. He never loved Nina or life more than in this moment.
"Mrs. Landers, I'm so sorry," began the doctor. She didn't need to hear anymore she just nodded and turned off her mind. Her body felt light like a paper doll. She became dizzy so with every ounce of strength she had she put her head against the wall. Tears cascaded down her aged and once happy face. "Emmett, I love you," she sobbed. She never felt more pain in her whole life than she felt in this moment.
Hospitals are a curious place. One can experience so many emotions and realities all within the confines of a few walls. Emmett went on to be with Jesus and Leo went on to be the light of his parents' lives.
That day in the hospital is celebrated every year in Leo's house.
That day in the hospital is always mourned in the Landers home.

Appliances Are Monsters


I like it when appliances break.
It scares me that with a “lifetime warranty” an appliance can outlive me. I have dreams and goals but I have so little time to fulfill them. That pile of metal over there needs only to perform trivial tasks on a day-to-day basis and yet we are allotted the same time span?
Remind me who makes these rules again.
I’m going to defy you Father Time. One of these days I’ll catch fire and rebel. Prepare yourself.
I find myself glaring at the oven. I know it isn’t alive but in my frustration I feel that it teases me. As I run past it periodically throughout the day trying to make it to my next errand that oven gloats,”We’re on the same timetable, don’t forget.”
I microwave most of my food now.
Microwaves seem like a more mild appliance. Like a drunk uncle that randomly writes you big checks. Sorry, tangent.
Anyway, the whole world is bursting with opportunity but I have only two hands to grasp ahold of what I want. I have small hands too. Gosh. Amid my clock ranting, my small hands and my frustration (coupled with that oven teasing me) I’m reminded that I have barely any time. As another day slips through my fingers I sit and wonder if I spent my time wisely. I search my brain for answers but I look at my watch because deep thinking cuts at my time. That appliance just
sits there and enjoys its life. It works only when it is forced to and it is rewarded with rest for the remaining 23.5 hours of the day. It never worries, it never has conflicting commitments. I envy that villain.
I deserve more time. “Lifetime warranty” is a terrible idea.
It all works out though because every time I need a new toaster I feel as though I laugh at the life of cheap appliances, for those things cannot be alive the day I am not. Those tiny monster machines with no real agenda finally have to admit that I deserve more time than them. As I throw the fried toaster away I see that I’m winning. I pull the trash can across the kitchen floor. I want the oven to witness this.
Every victory is sweet.
I’ll make the most of my time. I might use some of that time to sabotage my oven though.

Observations From O’Hare

Everyone is rushing, they have places to go. The seasoned bob and weave through the masses while the rookies look up wide-eyed in hopes to find their place. Hooked to their screens they work, I cannot judge them because as I write this I do the same. Men walk with chests puffed to bask in the success they wish to scream at onlookers through their manner. Women hold close to their belongings trying to stay on path. I admire the children and the way they follow; for the most part. I see a child beg for a souvenir and I see another lying fast asleep on their father’s shoulder. Looking, looking, looking. Coming and going. They each tell a story all their own. Perhaps they are going on their honeymoon, perhaps they are traveling to say their last goodbyes. I watch, again I continue to master the art of being a bystander. She walks quickly, maybe this is due to tardiness or maybe excitement. Her arms swing to and fro as she goes on. He walks calm and smooth. Judging by his backpack, he is going to, or coming from somewhere adventurous. I picture that man walking through trees and climbing mountains. I would be disappointed to hear that he simply went to visit his aunt. The next man comes by, he laughs with friends. I pretend that they are reminiscing an encounter with a drunk and foolish man on their travels. This is a memory that they will pull out of their minds at friendly gatherings for years to come. They will no doubt start the story telling with “do you remember that guy in Turkey?” Laughing will soon follow as they open that mind drawer. She rolls one small case. Alone she walks as she keeps a straight face. She resembles a foreigner maybe she is here to visit family. Maybe she is here to finish school. He looks like an educator. She looks like an anxious mother. He boasts the colors of our nation, he is a soldier. I want to thank him. The two sitting by me just met. The woman is blonde and speaks with an accent. She laughs with the man as they try to plug-in their phones. Is love starting here? I couldn’t tell you. They are headed to Vegas. He is here for love. She wants to experience life and he looks me in the eye as I type…oh how I hope these people are unaware that I am making them characters in my story. She is beautiful, in her heels she walks with confident steps. Grandpa. Athlete. Stewardess. Spring breaker. New guy in town. Playboy. The gang is all here. Lets go somewhere wonderful. All of you beautiful people, lets join hands and cross the ocean. Adventures await us.

London Skies

In this city I am invincible.

My neck might have a painful time because I look up so often but I hardly notice. The bitter wind burns my face but my smile is unaffected by my dropping body temperature.

Sounds, sounds, sounds.

The city never sleeps, and I realize this as I try to. I turn in my bed and look out the window, I’m here. My, this city has been calling to me for years now and I have finally answered. The city itself is intoxicating, I find myself swaying every way it tells me to. Overwhelming  joy is my addiction. Shuffling through the masses I am alone. But in my heart, I am surrounded by fellow neighbors, I belong here. The tube station is full and the platform is humming as my train to Paddington arrives. After a long day here I want to shower and sleep but the city beckons me to stay awake and keep it company, so I walk slower and look longer.

Soon enough I am at my hotel, I miss the streets already. As the water flows over my head I remember my day.

I stood in palace after palace. I marveled at some of the most glorious works of art. I literally walked in the footsteps of royalty. Hours were spent walking around Westminster Abbey. Here lies a Mover, here lies a Changer. How intriguing it was. The dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral took my words away from me. Soon enough I heard them being thrown into the Whispering Gallery. Oh the golden trims. Statues of him and her. Victor and King, their stone faces look past me and reminisce the accomplishments that made them worthy of their chiseled  immortality.

Music filled my heart and head as I walked along the places I have dreamed of. Over and over again I found myself singing in the rain…in the rain the pavement shines like silver, all the lights are misty in the river. 

Gardens full of plant life infused me with their energy. The snow fell and the rain appeared but the sun came back every time…here comes the sun….

I looked from above and enjoyed the majestic view that the people who fill my history books enjoyed. I stretched out my arms to my sides and tried to embrace the fullness of this city. How I wish I would’ve lived in their time.

My eyes begin to burn as the soap makes its way down my face. Wow, I must have really gotten lost in my mind’s journal of London.

It was in this place that my favorite author wrote. This is where he and his friends met to go over their works. Somehow I have found myself here, in the same place I have only dreamed of.

This is where my heart is alive and free.

It is as though my heart ran away from me and chose a home across the sea.