Dearest love, I know your heart has ached and you’ve weathered storms alone. I see the way you shine your light, even when no one else would know. I love the way you stay so soft, and the way you bloom like a rose. Those stormy nights have only watered something deep that grows. No longer should you hide away, no longer letting worries stay. I see the parts that have lain dormant, a whisper of the soul. I know your strength and feel the power that courses through your bones. It’s time to claim and accept the parts that once felt unknown. So embrace the joy, the blessings, and life that are a gift to you each day. Sink sweetly into the pocket of peace that comes when you let yourself play. Each moment you have a choice to feed that which you wish to grow, so tell me love, will you choose less or something else unknown? Even when things seem unclear, the choice of faith is there. Trusting in a path unknown, a higher path is sown. Let your wings spread, feel the sunshine, celebrate the space! Even when the clouds arrive, keep that beautiful smile on your face. The depths you have travelled to, many would remain. But you have seen the dark space and turned it into light. Your devotion to being whole will always be what’s right.

So I’m a veteran now..
Help me open this
C & P exam notification.
Look at that,
a winner has been selected
for my mental health’s raffle.
Combat activity report card reads as follows:
2 deployments for me
&
93% on the subject of
American history.

I felt the ghosts
of our heroes
let their tears fall
over my shoulder,
because the heaviest pen in
the planet struggled to check the box that was applicable to me.

I’ve been feeling decently
until recently,
when I was notified,
that everything
that I try to hide
in the tombs of my psyche,
will be –
resurrected,
dissected,
&
placed under
a microscope.
Picture my ptsd..
As a protozoa in a petri dish,
just small enough that I will never
feel whole (fill hole)
unless I open up,
I will never heal my soul…

Or maybe a telescope,

for everytime I’ve
spaced
out.

There’s a dissonance
in the distance that
slightly resembles the terror that
holds my happiness hostage.
“Incoming,”
Incoming,
Incoming!

any alarm
& this action movie
shapeshifts
into the horror genre,

Michael Bay
transforms into
Stephen King.

“It” is
“The Pet Semetery”
Where
“Cujo”
Is buried,
alarms also make me feel like
Jon Coffee walking
“The Green Mile.”

The Doha Accord was signed on
29 Feb, 2020.

Despite this alleged “armistice,”
the mirage in the dark was the target of many armaments..

12 bombs…I think?

like scalping your enemy,
i’ve tried to sever
that memory from my head,
but try as I might,
it hangs on by a thread,
how could I ever forget
the bomb that knocked me out of my bed?

& the subsequent phone call
to my parents..
telling them how
f*cking scared I was.

Oh, the heartbreak harbored in their eyes,
for only a handful of times,
have they seen their son cry,
but anytime I heard
Incoming, incoming, incoming..
It was at least possible
I might die.

I genuflect to inspect
These 17 coins I have earned,
Jaded-
I helped pack the grave dirt of far to many urns.
The petri begins denting from the inside.

Still Sealed by the gravity
That re-wrote history:
the fat man who crashed
bockscar in
Nagasaki.

Or
the little boy birthed
from enola gay
in Hiroshima.

“Do alarms really bother you?”
“Yes, it’s my heart beat playing hide and seek,”
“Is it getting any better?”
“Not really,
Every time I try & get some sleep
I hear the floorboards creak,”
“Isn’t it just another noise?”

“No.

It’s every thought I’ve ever had against my life,
The Grim Reaper’s sychte felt so cold upon my cheek…”

Im thankful for all of the help
that I have seeked,
for the last 4.5 years
I have my good days &
bad days,
& I’m hopeful that
one day,
it will be
Just Another Noise.
But until then,
I hope you see everyone is different after they’ve deployed.

If beautiful was printed from a negative it would be the silhouette of a rose
Because roses are sculpted from the hands of immorality
Breathed from the marble no one saw as a flower
Every petal flaunts the gorgeous of galaxies
Positively Divine
The eyes of roses are ocean deep and sky blue
They see life the way we’re supposed to live
Balanced in duality, Life and Death
A marriage with as many anniversaries as time
The two need to become one so fear may bloom into confidence
A rose might be one of the few things to achieve perfection on earth the way its attraction reflects the heavens
The way it’s smile ages like the innocence of a child until its aroma becomes the wine from 35′
The way it freezes death into a Picasso Dali Esque piece of painted poetry
A rose understands the heartbeat of death and the silence of life in humility
That’s why they are used during and after life
Have you ever seen such grace command hell ?
Roses make the marble soft, the concrete cry, and anxiety strong
And that is why I say, “you remind me of a rose, an absolute rose.” (Daisy Buchanan)
You are and can be everything you want to achieve
p.s. it’s never too late to sculpt your rose…

This quote from The Great Gatsby has inspired me since my high school years. As a passionate admirer of flowers, particularly roses, I aspire to embody the metaphor of sculpting my rose from concrete. Life presents various challenges, and I have faced significant mental health hurdles along the way. However, this quote serves as a powerful reminder to embrace the strength that can emerge from pain and success. I am committed to personal growth and believe in my capacity to improve each day. That is what I wish to communicate in this poem and inspire others on their own journey.

Dear child, let go of your worries.
You’re here for a purpose, I’m sure you know.
Though this world is large and you may be small,
You are connected to the source and the life force of all.

Dear child, open your eyes.
Though things seem strange, there’s room for surprise.
Each new day you wake holds potential for greatness,
A seed you can water and watch grow with awareness.

Dear child, remember your worth.
You were created for a reason.
The Divine orchestrated your birth.
Your soul is unique, with its own melody,
Brought here to find others and make new harmony.

Dear child, you are peace and love and grace.
It’s time for you to recall, see it shine from your face.
The purity you were born with can be returned to.
All that is meant will surely find you.

Dear child, don’t fret or fear.
Guidance and help are always near.
Follow the wisdom, the deep inner knowing.
This faith in the Divine keeps you ever flowing.

So my dearest child, breathe deeply.
Relax your being fully.
You have many gifts, they’re yours to keep.

I find myself in a peaceful state
More oftentimes than not
This truth was not always so
Often wrapped up in my thoughts
Until I chose to make a shift, realizing
My life won’t wait
This world I experience is a reflection of what I choose to create
I feel this peace in my daily rhythm
My connection to the source
Where once I was lost in a schism
I now find faith in that unseen force
Love, ease and grace encompass me
And teach me to embrace
Life’s ebb and flow and still I grow
Each moment an open space

So where is it I find this peace?
It is held within the trees
The wind I feel upon my soft skin
And the golden sun is a great place to begin
The stillness of a moment of breath
Brings me to an even greater depth
I find these moments everywhere
Because I know my source is there

I feel complete gratitude and know this fact to be true
The holy source that lights this life
Begins with me and you
The beauty of a snowy day, patterns made in ice
Learning to revere all the turning seasons
Each holding an important lesson
Growth, patience, perspective, Enduring reasons
Each holding their own blessings

My prayer today is to share that peace with each being I get to meet
So I’ll strive to be the light inside that I so dearly wish to see.

The coo of a dove,
gently wakes me from my slumber,
I dreamt of laying near a babbling brook,
accompanied by a good book,
hoping the right direction is hidden somewhere in these pages.
The morning light,
lightly lifted my eye lids
asking me:
“Hey, are u ready to start the day?”
A day where the only demands needing to be met,
are that of being a good father .
That sounds like so much fun!
We can build a fort,
we can go to the park and run.
Then I remember the problems
I tried to pin inbetween
prelude and the exodus,
they started to seep out of the page.
My son’s laughter met my anxiety outside and said
“not today!”
What it did allow-
was a welcoming thought,
for me to be a kid again.
Watching him live his life with so much joy,
Made me realize that
I needed to heal my inner boy.

The current cacophony
currently singing through water,
opened the valves of my heart so my younger self and my son can play together.

“A Dream by the River.”

The Sunlight was very jealous of our smiles,
The Breeze stopped for a second
to enjoy our laughter,
The Grass welcomed the
weight of our weightlesness,
It felt our heartbeat with every step,
then we layed down and became blades of grass ourselves.
My son safely nestled next to me and we dozed off…

I invented a new season for life because I got tired of the winter spring summer fall pattern
My paisley doesn’t like to conform to the depression of polka dots only on the pocket square and not the entire outfit
Where’s the art in the plain white t?
I see the aesthetic, but I want the screaming art to argue with my calm voice
It’s the beauty in the pain that you can’t see until the scars have enough time to grow wings
I used to feel most at peace listening to music on my bed as a haunting sleep would close my eyes
I used to feel most at peace under the dim lights of cinema pumping hope into my veins where I had blood run free
I used to feel most at peace on the solidarity of solo ventures between the court and I
It would hum deathly echoes like lullaby’s to my heart
This trinity became my medical addiction as pride got in the way of God
Then over the years my coffee finally became cold, and I missed the warmth of summer
I could smell my own toxicity deeply rooted and swallowing my faith
So, I questioned myself through the tears, I marked the points of pain with my pen, and dug up the weeds I planted and reaped
This time I will sow truth within the uncomfortable moments
Because in this season until forever I’m most at peace on the grounds of the earthquake
Knowing that I can’t move forward unless I shake things up
Staying in a comfortable pattern only leads to a broken record repeating the line you hate to hear
You are meant to break records
p.s. peace is born in the growth of pain…

I’m currently 13 and the only thing that makes sense is sadness
So, to cope I like to hear melodies caress my ears because I’m too damaged to hug myself
Then I’ll let my pen tell stories of love and horror for the simple fact that I’m afraid to love myself away from depression
I get the impression that an early death is the only way to escape to peace
But I’m afraid so for the time being I’ll clean my room since I can’t find the energy to organize my life
I just found an extra cassette tape in my music collection next to the pile of CD’s and Records
Complementing the art hanging on the wall adjacent to my mood
I think to myself: curiosity let’s have a conversation where you tell me all the secrets Victoria victories made me hate
The tape starts with no words
The opening scene let’s nature sing before the score interrupts
Then some old guy starts speaking about life like he knows me, I’m in no mood for a lecture but I have time today
After all I was just thinking about ending it all, how could this hurt more
He says: There’s a wealth beyond financial peace within the things we blink past every 24 hours
Try not to take for granted the natural order of life around you
I know the stress will have you crying rivers on the inside that you never let water your cheeks
But you need to face your fears, or the dam will explode
You need to Yoga flex your way through the challenges less flexibility become a weakness
Not your strength; muscles are for show, but the morality of your core can lift you past anything if you water your flowers of dread
“Be like water my friend,” and if I’m being bru-tal-ly honest you lie to yourself too much
Fright has kept you in third place longer than you should have been
Unable to reach the heights you are meant for
Remember the natural order of things, but know a long list keeps your further from progress than small steps of truth
You’re 34 now and just entering your prime
The next decade will be the soundtrack to the whole of your life
The season from the age of 13-32 was just a small slice
My teenage brain begins to become bored and 34 is forever away
And right before I was about to stop the tape he said something that made me think, maybe he knows a little something:
“You are the most coveted rose”… you see I love the floral print of life
And this statement was the first time outside of my parents that I felt worthy
He then went on to say
You’re beautiful in full bloom but still walk like a sunflower with its head down
It’s ok to be a lazy daisy sometimes but remember the sun never stops smiling and the moon never stops dreaming
So, neither should you
Your tulip words are meant to be heard by the world
And one day they will, as sure as a daffodil
Will blow it’s horn of victory past everything that has held you back
Just keep fighting and I promise you will win
p.s. don’t be afraid to cry…

What do I love about this part of my life?
I wonder aloud to myself.
I seem to get caught up in the riptide of the ever quickening current of life and sometimes forget that when I ride the waves rather than resisting, I end up exerting much less extra energy and receiving much more than when my attention is caught up, too.
I do love that I can put this sensation into words, something that creates something from what was once abstract.
I love that I can pause and take just 3 breaths, and remember the gift that alone is.
I love that in this moment in my life, I am able to meet the triggers and challenges I face like an old friend who is just in need of a parcel of love, not to be turned away with vengeance.
I love that I am choosing me, no matter what, in a selfishly selfless way.
Who can pour from what’s empty?
I love that I am discovering what confidence means to me, and also for my ability to give grace, especially to myself, when that confidence I discover falters, even just momentarily.
I love that I can remind myself of all the reasons I have to be confident, and for all the gratitude that I feel for the awareness I’ve cultivated of this, as this practice has at times felt as unnatural as I imagine eating soup on the moon would feel.
I love that I am meeting myself deeper and with more love than I’ve known from myself ever, and for that I rejoice as I know it will be multiplied outwards.
I love that trying new things lights me up with excitement instead of cowering in fear.
I love that I use strength with my voice, no longer one to be bulldozed with others’ words.
I love that my once thorny boundaries have turned to beautiful vines, soft yet strong, ever enduring with elegance and ease.
I love that this chapter of my life has brought me a love of life – once a place that was a barren landscape of nothingness – now a fertile garden bursting with new life and the potential of growth beyond all imagination.

You told me not to leave
More times than I could count
Confused young kids
Having kids
Not knowing what was what

Well one day I finally remembered
I’m worth
All the love and more
And that endless love
It starts within
And flows forevermore

The journey has not been easy
Rocky from the start
But I’ve grown stronger and wiser
And all these lessons fill my heart

I’ve had poison aimed straight to my soul
From your words and energy
But despite your lies and anger
I never will grow cold

Because if this darkness that I must face most days
The light I have within my soul
Re-illuminates me always.

Hello my friend
May I share with you my perfect day?
I hope you’ll stay until the very end.
First I wake with the golden sun, grateful and joyful – I pray.
Hydrate and fill this vessel with fuel
Moving and stretching keeps my emotions cool
Giving thanks for each moment I’m given
This life flows with grace like a ribbon
My love then goes freely to all of Gods creatures
The large and small – all have different features
Life sweet like the slow drip of honey straight from the comb
I never rush, worry or stress because I know in my heart, I am always home.