Happy

Happiness is subjectivity,
glass half-full
redemption
curving toward
greater complexities
denying oversimplification
for common ground, universal
chaos, chasing ghosts from
yesterday, seeking phantasms
of tomorrow. Your searching is futility.
Fruitless sorrow
haunts society.
Aimless gains are elusive.

Elusive are gains, aimless.
Society haunts sorrow.
Fruitless futility is searching your
tomorrow of phantasms--
seeking yesterday from
ghosts, chasing chaos,
universal ground
common for oversimplification
denying complexities-- greater
toward curving redemption, full.
Half-glass subjectivity is happiness.

Perfect Stranger

I'm a mystery
to myself incapable
of being someone else
I'm afraid of breaking
this mirror I've been
hiding behind

I put on warpaint
to hide all
my flaws and hope
the concealer works
inside out

I'm afraid you'll see
through the layers
of deceit and find
the stranger I've
left behind

The me you see
is a veneer covering
layers of guilt and
lies.

 I've made a sculpture
of myself.


encasing the real
me deep within this game
of hide and seek
reduces me to
a mirage

just when I catch
a glimmer of
myself
I watch for
your reaction.

Heart of a Woman--My first Blitz poem!

Heart of a Woman

I hung my head
I hung my heart
hearts and flowers
hearts and candy
candy coated
candy striper
stripes of a tiger
stripes can't lose
lose your shirt
lose the attitude
attitude of gratitude
attitude of winning
winning isn't everything
winning is everything
everything and nothing
everything is everything
everything and everywhere
everything I can hold
hold on
hold up
upsie-daisie
up for anything
anything you see
anything you touch
touch me
touch and see
see for yourself
see and say
Say What?
say something
something to do
something to wear
wear your heart on your sleeve
wear a smile
smile big
smile wide
wide load
wide window
window of the soul
window washer
washer and dryer
wash a load
load up
load of clothes
clothesline yourself
clothes make the man
Man, I feel like a woman
Man oh man
woman
Man

Blitz 1st try

Over my head
Over the moon
moon hanging low
moon gliding slow
slow through the night
slow bird soar
soar in time
soar vainly, brightly
brightly washing my eyes
brightly washing the earth
earth spins soft
earth between toes
toes curling
toes hiding in the sand
sand of time
sand of castles
castles in clouds
castles of books
books cherish me
books heal me
me, not you,
me, and me alone,
alone with my stars
alone in my heart
heart aching
heart about to burst
bursting balloons
bursting of love
love of self
love on a shelf
shelf holding lies
shelf

High Twitter, Good Mourning

I don't want to watch
your potential go up in flames. Don't
 want to see you rewrite your past, flip
your script,change your name. You
go by the middle name you used to hate.

I'm tired of watching your brain
go up in smoke. Bubbling nonsense through
someone's bong, on someone's couch.

I can't watch the deconstruction
of you. I created you too beautiful.

I put too much hope in you. Ascribed
too much meaning onto your successes

and failures. I see mine now.
Clear as day.I missed my window.

I pour my regret onto the page.

My body aches and I'm tired.
Tired of worrying more about your
life than you.

I'm tired of little birds
telling me what I already
know. The state of your

mind. You think you are
getting your head right.
I'm afraid you're getting
it all wrong.

Prove me wrong. Pretty
please. Do it for me.

"Happy" -Blackout Poem from Dr. King's "I Have a Dream Speech"

Join today in history
the greatest Freedom,
a great American shadow,
seared in the flames of withering justice,
the long night of captivity.
One hundred years later, life is crippled.
The lonely island of poverty is still
in corners of America.
In his own land, we've come to a
shameful condition.
Our nation's capital: the magnificent
were signing a promise all men would
be guaranteed--happiness.
It is obvious, America.
Instead of honoring funds, refuse
to believe in the great vaults.
So, riches demand security.
We also come to now.
This is the time to engage the luxury,
to take the drug, to make
real promises. To rise to justice.
To lift the quicksands to solid rock.
Make justice reality, for all children
would be fatal to the urgency of summer.
Legitimate discontent is invigorating.
Freedom, an end?
Those hopes will now rest; granted,
whirlwinds shake foundations, but the
warm threshold which leads into the palace,
our rightful place, must not satisfy
our thirst.
The cup of dignity, our creative soul,
today: Realize destiny is inextricably
bound to freedom.
We cannot walk alone.
We cannot turn back. The victim of unspeakable
horrors can never be satisfied; long bodies,
heavy with fatigue, cannot gain mobility.
We can, as our selfhood and dignity believes nothing.
I am not unmindful; fresh narrow quests
for freedom left you battered. The creative
suffering earned knowing, "Be Changed."
Wallow in the dream, rooted in this nation.
Live out the true meaning of freedom.
Dream of Glory.
Reveal all.
See it together.
Hope, with despair, transform into a beautiful symphony.
Work. Struggle. Stand up for freedom. Know,
One day,
This, too, shall pass.
A great hilltop, heightening, curvaceous.
Only that: Freedom.
Lookout. When we allow to speed up that day,
all children will sing:
"Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty we are free at last!