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The 5 People Who Make Life Heaven

They listen when you need to talk Talk when you need to listen They know your darkness Let you know theirs Without judgement and expectation You can talk to them about how you see things They don't get angry or anxious when you disagree Trust you enough to say what they really think Read tweets and novels Never make you beg or grovel Won't allow it Remind you that you're better than that Lay some of their burden on you Let you behind their wall Feel welcome behind yours You feel each other with heart and mind Even if you don't explain yourself  They get you You get them These are the ones that make life worth living Make you love to be alive Reflect you to you Teach and learn Some days the lead singer Some days the band These are the ones You can count on one hand (c) Ron Kennedy 
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Spring to Mind

Photo by Mohamed Nohassi on Unsplash This morning I slow danced In secret With the sunrise There was nothing To prove Nothing To win or lose Nothing To hold on to Or let go We just danced Illicitly Guilt-free Forgot reality And any need to be Anything other Than present This morning I slow danced In secret With the sunrise.


Photo by  Gustavo Spindula  on  Unsplash Sometimes I check my neck to see if it’s still Half red, half dirty and half um Andrew, I’m still gonna need some Help with that Math We live in an era where Before you even speak an opinion You might be attacked For what you have Or don’t How you look What you might say How you act Who you love Where you live That you give a damn about facts That you empathize with those cast As villains in the common narrative Or even that you don’t naturally fall in line Being of your own mind Self-educated Self meditated Spiritually in moments sublime I lay on my back & count the stars listening to For Now Thinking on philosophies that rhyme Alone & feeling fine.

Poetry Tree

I saw no birds grieve No fallen leaves No branches on the ground None made a sound It wasn’t rotten It didn’t die in a storm Capitalism came In its progress form To take one of my last  Best refuges from me I may be the only one who noticed The death of my poetry tree.

Reasonable Words

Photo by  Brooke Cagle  on  Unsplash I married my small town There was no shotgun I had a way out & My youngest son was set When faced with a choice of flight & hoping to find you While hoping you would find me I chose love & sacrifice over poetry Truth is though poetry never left Never will leave Moves as I move But I may have sacrificed Any chance with you I was not afraid to risk All my coin on a pitch & toss Then write 10,000 words That makes a gain of loss I just couldn’t tell what was true You seemed to prefer your solitude Aside from that There was a need A weight that fell Upon some I love There was no providence coming Other than what these hands With what I had in my hands In my heart In my mind With my choice This is not to say no one cared It’s just that it’s ruggedly Individualist out here & the trickles Never get anything close to Raising our boats Some wo

Soft Power

Photo by  Marcis Berzins  on  Unsplash I bury my treasure in you Glory is for my A&R This is not platitude You are Me and I am too What I want is to feel Your neck on my neck again Hips to hips Lips to lips I dip, you dip, we dip & a gentle rocking motion A cold steel And a warm feel Long distance train ride From the Smokys to the west coast Stop in L.A. to see a Jeff Ross Roast Then on to the ocean A late summer breeze With a boy of summer who doesn’t leave Just waits for you in September Writes things down we want to remember Like when you were betrothed To the guy who rocked yachts Until I rocked his boat Your mother asked that I Not make you cry That I let our love die I said I’d try but My soul feels designed To make my case with your courtship In public places Wearing god’s many faces A chameleon of sorts A shapeshifter if you will A casual fan of sports A grifter who only borrows to add value

Weakness For Sweetness

Photo by  Valerie Sigamani  on  Unsplash She actually was from Venus Recently relocated to Mars She likes to criticize the gutter Hate on the stars Sexually she’s a tiger And I’m a few strokes over par Her best friends her security But she loves my avatar She’s a big Rob Thomas fan Likes that I’m a little unwell She forgive my insecurities As long as I’ve got stories to tell She’s a murderer, if looks could kill I’d show up to pay her bail I invited her into the twilight But love her enough To hold hands in hell

Starry Starry-Eyed Versoli

Photo by  Leon Rohrwild  on  Unsplash I’ve fallen and misplaced my wings Not saying I’m an angel Where I’m from They don’t call us such things I had a fondness for wires Now I can’t reach them I stood on the right I stood on the left Now I impeach them Disarm narratives Press paradigms Offer guided tours Of rabbit holes With rhymes Post partisan Contrite and seeking reunion I pray, meditate, worship and commune It’s February and I’m still waiting for June I can’t see any clouds in the sky But I can feel her beginning To reign in my art Another Joan of Arc Is not only possible She chose my place to stay On a quiet day I can feel your breath on my chest Warm naked caress Relieving stress Offering a new beginning Take it from someone Who knows how to lose This right here Feels like winning If you want to fly Too close to the sun I’ll share my broken wings If you’re going back to halos He

Breadcrumbs, Molasses, and Clandestine Classes

Photo by  The New York Public Library  on  Unsplash Last night I dreamed Frederick Douglass shared his bread When I taught him literacy As self-defense against charlatans he taught me truths and golden ones On his final test the only question read How can I be an abolitionist too? He told me to Walk this way Deconstruct Educate to elevate Raise consciousness Oppress no one To always and in all ways Do the good I know needs to be done Teach my sons Love my neighbors Play no favorites Breathe deep and have fun “Now come on, There’s work to be done”   I woke up alone in my space A man of limited means Fluent in dreams Preparing to play on teams Expecting my role To be a limited Low finance  Low visibility one Wait, I need to call my sons And if necessary holler Until Dascha Polanco Gets her whole damn dollar

Rainy Season

Photo by  Basheer  on  Unsplas Last night was a rainy night Two hours north of Georgia I fell asleep thinking back As I often do To the first time And the last time I was with you Remember when I asked “On a scale of 1 to 10…” We laughed Slept hard 7 A.M. Wake up call It all felt so borrowed Somewhat better Than I believed I deserved When you held me Like you were happy It was heaven When you let go And leaned back It was hell You said we would Tell our grand kids About each other So I’m writing it down In case I forget

On Thirst Traps and Hunger Games

  Photo by  Jonathan Petersson  on  Unsplash There is something about that space Where dreams are not yet realized And not yet lost I think it’s clear to all of us That won or lost Some things are worth Anything they cost Too often I’ve thought of myself As Hip Hop’s unrequited lover Bottom brother Same mother Different father Who while present Couldn’t be bothered Because of the strains His worldview had him under What separatism heralds Let hugs put asunder Oh Wonder Walls And wonder years San Mig Light and Lime Hold my tears I still feel her Though I’ve aged So many years since then I wish I had been man enough To be her friend Truth is I loved to see her happy But I couldn’t stand him Even though I knew It really wasn’t his fault Ah, it was all for the best I’m better For having passed that test Gained some angst With which to testify Strength to cry and laugh I need a Sylvia Pla