Reinforcements

Bright lights

Booming bursts

A tingle in our legs

 from a good hurt.

Screams and Laughter

Hour after hour

No cares in the world,

At least not in our holiday tower.

I wake up wrenching,

Gasping, clawing.

The last choke of smoke

Enters my throat

And when my lungs contract

They’re shot back

My body under attack

Slam to the floor,

Eyes glazed and fogging,

Flailing wildly, noiselessly, voicelessly.

Groping my way every inch.

Every extended second

Feeling like my last.

But as I give in I don’t see my past, in a flash—no.

Time slows down,

I begin to drown, into nothing

Into darkness.

Losing all sensation,

Just as my only salvation

Lays two feet from my outstretched hand.

I’d lost.

Finally lost the battle against my body.

…

But the WAR was NOT over.

Because we’d been raised together in Dover!

Reinforcements were sent swift,

Only to lengthen my given gift.

As my eyes clear out the dark

And welcome in the light

I know who me reinforcement was that night.

God’s hands had moved and he had followed.

And for that I was not undone.

I asked weakly as my head still spun,

“What happened?”

…

“Thank You Brandon.”

A Part of the Power

Something powerful.

It really is.

The vibration.

The pulsing force.

And it consumes you.

It becomes you entire world.

Swirling around you in harmony with itself.

Making sense of all your fears.

All your doubts.

All you’ve thought life was about.

Loud and strong it shakes and quakes

Your body will unbreak!

It’s something powerful!

Something words will never say,

When you scream and your voice is only one in a million.

But you contribute.

You are a part.

A part of the power. 

Perhaps

If not God what else would there be?

A vast expanse of space?

A start without a starter?

An end without an ender?

Nothing and no one greater than beings who lie and kill and abuse?

A world full of rules that wrote themselves?

Or perhaps an author?

Perhaps someone to guide?

Perhaps something greater than our pride?

Perhaps an energy that pulls and pushes and loves and helps and joins and starts and ends.

Perhaps.

On Eagles' Wings

Tell her she’s beautiful.

Don’t ever let her forget it.

Tell him he’s valuable.

Help him understand it.

Show them their worth.

Never the opposite.

Lift them up on eagles’ wings.

Embellish in them confidence.

For when he brags, he’s lost it.

When she insults, it’s she who hurts.

Take them down to size?

They’re already so small.

It’s why he tries to look tall.

It’s why she laughs at them all.

Tell her she’s beautiful.

Tell him he’s valuable.

Insecurity is the enemy.

Not it’s abductee.

Give them assurance and sanctuary.

Love their being.

Let them ride on Eagles’ wings.

Soul Sailing

Soul searching is hard

Because I don’t know where to look.

The good thing is there

But it’s gone.

The right thing is right there

But wrong.

All I know is I needed that song.

The harmony chords,

To melt my heart swords into kind words.

But how’m I to know,

When to let things go,

Or accept the responsibility,

Forgo my wanted tranquility.

For my future’s assurance.

What we’ll do for steady hand on tomorrow.

We’ll take a seizure today.

We run and hide.

And then we die and tomorrow never arrived.

And we want tomorrow to give back its steady hand.

Because then we see reality.

Soul searching is hard

because I don’t know where to look.

Because reality combats conformity.

But conformity has a side-kick: prosperity.

And a sponsor: responsibility.

And sometimes it shape-shifts,

So conformity is reality,

Or they aren't so different.

It whispers in my ear.

It tries to pull me near.

And I like to know it all,

So I listen.

And what I hear,

Makes sense in that instance.

Soul searching is hard,

Because I don’t know where to look.

I think I’ll find it in a book.

But it’s not mine.

They say tough decisions have answers,

But do they?

Or will deciding drive you crazy?

I’m in the ocean screaming MAYDAY!

A few voices tell me which way.

But I stay.

Because both paths are stormed with waves.

And I won’t float down-current and waste my sail,

And I won’t sail up-current just to fail.

I’m tormented in the middle as I soul-sail.

The Choice

A ball floats gently in a vast space.

The creator cradles it in his hands,

Looks at its many blemishes of darkness,

With sadness painted on his face.

But right beside each blemish,

Is a brilliant light,

Shining bright white,

Up into the creator’s eye.

As the ball spins,

A bright light fades…to darkness.

But then a blemish…darkness for light it trades.

The creator goes down to the ball,

To stand among his creation.

Among love and among desperation,

Among peace and pain,

Pride and shame,

Good and I'll,

Yes all of the master’s will.

For without dark there is no light,

Just as without weakness,

We would not know might.

Just as the Creator never had to suffer and cry,

Watching darkness rise and his creation die.

But he chose to create life.

Chose to give the ball’s inhabitants a choice.

Freedom to follow his word and his voice,

Or to do what brings them pleasure but not what brings joy.

Now he’s always there,

Offering his hand.

He loves and He cares.

He has every answer,

And he’s willing to share,

With only people who ask and search.

And in them he delights,

And can do new works.

He makes different realities and different lives,

But he separates no one,

And draws no dividing lines.

Some created lives and join him above, as they leave below.

Those that loved and searched and found and now know.

That ball still spins round,

Dark battles light without a sound.

Every smile is a spark,

And every embrace brightening up the dark. 

What's Mine

Crumbling down

Without a sound

Falling sideways

Ripping through walls

Bursting through doors

Breaking down barriers

Screaming through tears.

Sprinting past time

Splintering through space

Rage on my face.

It slows

He knows.

I’m held

Lifted Up.

Set back down.

Rage starts to drown.

Floating underwater.

Breathing in what’s sought after.

And breathing it out.

Body weightless…lifeless.

Puppet strings draw me up,

Into the air.

Sparkling stars float there.

They drain from my heart,

Drain upstream.

I final try, a final scream.

Grasping back, my heart attacks.

Chest jots

Mind bolts

Just one more time.

Defeated and carried,

Fingernails grind the dirt.

Engines start.

Their eyes find me,

Shake me,

Change me,

Crush me.

Then from the other side,

They fly!

Chant to remind.

Come back to our kind!

But how this side has shined!

They circle me now,

Again teach me how.

How to move where I must,

Admit the old trust.

You’ll never know!

I just can’t go!

Wretched fingered reach,

Metal burning on my feet,

Screeching.

Still faces overhead.

Bodies, life shed.

Holes punched inside.

I collapse,

I finally cry.

I guess I knew.

And I flew.

Ragged and wrong.

My face shoved down strong.

To the black particles and yellow lines.

Watched the last light shine.

Maybe not someday,

But right now it’s what’s mine.

Fairytale

If things were simple,

Like what I see,

Every night, as I Dream.

If love had one answer

If we had curable cancer,

If she was strong and walked away,

To come back and then be here to stay.

If it were really cut and dry,

If there were one right way to drive.

If she were the only strange one in the room

If she always shined while the others loomed.

If loving true were the only love.

If I knew what was happening there above.

If my body had no say,

If I could look away.

If big talks never happened, and never needed to.

After saving a life I would always trust you.

If fighting were brave.

If thoughts were pure.

If we both had problems,

But had each others’ cure.

If friendship were there,

 And that was enough.

If kissing were too far,

Until the sequel, just a bluff.

If families were quirky instead of broken,

And siblings crazy,

Not estranged.

Feeling caged,

Being aged,

By left over problems from temporary solutions.

If hearts always cared,

Always stood by the scared.

If that were what it took,

To make my life like a book,

To finally make her look.

To know the reason

To find the way

To see the answer

To save the day.

To win the hearts

To stay true

To feel invincible

And only think of you.

If every problem had one answer,

And every man, a woman true.

Every life, a climax painted,

With the past re-forged anew.

Yes, if these dreams were somehow real,

We’d know exactly what to do.

Heart-Split

They leave me

As I step upon the plane.

It’s over,

And I won’t be back again, for a while.

It doesn't feel right,

And it doesn't feel fair.

That we loved enough,

To know our hearts we shared.

It hurts inside every time,

I think about the way

I spend every day

Throwing cares away

Acting like I’m here to stay.

I ache right now

Because all I think about, are those faces

Faces of people who share unforgettable memories…with me

Pushing you on a swing

Having fun translating

Teaching you how to read,

Feeling loved, and whole, and free.

Every moment magical

Every smile unforgettable,

Every interruption understandable,

Every tear-filled cry, unbearable.

Here is the moment

My heart splits in two.

Half with me,

And half right here with you.

I promise one day I’ll make it back,

To beautiful Peru.

I’ll lift you on my shoulders once again

Hear you call my name and it begins.

I’ll try to find some silence, but you’ll be there.

And I’ll give in and grab you because we both know I don’t care.

You’ll look up at me,

And I’ll look down at you,

And this time I’ll be the first

To whisper, Te Quiero.

The Mix

There’s no grandeur

Like striding up cement grades,

Of a humble house humbly laid.

Onto the open roof,

And the shining sun.

Wind blowing easy,

Hard day’s work done.

There’s nothing like the double rainbow,

As a black cloud comes,

A crack of thunder and a lightning show.

It mixes with a blinding white light,

Shooting strong against the dark,

Both beautiful and terrible to sight.

There’s no peace like sitting and glowering in the traveling light.

The feel of cool rain coming in delight.

Sheltered from its drops by a small tin roof’s might.

Listening to the exponential growth

Of small clangs and slow trickles.

Now forming puddles and streams,

Nature mixing, becoming, my dreams.

The leftover heat forging light tufts of steam.

There’s nothing more grounding

Than living there in that moment,

Knowing and needed nothing more,

Than the free breezing current.

Feeling small in the mountain’s shadow,

But being filled by the warm light’s glow.

Knowing freedom in the stray droplet’s embrace,

Letting go of fear as it rolls down my face.

Sensing pure simplicity in its taste.

Thoughts moving from synapse to synapse,

As slowly as the tear from my eye to my chin,

And mixes with that drop that I’ve kissed.

As nature and I begin to mix,

And separation ceases to exist.

Love is Mad

Love…is a crazy thing.

When life seems normal,

Free, and unconstrained,

Two pairs of eyes meet,

 Or two elbows bump,

And everything can change.

Forward 5 years

Those pairs of eyes stare together,

At strangely white walls,

A rolled-up wedding-gift rug,

And a beautiful baby boy who only know how to crawl.

A glance in her direction shows sparkling wet eyes.

She says she’s always hated goodbyes.

“Don’t give up,” he whispers delicately in her ear.

Picking up her cooing new source of hope,

“I won’t give up on us,” she replies, their time coming near.

He gives a gentleman’s bow, her a curtsy,

The waltz slowly and intimately

Through the kitchen (which is also the bedroom).

For an instant, it’s a marvelous ballroom.

They weave through boxes of old clothes

Left over furniture,

Their minds worlds away

From his latest job’s recent foreclosure.

Suddenly their thoughts snap off

And their thoughts back to reality.

Their lips meet softly,

And soon their tears follow.

Across the street,

A grandfather whistles joyfully,

Opening the car door for his wife.

As he pops in the other side,

He kisses her forehead,

A wrinkled mantle above face with lines of strife.

She doesn’t know what hope is,

“Hope is for those young-in kids.

I’m just trying to get by—heck!

You’re lucky I just don’t up and die.

There’s no point for me now,

So tell me why!

No. I don’t need you to cry.

Just park the car over there…

No, the other side!”

She’s living but barely alive.

It’s too much

Too much for her to try.

So the walk carefully inside.

The Doctor says she’s recovering quite well.

“Few more months you won’t able to tell.”

“Thanks to the merciful Lord!” he exclaims.

“Come on, let’s go,” She stutters as her hand reaches for her cane.

Down the hall,

A young woman sprints wildly toward an open door.

Bursts into the room and sees blood on the floor.

He assures her, “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

He talks but his weak voice struggles with every line.

The nurses take her aside, “He doesn't have much time.”

Falling to her knees,

Her mind races with the good times.

When he was on his knees,

And as he finished his speech,

He said, “Ember please, Will you marry me?

Because I don’t just want you now,

I want you forever and always,

Every morning for the rest of my life.

When I wake up and open my eyes,

It’s just your beautiful face I want to see by my side.”

Only two years later,

Her stomach is a little bigger.

He always wanted to be a father.

Now a river runs from her eyes,

But it started in her heart.

She sits by his bedside,

Holds his hand tight.

They talk about their kids,

And the house they’ll have in their long life

Together

Forever.

For a moment, it’s quiet.

And he breaks the silence,

“I’d grow old with you,

Always be your best friend.

Love you more each and every day,

Be right with you till the end.”

“I…know,” she barely can say.

“It’s…it’s going to be okay.”

He screams and sobs build and break.

Because his voice is getting too low,

And the beeps are getting too slow…

In a diner town the street,

A beautiful 21-year-old girl walks in with cold feet.

She’d been let down before,

So many times her heart had torn.

And what for?

“For a man who controls me,

Limits me,

Thinks he owns me,

And doesn't understand me?

And if it works out now, we’ll just end up old and unhappy.

--Love just hurts,

And leaves us so broken and insecure,

We keep going back for more.”

She turned to walk out.

She had seen enough broken relationships,

broken marriages, and broken hearts for a lifetime.

No sane person would walk back into pain,

Ignore the warning signs.

But then she caught his eyes.

As nervous and as scared as hers.

She knew there was bound to be a terrible end.

But as she walked back toward the empty seat,

She took each step to let love begin again.

The Most Precious Resource

Already gone,

My brothers, my sisters,

Who love me,

Whom I love.

When you think you have all the time in the world,

That’s when it hurts the most.

When you think you know when they’ll go,

And you find out they’re already gone.

People are the most precious resource in the world.

Completely exhaustible,

Almost never forgettable.

They entered my heart in a parade

Of flowered traditional dancers and gentle thoughtful movements.

But they were ripped from me

Like Huascar’s unborn child from the womb.

Such beauty and love they don’t even realize,

Means so much so me, as I walk away wiping my eyes.

They are simply who they are.

No masks, no charades, no facades,

Or poker faces playing strategic cards.

They opened right up to me,

Allowing my eyes and heart to see their realities.

They don’t know how much I love what I saw.

How I’m in awe,

That a family can love so much and hurt so little,

That despite is all, they can fall

Into a coexistence of joy,

That for the rest of us is a riddle.

Really I think I’ve let them down.

I will remember them forever,

But I’m just one of their SST whatevers.

Sure I’m part of the family—for two weeks.

Then I’m off with memories that will never be forgotten,

Leaving them with just a hat, a mix CD, and a chess set I’d boughten.

They are role models,

They are Christ figures,

They are light in the dark,

They are true lovers.

I hate goodbyes because I know they are important,

Because they are what you remember,

Until next time—if there is a next time.

If there’s not, goodbyes really are everything.

And in that moment, my everything fell to pieces.

And they are worth more than my everything all together.

Gracias, y Te Amo.

Celestino, Inés, Caleb, Abby, Lisi, Erik.

The Dúnadan

I wonder willingly

Through the minds

Of friends and neighbors,

Lovers and strangers,

Abusers and saviors.

Through lands unknown,

And the house I own.

I willingly wander

Because the world is a vast place of wonder.

Each shape with new curves,

Each man a master he serves,

Each child a bright future they deserve.

But each new place with a similar face,

Fitting into all the same molds,

How unique the people,

Though the pattern is old.

So much in those places to learn,

From the withering grandma,

And the stray piece of straw,

Floating delicately, deliberately, on the wind,

Twisting, maneuvering, in trend.

The trend of nature

The trend of Earth,

Found in every dancing glance

And every magical birth.

Not all those who wander are lost.

We choose by the wind to be tossed.

We know the grandeur in a playful smirk.

We know the beauty in the unnoticed dirt.

We wander to see and learn,

To love and slowly turn,

To soak in all the world,

And embrace each step with banners of wonder unfurled.

How It Seams

Too many broken souls
too many people with holes...in their hearts.
Some trying to start,
Some falling apart,
Because there's no hope left.
The old man's blind and half deaf,
The woman has one leg,
but instead of helping he buys a keg,
or maybe just a 12-pack,
Sits on the street with his buddies and tries to forget,
that night attack.
Where everything changed,
and people were maimed,
And police treated them like pieces in a game,
Senderista or not it was all the same.

And now on with life they sit torn,
begging for money and looking for porn,
(although they don't have to look far,
just head to the nearest billboard,
or the sign in the corner store)
Overlooked and forgotten are the downtrodden,

And who are you and who am I,
to play around with the disguise
that we can relate and we can help?
When we come from a country
where our biggest worry
is paying off
the unneeded things we already bought.

Here, sometimes life stands still,
and people just hope not to get killed,
just want to live another day,
not for themselves but for their family.
For their 8-year-old boy,
who will end up living the same cyclic life,
unless they work themselves to the bone all day,
come home and drink off the pain,
pull together enough soles to pay,
the school whose director has wifi.
Who hired college students to teach for free,
and gives parents a guarantee,
their kids will absolutely earn a degree.
While they pile studnets' hard work in a mess,
treat grades like the teachers' best guess,
forging progress with every impossibly hard test.
Just trying to relieve the educational stress,
but what they really relieve
is the chance of real success, the chance at a dream.

And here we are acting like a blessing,
when really we're just acquiescing
to a broken system of broken promises,
broken hearts and broken dreams.
Yes, that's how it seems,
when your actually in the seam.