“All grown-ups were once children... but only few of them remember it.” ~ Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
Childhood's magic once cast spells of wonder.
Wildwood berries turned to pirate's plunder.
That bright hummingbird, extraordinary,
in flight, became a wish-bestowing fairy.
Then, imagination made a carpet fly.
Men were heroes, never falling from the sky.
I miss that genie spell that lasts but twenty years.
I kiss childhood goodbye as it disappears.
Old age is neither curse nor choice,
but borrowed time to rejoice.
Friends we loved, lives we knew,
have slipped away—we all do.
We think of missteps, choices made,
of roads we took and paths we strayed.
We wonder what we might have done
had wisdom come when we were young.
Of old regrets, we make our peace—
repair what we can, or let them cease.
Too little time left to spare,
but still enough to love and share.
We’re the keepers of what has been,
the stories of friends and kin.
This treasure trove of memories amassed,
We are living archives of the past.
Docents of descent, we carry on
the tales of those who now are gone.
To those who follow, we must impart
the names, the stories, and the heart.
We do not whine about our age,
the years have written every page.
We have been tested, bent, and tried—
wisdom earned with time and pride.
Phlegm slithers down the sink
its slow descent towards the stink
Hands of mucus and hair reach
out like Hell's hellions to ensnare
the whimpering shade, pathetic
adorned with bloodied fists, raised
beating their faces in rhythms anthemic
A mirror is their sole spectator
A reflection is an unreliable narrator
that sees a God that punishes fear,
the pen that writes infinite narratives
Pain, the transformative element
is the absence of language
Its primeval elegance
i saw your smile, then fell from grace -
plunged like Icarus out of the lofty skies
and traded that innocuous, frigid space
for the beautiful muddle in your eyes.
i watched my clean slate begin to fade;
the homespun, pristine virtues turn to dust
and fully embraced the holy wreck we made
out of a placid, fragile trust.
because heaven is a mere patient cage
of tediously slow hymns and blinding white
in comparison to this colliding rage,
this enchanting freefall through the night.
if planting my feet firmly against your skin
means that paradise is forever lost to me,
then, by all means, let my sentencing begin...
for I will wear the wreckage quite happily.
He forged a throne from heaven's blaze,
Then gripped the flame—it slipped through praise.
Who trusts his head must understand:
To clench is to be crushed by your own hand.
Oh, no have I fallen into the
ones I despise the most
The vitriol and apathy
Those who were already there when I came
Those who I cannot seem to exile
Yet my constant need for notice
My constant need for clarity for
care, help, for solace, the basics
Oh, no have I been swallowed
By the insults and ignorance
So much I wouldn’t even be able to tell between
compliments and insults
Which is which I ask myself
The days still counting
I ask the void again
Which is which
Because it cannot be
That their intent is so stark
That a line draws itself
To a point where i cannot repel the malice
I cannot fight the mean
The loved ones, the ones
who’s image looks so normal
Mine looks delusional
Oh, no I see now
It’s no question
I have fallen
Oh, no
I can’t get up now can I
I can’t get up
Oh, no
After Course No. 172—
He finally learned to love.
Under the glare of the halogens,
Playing badminton with beloved,
He noticed—
The moon had sunk so very low,
Lower than anyone has ever fallen.
Let adrenaline fill my veins,
Prepare me for my descent
Descent into a visionary
Into a world of the greats
Let my blood pounce,
Pounce for success
As this mountain of despair
Holds a stone of hope.
Wrong..Doing things in error.'
Misguided, going on in wasted ways.'
Mark, a sign to be known by all.'
Carney really ticks, all the boxes.'
Suffering is not the gate barred—
it is the gate itself.
Confusion, despair—
not obstacles, but the steps of the stair.
Raja Yoga whispers the same truth:
the stages of progress are veiled in shadow
before they flower into light.
Depression is no malady—
it is catabasis, the sacred descent.
The husk must split.
The self must fall.
Only then does the new soul rise.
The weight of the world—
that is the door.
Darkness—
that is the friend.
It calls us: Surrender.
Surrender to the great unknowing,
to the void’s wide silence,
and there—
be remade.
Yet the well is bottomless.
Some wander long in its depths.
Some tire, or falter.
In that night, a hand extended
is grace itself.
I was given such a hand.
And so, even in descent,
radiance found me.
I have 33 reasons
Why I won’t go home.
I am a loyalist
Tortured by iniquity
Captive of antiquity
But the snake inside me
Is unfolding its fibers of cypress
And the water is thicker than blood
I have 33 reasons
Why I wont go home.
R-ising
U-p
B-rings
I-n
L-ife's
E-fforts,
N-ever
E-vading
H-igh
E-levation's
R-emarkable
R-isk,
E-ven
R-elentless
A-ttacks
©bfa051325
Monocrostic (Birthday of Rubilene Herrera)
Snowflakes gently drift
through a brooding sky-
snowmen and puddles.
The risen Christ appeared to them and told them all to wait
For the promise they had heard Him speak
The coming of the Advocate, the Spirit strong and great
To strengthen them, lifting up the weak.
They waited all together just as the Lord had said,
And suddenly they heard a mighty wind.
The Spirit came like tongues of flame, resting on each head
And they knew that their mission should begin.
They went out to the people, to preach, to teach the Word.
And everyone who listened was amazed.
Though all from different places, each their language heard,
As Peter and the Twelve cried out God’s praise.
“Repent,” did Peter say, “and be baptized, everyone
In the name of Christ who forgives sins.”
Repent and then believe for He is God’s only Son.
Let all creation cry out an amen!
Come Holy Spirit! Descend upon us!
Come Holy Spirit from above!
Come Holy Spirit, the truth in which we trust!
Come fill our hearts with your love!
God’s disc of bliss
descends through the crown
half measures will not do
so we choose to drown
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