I Love the Rain

Whenever it rains, I feel so free
Like a bird, that I want to kiss the rain.

I see the rain washing away our quandaries
Quenching our sun baked soul.

While others rush for cover under eaves
I let the rain beat upon my head like a song

Last night the rain played a sleep song on our roof
It made me love the rain more.

I wish it will rain every Friday

To make pools on the sidewalks and we all sleep.

To Whom It May Concern

To whom it may concern:

The words stood long by his side

Like a watchdog at the entrance of memory
This is how he will be remembered.
When they say the last farewell.

He stood looking as if he was solidified
He remembered his dreams for his children
On the verge of difficulties where he saw death

Where he lived without life and faced terror

And danced through profound darkness.

Yet, before the sun set coldly that noon
One walked to his window and looked at him

You are not my father, my father is God in the sky
How odd, he thought, to be blessed with a cuff

But of course, he was blessed to know it now.

To whom it may concern:

The words stood long by his side

And he remembered the journey, the tight pants
The sea-lions barking, and he smiled at her

Who saw a doctor of misery in the father.

To my Ancestors

my silence salutes the tall Dreams

of the Dead who withdrew from here
to roam over fine mountains and
frighten hawks reshaping my dreams

sometime the sound and throbs of their breath
is a rage of blood in eons of anger with stones and axes
at times they come as Fumes of Smoke
on a Dark Noon to take me across rivers of Solitude

but I sometimes wonder if while tip-toeing

in the fog of foreign suits we have not lost sight

of the ancestors' humorous laughs

at the steps we place in the quicksand 

and call ourselves special names

sometimes I stroll around the roundabout of my memory
when carving affections for my dead soul
in unforgettable words like a master-butcher

who picks up the axe and dismembers parts of goat-meat

that tastes so good and says, tonight there will be another party
with champagnes in place of palm wine

I have grown sick of songs of sorrow
I want to cross the rivers of solitude
sing new songs of joy to celebrate the past and present
and sing and dance in gratitude for life at Home

but will my ancestors be accustomed to forgiving me
every day for the loss of my Soul
the Soul lost in the fog of foreign suits

What Is Your Fear About

Fear (fear of failure or perhaps fear of success) has been such a paralyzing factor in everybody's life and so we have to commit ourselves to change and overcome that challenge. We all have fears now and then, here-and-there. There are two passions that I have been drawn to pursue and I have been blessed with souls who have dedicated love and time to my efforts. The first is my love of poetry and my strong desire to use my poems to help people feel good about the lives we live. In the quest of celebrating life in my own way, I seek the wisdom of others, through poetry and through other artistic expressions...which led to the creation of this Friday Inspirations. In this pursuit, I've found that sometimes my role is quite simply to show up to let others know I too, I am human, I leapt, I lost, then licked it, woke up, jumped up and I lived to tell the tale of how I emerged victorious even when my head was bloody but unbowed. It's the little push I give to serve as inspiration to get others rolling again.

 An Easy Roll

 Sometimes when you're lost
and you start giving in to fear
All you really need to know
is yes, the road's still there

Sometimes when the engine's on
but wheels just don’t seem to spin
A touch is all it takes
to free you from the mess you're in

Sometimes when your vision's blocked
beyond the crests and turns
Reminders of your goal appear
and clarity returns

Yes, sometimes on this road called life
the easy role you play
Is giving hope by meeting
those who've yet to make their way

Just knowing those who traveled
who're alive to tell the tale
Makes possible the dream
you too can prosper and prevail!