Describing Color to a Person Born Blind

A lost connection I will never again receive

Is a lost ability I am only beginning to grieve.

Each sweet scent is a lost friend.

Each memory tied is a lost home.

A favorite body wash

A favorite soap

Are identifiers of the man I knew.

I lost those intricacies of my identity.

Now, the only person who can smell him is you.

Describing scent now

Is describing color to a person born blind.

Every luscious detail lands to my nose bland.

Touch and taste are experiences.

Sight and sound are familiarity.

Only scent is the final stroke

Painting familiarity into home.

Not the America I Grew Up In

ICE freezing the Constitution--

Murdering both natural-born and immigrant--

This war is hardly civil.

In our streets, peaceful protestors are gassed,

Declared dangerous for disagreeing and holding a sign.

This is not the America I grew up in.

7AM "With liberty and justice for all."

The words we'd declare and repeat every day at school.

The pledge we made to stand for and live by.

"I am fair, show care,

I am responsible, show respect,

I am trustworthy and a good citizen."

An elementary school pledge that I still stand by.

This pledge used to be elementary.

ICE out now!

Stop murdering our kids!

Stop murdering our families!

Stop murdering our brothers and sisters and siblings!

Plees I never imagined I'd need to scream!

I never learned this as civil in my high school Civics course!

If these make me radical--

If wanting equal rights

Due process

To live and let live

To not have to qualify for humanity 

And not live in fear makes me radical--

I will proudly wear that label.

This used to be the America I grew up in.

Through The Motions

Mind focused, but it's rarely so bland

Just going through the motions, tossing creativity in the sand.

Life As Story unread,

New projects spark dread,

Interest in music left dead,

Research curiosity hanging by a thread.

Connect with friends,

Connect with community,

It's only 9, but I just want to go to bed.