Take the Wheel

Turn up your palms

And face to the sky

When the rain pours down

And the clouds roll by,

So that, wet and cold,

You’ll know you’re alive.

Then, when the sky clears,

Set out on a drive.

Roll down your window,

Stick your hand outside,

Forget all your worries,

Let go of your pride.

Blast the radio

And sing along,

Even if it’s playing

A cheesy song.

Laugh out loud

And share the joke,

Let down your guard,

Release the yoke.

Open your heart,

Let her in,

And Life will reward you

With a winning grin.

Succumb to her charms—

Though short she might be,

She is full of grace

And natural beauty—

For she’s the one,

The one you couldn’t cheat,

So keep her close

In the passenger’s seat.

Vibe is Vibe

Hand on my waist

As you walk on by,

Smile on your face,

Twinkle in your eye,

Your words run on

When my mouth runs dry.

Questions you ask

And answers you find,

Glances you shoot

To read my mind--

The occasional silence

Our thoughts do bind.

You keep me safe

When side by side,

And give me strength,

Your arms open wide...

The rest doesn’t matter

‘Cause vibe is vibe.

Mile Run

My legs went numb

Half-way through,

And my body ran dry

As the sun blazed true.

My mind sprinted,

My legs kept their pace,

My spirit sank,

I turned red in the face.

The scene around me

Was all a blur,

Familiar, maybe,

But I was not sure.

Like a mouse on its wheel,

There was no end—

A vicious cycle continued

Around each bend.

Finally, I made it

Around the last time,

No feeling in my legs,

But my heart, sublime.

Catching my breath,

I took in the air,

Filled up my lungs,

Leaving none to spare.

A bottle of water

Removed my last sorrow,

Until Coach waved and said,

“See you tomorrow!”

Perfectionism is the Perfectionist's First Mistake

The sky strikes midnight.

Staring at the blank slate,

No thoughts to think,

No words to paint,

You sit, paralyzed.

The only sound is of

Your heart beating to

The ticking rain.

A crack in the window

Lets in the wind

And rouses

The panic within.

Where to begin when

I don’t know the end?

Which road to take,

If not the one taken?

Who do I want to be,

What image do

I want to portray?

What are the risks?

There’s no room for mistake.

Mistakes are wallowing inside

When the sun is bright,

Not tripping on the lawn

And scraping your knee.

Mistakes are guarding your heart

From unfavorable results,

Not risking love

And getting hurt.

Mistakes are sitting on the sidelines

And watching your team play,

Not playing your heart out

And losing the game.

Life is not a mistake.

So when the rain stops,

At the first sign of light,

Do me a favor and

Go fly your f**king kite.

But until then,

Before you say goodnight,

Pick up your pen and

Draw the first line

To take you one step closer

To the unknown end.

(Though, as we know, the end

Is also the beginning,

And the cuts and bruises

You earned along the way

Will help you win

The next time you play).

District Champ

There was always another, a hurdle,

And though I was a jumper, my blood would curdle

At the sight, seemingly impossible to overcome.

I would shut my eyes and see you at the finish line—

All I had to do was cross it and you would be mine.

But the jumps were high and my spirits low.

How many races I had lost before,

How many scrapes and muscles, sore—

Such were my pre-game thoughts.

I hated the pressure, I hated the game.

Trying my hardest it would all end the same.

I tried to think of it as a race against myself.

But it never is. Because she’s always there in the next lane.

Running her fastest, she seems numb to the pain

That burns deep through my limbs.

We had shaken hands, even exchanged names,

Then she’d psyched me out with her titles, claims.

Anxiety rising, I took a deep breath,

Then took my mark out on the track.

The gun went off with a loud crack

And I ran until we were neck and neck.

And then...I knew it. I knew I could win,

I just had to ignore the pain in my shin.

The second wind pushing me around the last bend,

I jumped the last hurdle and pulled in first,

Smiling at how I had feared the worst,

And crying at the touch of my prize...The End. 

Occupational Hazard

You gave me a halo to wear long ago,

In exchange for the soapbox I slipped under your feet.

I was comfortable, watching you speak,

Lost in the crowd, humble and meek.

My voice was lost in the surrounding throng,

As my senseless body was pushed along,

My sight, perverted by the daily show,

My gaze, averted by the shame of defeat.

And then, the sound that struck a chord,

The sound of silence across the board.

Looking up, beyond your eyes,

I saw the heavens and heard the cries

Of our sisters watching us down below,

Praying their mistakes we not repeat.

Feeling in my extremities regained,

I tore off the halo your ego had stained.

F**k the image you created of me,

Take back your shackles, I’m done, I’m free.

I’ll take back my soapbox from long ago,

And under my shadow you can have a seat.

When Pigs Can Fly

Northern lights in the south,

A cloud on the ground,

A rainbow with an end,

A pin dropping with a sound—

The hopeful musings

Of an almost hopeless soul

Weigh on the spirit

And take their toll

On the fragile frame

Keeping it all intact,

While the mind keeps searching

For what the heart has lacked.

Yet the spirit holds on

To the thinnest thread

And stays on the most

Trodden of paths to tread,

Deluded by the mirage

Of dreams, fulfilled,

Hopelessness, abated,

And the chance to build

An impregnable stronghold

From the broken glass,

In which fruitful are the trees

And barren is the past.

The torch is lit

And we carry it fast,

Fanning the fleeting flames

To make them last.

If the light burns out

And we are left in the dark,

We steady a rock

To light a new spark.

And on the dimly lit path

We continue to stumble

Along our blind quest,

yet our hopes do not crumble.

In the shadows, we discern

Where our predecessors lie,

But upon closer inspection

We let out a cry—

We see ourselves,

The ghosts of our past

Having been here before,

Caught in the net we had cast

While trying to catch our dream.

Startled we run on the familiar road,

Deaf to the warnings

We do not want to decode.

This time we will reach it,

The oasis we seek,

We will climb the mountain

To its shimmering peak.

This time the journey

Will have an end

And will not repeat itself

Around the next bend.

Patience is a virtue, indeed,

But how long must we wait

To reach the view

That will reveal us our fate?

How hard must our limbs work,

How far must we walk,

Until we see a pig fly

Instead of a hawk?

How many pennies spent,

How many chocolates bought,

Until we find the golden ticket

And receive our happy lot?

How many smiles shared,

How many gazes lost,

Until the reward

Surpasses the cost?

Questions unanswered

As life’s questions are,

We shoot past the moon

For the farthest star,

Hoping for the star to fall

To make our ponderings true,

That heart break simply forged the way

For love to follow through.

But, alas, our anxious aim

Fails to strike the mark,

And doubt makes a swift return

To join us in the dark.