For The People

*I was reflective last night, thinking back on an uncertain piece I wrote about the worries and division about the current occupant’s inauguration. I decided to do this as a counter to that. Seeing Kamala Harris as the candidate I believe in after thorough vetting. The references here are mainly to things she’s said, things in her campaign, and the meaning of her name. There are a few other things referenced you may catch as well.*

Looking in the glass only brings despair.

A real resistance needs a call to arms,

Not through a show of force or thoughts and prayers,

But through the right leader with unique charms.

Only detachment can break division.

Unity is achieved through hope and joy.

We need courage, justice, and a vision,

To march onward rather than burn like Troy.

We have a chance to show who we all are,

To tell the world that we’re better than this.

We’re more than puppets of a paper tsar.

The road to victory is paved through bliss.

For the people, the lotus brings rebirth.

A path to heal is a fight that has worth.


*Another one that’s about 9-10 years old. A reflection about life and how the next life is really the important one, not this one.*


Life can be wonderful.

Life can be horrible.

Life varies due to choices we make,

Which lead into the paths that we take.

Some people live like their life never ends.

While others spend their last hours in bed.

Life may be wonderful.

Life may be horrible.

But what really matters,

Is our life after death.

The Big Dance

*creative writing poem, it was written in the middle of March Madness about March Madness, which is really the only time I ever watch  college basketball. It was 2010, I can’t completely remember the coach reference….*


Sixty-five teams join the dance in the fraay.

A traitor coach and freshman lead the way.

All the conferences send their elite teams.

The clock ticks down as the backboard glass gleams.

Basketballs bounce fast on the hardwood floors.

Winning on this court opens up new doors,

Where heroes are born and legends are paved,

Where lucky coaches find their jobs are saved,

Where mid-majors act as giant killers.

Where lucky shots end overtime thrillers.

The stage is set for the glorious road.

Sixty-five fight for what they feel they’re owed.

The big guns are blazing as the show starts.

The ballers go all out, playing with heart.



*An old creative writing prompt, so Mr. Gowan if you see this, this was from your class.  I found a lot of my old writings from the class.  A good amount of it is on here already but this was one I thought I lost that I really liked.  About wandering the streets and reflecting on the world…Some British slang is thrown in here as well… there are parts in quotations, I can’t remember at all where they are quoted from but I remember it being part of the prompt to use them.  So this is the original. Anything in quotations is not mine unless the words are in italics to express the character’s thoughts.*


“Upon a rain-slick, chilled asphalt street,

Particolored neon skimmers like wormy rainbows into corners.

Glutted with green and brown aluminum beer containers.”

He walks alone int he city slums, on the broken asphalt of the boulevard.

The wanderer looks around to see the masochists with their fags lit.

He turned at the corner onto the avenue in the district.

The red light was burning bright, with the hypocrites paying with their quids.

He looks at them in disgust, the Spitzers and the sinners.

He looks down at the torn newspapers soaked in the rainwater.

“The dull white newsprint absorbs the crying red light.”

He wishes it were good, but the words just say the same as what’s on the subway walls.

The taggers, the junkies, the toms, and the thieves.

He just doesn’t understand how things got this way.

He looks over to the alleyway to see the nutters tripping from the Charlie.

“Nearby, a railcar clackers across hissing stems of steel.”

He hears the noise and sees the beaten and bruised on the car.

He sees the sorry bloke choking up his claret.

This is just the aftermath of one missed payment to the boss.

He becomes scared as he makes his way back home.

He takes notice of all he’s seen so far, and starts to cry.

He’s normally strong but tonight is too much for him.

Peter can’t grasp the world he sees at the east end.

He bows his head and starts to wonder:

“How the politicians were taken in by what they sought to defeat.

How the hellish gangs took over the streets.

How the red light thrives in the view of the daylight,

How the junkies suffer out in plain sight.”

Alone in his thoughts as the sounds of the streets surround him.

“No footfall breaks the hissing cacophony;

No hand slides shut a window to close out the rain.”

He’s Alone, and the only one who seems to care.

He passes the broken church and the hypocrites who inhabit it.

He sees the funeral hearse drive the doctor who betrayed his religion.

He again wonders what this small world is coming to:

“How did it all come to this?

How did the world throw itself into such an abyss?”

He remembers a time when things weren’t so bad.

A time, when his own life wasn’t all he had.

After he left his past behind, this became his new life,

Stuck in a cardboard box in the side streets without even a wife.

He would cry himself to sleep that night.


Who You Are

* It’s about figuring out what you’re supposed to do with yourself, how you’re supposed to be, how you’re supposed to act, the way you go with your life, but at the same time, dealing with a lot on your own and dealing with everyone else’s ridiculous expectations and demands whenever they need to use you.*


Walking down a twisted and lonesome road.

The reflecting light shows the path to take.

It’s so obvious but your mind is slowed.

You always fret about which choice to make.

They cannot see the struggling inside.

They don’t see the weight slowly crushing you.

They don’t know anything your smile can hide.

You can mask it all with the things you do.

They’re ungrateful for all you do for them.

It’s expected that you can save the world.

In darkness you’re supposed to be the gem.

In the end it all leaves you lost and whirled.

No one ever told you it would be fair.

When it’s over, they’ll be the ones who care.

Black Night

* poem using the color black….over and over… *


The black night consumes the light of the sky.
Life is tarnished by the black of death.
Black darkness all around in foreboding fashion.
In our darkest hour, black takes control.
In our darkest hour, we lose to the black of death.
In our darkest hour, we fade to black.
Black seems to conquer us almost inevitably.
The black shadow of death takes us away to a new place.
Out of the black we enter the white.
We leave the darkness behind for the purity of a new life.
Out of the blackness we become lighted again.
We hold white life coated by black death, ‘till we are new again.

Time Ghazal

*A ghazal about using time*

Time moves as we stay the same.
No one owns the sands of time.

If you had the time to change the world.
Would you take advantage of the time?

If you could control time and stop the universe.
Would you take the reins and control the sands of time?

If you really had the time to lose.
Would you make the right choice with your time?

As time drifts on slowly and fades away.
Will you go after what you want in time?

Christmas Magic

*A Christmas poem….because Christmas is awesome.*

Christmas Magic

Snow is falling, the sleigh bells are ringing.
Children are laughing and playing outside.
They all wonder what Santa is bringing.
The joy and fun take us all for a ride.
The magic of Christmastime fills the air.
The innocent wishes overtake us.
Childish delight is expressed in a flare.
The general happiness is a plus.
Dreams of love and warmth fill our hearts with joy.
We wait, anticipating Christmas fun.
We all love our new abundance of toys,
The girls get their dolls, the boys get their guns.
Worldwide praise is given to God above.
The magic spreads harmony, peace, and love.


* A poem I wrote because a couple friends brought up why this issue keeps getting on everyone’s nerves.  It’s a message to the people who are afraid to be themselves….STOP CARING, JUST DO IT! *




Faces in a crowd,
They all seem the same to me.
Can’t see the unique.

It doesn’t seem right,
But to them it feels so good.
All the same faces.

No one acts alone.
They’re too scared to be themselves.
Shameless mimicry.

It controls the world,
The fear of being different.
What is the big deal?

Why can’t they stand up?
Why can’t they march out of line,
To their own drummers?

I don’t understand,
Why this fear controls many.
Doesn’t affect me.

Its not difficult,
To simply just be yourself.
Why is that so bad?

Why follow the crowd,
When the lone wolf path is there?
Pointless, stupid fears.

They need a new path.
The crowd’s a broken record.
Why repeat the trend?

Uniqueness defines,
Us for who we truly are.
Mortal perfections.

What defines unique,
When to be different is bad?
What’s acceptable?

Why do crowds control?
Individuals make them.
Why do they let them?

Uniqueness is good.
It should be embraced as such.
Fears prevent this though.

The demotic god,
The brainwashing media,
Instills ignorance.

People are so scared,
Of something special and good.
Life’s contradiction.

Perception matters.
Judgment terrifies the world.
The crowd is frozen.

The fear stops them cold.
But being unique is good.
Judgment paradox.

March to your own beat.
Step out of the drummer’s line.
Stop being afraid.

Spin a new record.
Break free from conformity.
Be your own person.

Faces in the crowd.
Separate from all the norms.
Let true selves be seen.

Stages of Life

* poem I wrote for my ap lit class as an alternative to the actual assignment.  About every stage of life from birth until death: a lot of haiku strung together. *

Stages of Life

Crawl into the light.
Open up your newborn eyes.
Grow into a life.

Experience life.
Learn from your environment.
Grow up over time.

Increase your burden.
New drama surrounds your life.
Grow through your troubles.

Be responsible.
Your life is altered by choice.
Grow through college life.

Live out all your dreams.
Define your life’s real purpose.
Grow through your choices.

Older, settled down.
Reflect on how life has been.
Grow into wisdom.

Retired and relaxed.
Realize your mortality.
Grow into new life.