12.10 First Fracture (poem)

After lightning struck your mind into a thousand and one fractured pieces,
You stood in front of that prismatic stained glass, pointed to the image of God,

And asked, “Who am I?”

12.06 On Writing (Poem)

I write to create space.
That’s all there is to it.
I take a piece of this, a piece of that, a piece of myself,
And I rearrange it to my liking,
Fixing the words like adjusting a picture frame
A little to the right, or a little to the left.

I write because the world happens too fast, or not fast enough,
And like a scientist, I put the most interesting parts
Inside a glass cage, and work it through an intricate maze.
I collect samples to put under a microscope
To watch the cells divide and grow, or die in vain.

I write because sometimes I overthink or I can’t think at all.
I need relief! I’m exhausted and I want to sleep!
I write to create space.
That’s all there is to it.

12.4 Gray Morality (Poem)

Gray Morality

“Nothing is black and white,” I say.
Good and evil. Right and Wrong. It’s all relative.
Morality is a social construct.

You laugh and say,
“One day you’ll be brave enough to take a stand
For what you believe in, and for what you know to be just and true.
And when they come for you,
There’ll be no switching sides in the name of relativism.”

One day you’ll have to choose.
Not between black or white,
But to run, or to fight.