You were just water, but you felt like blood
You were the swells of a hundred year flood
You left and I was left covered in mud
The promise of springtime was nipped in the bud
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Flat
I blew a tire on the road to adventure
Now I’m stuck between there and home
The cars speeding past have got places to be
And I should not have struck out alone 
Small
I am a drop
In an ocean of voices
My words are a grain
On a beach full of sand
Each thought is a leaf
That is blown on the breeze
Yet I release truths
With the taps from my hand
I may be small
My voice may be faint
But this is my canvas
And words are my paint
I’ll keep on shouting
Into the abyss
In the hopes someone hears me
And finds what they miss
People – Gente – Oameni
Trilingual text: English, Italian and Romanian language
There are people who took the flowers in the arms only once
The last once…
.
There are people, who have not loved… not even the Love,
a kind of humility in boldness
.
People who have the only one shelter in the insults, in the curses,
forgetting its bitterness with the simple passage
over the threshold of the tavern
.
People who hide their illness
beyond from the most beautiful words
nobody, nobody committed suicide from too much compassion of others…
.
People totally invisible without care of opposites
of the poetic gesture of nature –
living in a feeling of great voluptuousness
.
People – nobody, more than seven billion
Nobody
photo by John Galbreath
C’è gente che colto i fiori tra le braccia una volta sola
l’ultima…
.
C’è gente che non ha amato neanche l’amore,
una sorta di umiltà…
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Help! I’ve fallen, and I can’t get up!
Most people who need help ask for it often, but it is rarely in the form of the words, “Can you please help me?” Though it would be clearer for everyone if this were the case, it is in no way an easy thing to say. Our society places great emphasis on independence and self-reliance. While this is not inherently a bad thing, it has the unfortunate side-effect of making people fear the (very human) need of assistance from others.
So often, a cry for help is disguised. It may appear as a whiny Facebook post. Sometimes it is a cryptic tweet. Occasionally, it is a text that just says, “Hey,” from a friend you haven’t talked to in a while or a message from a high school classmate who never really talked to you. Whatever the disguise, the message behind them is the same: “Please care enough to see through my mask and offer me some help.” The more we train ourselves to see through the veiled pain and act kindly in response, the fewer people have to suffer unseen and unheard. It hurts no one to offer a helping hand or a listening ear. Sometimes, even sincerely letting a person know that you want to help them is enough, even if there is nothing you can do.
So please, help me in my quest to help others. Recognize the different disguises and let people know you see the person in need behind the mask. And for goodness sake, ask someone for help if you need it!
Weight
I placed a brick on my mouth
A rock in my throat
A wall around my chest
A cannonball in each hand
Anvils tied to my feet
It takes this much weight
To keep from lashing out
From screaming
From hurling the abuse
Back in your face
I see what you do to him
Reunion
How did years pass
In near silence
Running from each other
Hurt here, pain there
Collecting harms
Let’s begin again
Come unarmed
Trim the bad
Let the good grow and flourish
Put the pain away
We can be each other’s joy once more
Things Change
You claimed me once
Three years ago
“That’s my girl”
You said
Funny how things change
You don’t look at me now
Future Time
“It’s time to move on”
She thought inside her head
“It’s time to stop observing”
She said
“It’s time to start making my own life more interesting
Than that of those around me.”
She stated
“It’s time to leave the past just where it lay!”
She proclaimed
“It’s time to jump headfirst into now!”
She yelled
“I’m coming for you, Future – be prepared.”
Corridor
She ran down the corridor, searching desperately.
“It isn’t yours anymore,” he said.
“Well it sure as hell isn’t yours!” she called back at him.
He sighed and turned around. She stopped in her tracks.
Without facing him, she whispered, “I can’t stop looking, even if it will never be mine.”
“I know.”
They stood there for a long while with their backs to each other. Her eyes continued to dance in every direction. His looked right through the solid wall.
“I wish you luck,” he said when the silence finally overwhelmed him. He stood there a while longer, waiting for a response.
She heard the click of the door closing behind him just as she was about to speak.
“I miss you,” she breathed.
