Category: Poetry

A ferocious wind whirrs, while in bed he turns, tosses and swerves,
Don Zachariah has moved up the ranks
and traded in his old sandals for new ones,
And remembers the times when he had just landed, with the hot humid air amplifying the sun,

Baking under the gaze of the jungle,
Wondering how he ended up there,
and where to go next.

Once a young monk in search of redemption,
Now a bit older, wiser; a bigger, heavier storm rages along, destroying the canoes and huts he helped to build.

And even though it’s a challenge, he’s been there before,
heavier winds of yesteryear’s past has
provided him experience to withstand any storm, inside and out.
The sun re-emerges, but the storm isn’t settled. He smiles at the challenge, though. – RSM

When people have asked me about my favorite place in the world

I usually, bougie-ly, would talk about another park downtown,

but upon further review, you see, with hindsight being 20/20

I feel pretty steady to say that I want my cremated remains – whenever this life is done –

to join the ‘Forever Wild’ woods I would walk through with my day-ones.

Familia and neighbors alike, we would high’k up and down the pathways

that were laid out beyond that first playground; down the long stairs

and up the dirt trails, we found a beautiful green oasis that no place else compares.

Nature with roots going back pre-colonial had welcomed me and the boys

with the freshest air I’ve ever inhaled; the birds and bugs drowned out the city’s noise

and nothing else mattered but the experience we shared.

So when (hopefully) I’m older than the average Danish cookie tin

(The one with your abuela’s sewing kit hidden inside) and my soul leaves this body of mine,

I’ll want my ashes spread in The Bronx – more specifically, amidst the trees in Seton Falls Park. – RSM

It’s what we humans do, although in vain –
power hungry, curious, we chase ‘God.’
Yearning to improve, we elevate, change,
we do more, see more, live more, go beyond.

Every day we work towards something
that resembles the next step up ahead
we dedicate ourselves to just one thing:
Endless progress that we all love and dread.

Onward and upward, I’m down for that, sure,
but ‘God’ is all things, including one’s peace.
Like water, most people need a lot more
tranquility, balance – restored, so please:

Make rest and self-love a priority,
Rest is ‘God’ too. Be your own royalty. – RSM

Each step brings about something new to sing about

What’s tied to my feet take me places, these boots don’t hold me down,

Just rambling, wandering, from A to B –

Being connected to the source looks confusing until you understand what it means to let it go and let it be. – RSM

Gradually, reality collapses into fallacies
The news has me like “I can’t believe this shít is happening”
I see all the calm shaking hands with the chaos
I’m a Star Boy on TheWeeknd but feel like a black hole on thDaysOff

“Just play on,” goes the same song since day Juan
I’ll never give up on my next ambition, even tho this world’s just a board game, played wrong –
The rules are never fully followed and the banker always wins, you see,
Balance is delicate, and predictability itself is to be increasingly bereaved
It’s “cool” to ‘live on the edge’ every now and then
But what happens when ‘the edge’ comes through to live on you? What have you achieved?

When, starry skies are polluted and sober minds get zooted, the duty of the day and good fun become diluted;
We have no clean example of an ideal way to live
So be your own role model and give ’em hell, kid. – RSM