Haikus Vol. 4

A single leaf leans

forward, out from the main branch –

it leans toward the sun. – RSM

A ladybug runs

around the tip of my cup,

changing its direction. – RSM

Brightness prevails on

the highway’s grand horizon.

all hues stripe the sky. – RSM

Fatigue is the weight

of heavy experience.

Rest. Lighten the load. – RSM

Consciousness surfing

is the way we all traverse

life’s chaotic waters. – RSM

I get just enough

sleep that ‘one more episode’

is barely worth it. – RSM

The body protests

the mind with fatigue; the mind

answers back with guilt. – RSM

Silence is the world

reminding us to listen

to our deepest thoughts. – RSM

Looking Forward

I look forward to being a morning person, reminding you of the time, and making breakfast,
while you sleep through your alarm clock.

I can’t wait to cook with you, clean with you, run errands, watch our shows, go on walks, have long talks over dinner, and make more routines with you.

I can see ahead, we’ll be pushing each other to be our best selves, having tough conversations, taking on new adventures to new places, both close by and far away, packing our love for each other wherever we go.

Every time the moon rises I look forward to our next day, because when the sun rises I get to be a morning person again, and be your sunshine when you wipe the sleep from your eyes.

Each day together has been a gift, and with every sunrise I look forward to being blessed again with your love. – RSM

Keyboard Rapper Vol. 8

Sometimes I kinda wish planes had a dancefloor
In the back near the bathrooms and the backdoor
But until then, I just make my feet tap more, four beats at a time on the sad, plaid floor-

My words get so aerial in transit, see,
That they dance around the cabin from my mind to your screen
And it’s worth the long waits and the Airplane Modes
cuz my creative nodes still spark like lightning bolts

I just key it all in like a morse code specialist
Just a written rhymer dropping thought bombs – heavy shit
Punch lines hitting like some wild dank Cali shit
Headphones on, so the pilot can’t tell me shit
-RSM

All Along The Bronxwood Tower

The hill slopes down from Bussing Ave to the east-
There’s no view more true than the sunset hue
shining over the tall buildings of Edenwald over yonder,
Go upstairs, look north, and you can see way beyond Yonkers,
The west has the trains and the river and the cemetery, and highways that swerve across 233rd.

Looking downtown, of course, you can see as far deep
as Manhattan, and even parts of Brooklyn and Queens,
planes landing at LaGuardia; from the Long Island Sound to parts of New Jersey, and every bridge in between.

In the city that never sleeps I grew up looking out into a dreamscape – but the real heart and soul are all the people I know
from the time I was a toddler ’til ‘today-years- old.’

We played baseball with neighborhood kids until dark,
It was a long, steep trek up East 233rd Street
but our feet would never tire
as we beat the pavement along the hum of the glide of other cars’ tires
and when we got home, ‘home’ meant the whole building,
A small town stretching toward the sky, all sharing the same high ceiling.

Our backyard was the playground on the side, we reimagined the space into a baseball diamond,
A basketball and/or dodgeball court, a football field, our collective mind was real.
Every single day in the summer was ‘We outside!!’

Family, friends and neighbors, we’ve always been the same – all intertwined;
All along the Bronxwood Tower, a vertical village with a view so grand –
A tristate panorama that makes Manhattan skyscraper perspectives look pretty damn bland.

I come back at least once a year to see my family,
a pilgrimage I make no matter where else I plan to be.
Seeing my folk from across all 12 floors, it makes me glad to have the cards that life handed me. – RSM

The S On My Chest

Something so soldered, spraypainted so sharply,
Spiraling, snaking, set squarely, centered near my heartbeat,
It’s a hot brand, scarred so deep,
a neverending feeling that I’m somehow letting someone down, even in my sleep.
Be it me, or the world, or the people in between, that one unchecked box on my to-do list locks me in.
Perfection is a religion with no salvation, and an infinite way to feel guilt and commit sins.
It’s a lose-lose when the bar is so high
that I inexplicably expect to take off and fly
to reach goals so lofty, grandiosely ambitious,
and when I fall short I blame my lack of wings
instead of realizing I may be taking on too many things.
We praise hard work and precision
to a point where a day without ‘being productive’ is regarded as a bad decision,
A lazy waste of time that lacks drive and vision.
So on my chest shines the red ‘S’ that the ubermensch-turned-comic book hero has long worn,
adorned, on my skin,
indoctrinated since childhood
to overachieve or die trying, either master the universe or regret being born.
The only kryptonite I have is my own scorn. -RSM

Visions, Vol. 2

Lava lamp liquid levitates between the two orbs
of a prism-colored galaxy, floating through the void.
A rainbow-metallic satellite shakes with heavy bass, like a pastel, neon equalizer, coasting through outerspace.

It’s a space brother dance party, the best club on Orion’s belt,
The Pleiades’ #1 DJ making their impression felt,
the oxygenless sky is filled with good vibes,
acrobatic pop-and-lockers battle with their minds-

headspinning on the ceiling,
telekenetic routines give the crowds good feelings,
Mute-spitters send punchlines through telepathic double meanings,
Party goers smell the music, get caught in a daze,
The drums make the floor shake, shots of flavored gases put a gloss on the third eyes’ gaze.

Funky humanoids floating ’round the dance-mosphere,
Shapes shifters do their best ‘human,’ end on a b-boy pose, ‘Word to Earth!’ becomes the telepathic anthem to cheer,

It’s a welcome-back shindig for the travelers who risked it all in hopes to win big,
Hitting up the best parties on the grooviest planets,
and come back to tell their folk about the natives’ good times, and bad habits.

Adidas-clad humanoids glide down from the ships,
Throwing Earthentic gold ropes to the most telekenetic chicks,
Boomboxes on shoulders drop jaws, open third eyes wide,
The Pleaides’ Mindset Crew stretch their ‘new’ 3 striped track pants after several light years of a ride. – RSM

Under 2020’s Last Moon.

Under the last full moon of a sad tune
I look over the cold night amongst the bland sand dunes
and wish things were different, but hope for a happy spring, instead of another sad June.

It’s been a collective transformation, any soul from a year ago
Couldn’t even begin
to guess what this year has been.
The vaccine *should* help, but won’t repair all the loss
of jobs, money, housing, loved ones – people hurting, all across.

It was a bootcamp year, but we’ll be so much stronger after,
A disaster as the aftermath fades into the past,
we’ll figure out how to pick ourselves up along the path,
I’ve been feeling sad, but glad for what I have.

Bad times start and stop, but they never really finish,
2021 is what we make it, don’t fall for the gimmick,
it could get better or worse, or could be similar,
hopeful but doubtful is the yin / yang I’m feeling, but,

it’s all left up to us, with the hand we were dealt
to have the best health, and to try and be our best selves,

History does not repeat repeat, but it rhymes;
and when the ball drops tonight, I’ll be trying my best to smile. – RSM

Optimism Assistance Application

Thanks for applying for optimism assistance.

Your results will depend entirely on you, because how you see the world is really your own business.

Please carefully read the questions below. If you have any questions about the questions, simply #readitagain :

1. How broken, now, is your concept of stability?

a. Did anything change since COVID-19, or had it been cracked or shattered previously? Did it happen all-of-a-sudden, or was it broken down gradually, with civility?

b. What hopes did you have (if applicable) that were just grabbed, test-tubed vacuum sealed, and sent to a lab,

only to be returned with the worst of news – that all of your dreams are terminal – did this give you the blues?

2. On a scale of 0 to 1, have you yet to find out

that the real ‘invisible enemy’ is our own society, specializing in human grindout?

 

Please provide your answer(s) in the box below. Be advised, emojis are not allowed.

Please adhere to the conventions of standard written English, and also remember to say it with your chest.

Applicant Response:

1. a. Each leap year is more depressing than the last,

these microcycles of tension, division, seem to outwit and outlast,

it reminds of me seeing the wheels turning on conveyor belts of tanks from wars’ past –

flattening the earth, conforming the dirt to gridiron tracks, filling the clear skies with brown gas –

the biggest war MachinE is the one that leans

into our emotions, our Deep fears, shootIng grAppling hooks onto our heart strings –

it’s hard to ignore when life as you know it is a live production, a chaotic stage

where fuel is poured on fires, but you get thrown out of the theater for burning sage.

1. b. I can’t wait for peace to be the norm, justice to be served, and harmony to be the culture. Prejudice? Done, buried!

Later on I want to look back how hatred took on love, but love won, and hate was over with, outmatched, overrun,

but I’m not excited, nor naive –

I say “I can’t wait…” cuz that’s never how it’s gonna be.

2. ‘1.’ Yes, I know.

– RSM.

It COVID be Worse

I’m one of the lucky ones that can honestly say it could be worse. I catch myself complaining to myself about boredom, not being able to see friends, and all these first-world problems that has come up these past few weeks, but it very much could be worse.

If I had a medical job, or was an essential worker, or was laid off, or was a senior, a parent, a caretaker, homeless, or more than one these at the same time – I don’t have a lot to complain about. I’m faced with one of the best case scenarios – a test of patience. A challenge of how to use my free time with limited options. That’s it.

I want to find ways to to help, and I’m trying, but what I keep hearing is the best way to help is to stay home, don’t socialize, don’t go out if you don’t need to. It feels pointless, useless to think that just staying home helps, until I hear about people on the beach being responsible for further outbreaks and reckless behavior being a liability to others.

So if you’re young, able-bodied, and are bored, ‘stuck at home’, just be stuck at home then. You’re helping. This is your challenge – it’s different for everyone, and it’s yours to rise to, for your sake and everyone else’s. – RSM

Circum Romani

It’s hard to hide ‘the crazy’, it’s bursting at the seams

as our fearless, brainless ‘leader’ yells, rambles, and screams;

It’s a multi-ring circus with the clowns up front,

Disregarding all the crowd’s needs for their own wants.

Waving shiny banners, having us all play along,

Everyone’s hand over their hearts- singing the same song.

We outdo our Gross-Embarrassment-Product, every day,

DC-Puerto Rico-China-Syria-Ukraine,

And you can’t just blame the main idiot for all the pain,

Oligarchy is the team, and oppression is the game.

Sports are a distraction, TV and movies have been

the-opiate-of-the-masses, plus religion? Man, we’re strapped in.

The Roman Circus used to give bread to the crowds,

events free of charge, and the Romans roared loud,

they would cheer when their victims were killed and dragged away.

The Roman Circus never stopped – the show goes on today. – RSM