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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

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Weird Space Island Life

We’re in a weird time where real life doesn’t even feel like real life.

It’s an uncharted little island that we’re on,
Floating through a mystery of darkness and stars,

on a little wet rock that spins along this universe, or ‘one song,’

while the clocks click and the teens tok-tik and the IG reels flick
and the snaps play,
live streamers speak – even when they have nothing to say,

and 500 stories later there goes the whole day.

Not gonna lie, I’ve low key kind of hated
how the distance created
between us all has stayed vacated. – RSM

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Seven Years Later

It all worked out, despite the odds.

It’s on me to keep the good going.

A setback or two has no place in my mind

cuz I crush those with one hand now, without even trying.

The strength gained from it all isn’t seen on the physical,

Rather a strong mind, soul, my ‘guns’ are metaphysical –

I love the love that I have, it’s a skill

that’s built through the storms of life, even still,

I know our lives are a painting or a novel unfinished

as we look back on our bad times when we felt diminished;

But trust me, my guy, my ‘rock bottom’ is a flex

Cuz I know the grit and grime it took to manifest

The present, past, future that rises each morning,

Seven years later I’m not just flying, I’m soaring. – RSM

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Life is Funny

How many mountains so we have to climb

to finally feel worthy of a little bit of time to unwind?

How many victories require a tax?

How many little breaks ended up bringing us back?

How often does a good life moment have some heavy fine print?

How do the happiest times turn to shit?

How does a celebration end up a challenge?

How do emo songs at midnight once again become valid?

How does paradise come with a catch?

How are we to face this? How are we to act?

How many little tricks does life like to play, and what do we make of it all, anyway?

– RSM

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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

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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

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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