Tag: original poem

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Victory

How does one claim it?

Is it only as temporary as your next bout?

Or does at least one moment of joy suffice, potentially through one’s last days?

A better word is ‘happiness,’ I think, because it can also be achieved without competition

nor any witnesses, it can be just you, having a feeling deep within –

an excitable peace, a love for existence,

or like a hummingbird’s wings it could be constant, consistent,

a warm, lovely feeling that doesn’t go away,

it comes and goes with sports, and so it does with everything else;

and when it’s yours, in your heart, mind, soul, whatever you believe your ‘self’ to be –

then it’s yours.

Enjoy it. Love it. Don’t go around it or be above it.

Take a step back and feel yourself soar. – RSM

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Flying Toward The Sunrise on Christmas Morning

It’s been a while since I’ve spent Christmas in The Bronx,


but when I stroll back in and take my coat off, I feel lost within the familiar.


My oldest memories, just me and la familia –


Throwing miniature present ornaments into the tree and seeing where they land,


Decorating our tree as well as hula hoops with lights to make a wreath


to hang out on our balcony, and from the streets beneath


it made such a grand stand in the sky, burning bright for blocks, our Christmas parties were rockin’,


Sega Genesis and N64 games stuffed in our stockings,


The adults drank coquito and danced the night away –


And as the sun shines today onto my airplane’s windows, I can’t help but feel some kind of way.


As the world evolved and revolved we resolved each year


To persevere – through the dark times and the bright ones too, to spread cheer,


Whether it’s toys, new floors, or new iPods,


what’s always mattered more are memories

made, mainly a mix of family, friends, food,

laughs, and smiles on Christmas Day. – RSM

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Buses and Trains

I have an intimate, back and forth type of relationship


With the way I go back and forth with bus stops and train stations, it’s,


A hallmark of a city kid, having your favorite bus seat and preferred type of train car,


Or knowing which doors to pick, so when the train opens up and you head toward the stairs you don’t have to walk that far.


As the sirens blare, and loud music purveys, and other harmonious, natural city sounds emanate,


I find my own rhythm, it doesn’t take long,
getting into the groove with buses and trains is how I sing a city’s song. – RSM

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Periwinkle Skies; A Sign

A light purple, if you will,

So trill, the hue of royalty hangs itself above the ever-moving metropolis,

it’s a shade that flirts with blue, purple, and grey – every so often, this, horizon

glows above us, quietly, yet proudly.

Not unlike the dusk that follows, it wanes into darker times, yet reminding us to be not afraid of the night. – RSM

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Backpacks Dropping

Carrying one has given me perspective.

Kinda like when Goku and Krillin took their turtle shells in Dragonball,

you’re taking on a debt of labor to bring what you need along with you

and far and wide, near and close that weight is literally on your shoulders.

The parable of fool’s gold regulates the way we lug along those things we need for wherever we are going;

and booooyyy let me tell you when that weight is released –

whether it was books for class, I had just got home, touched down across the world, or just got to the car – I feel the difference. 

I feel free. – RSM

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A Cold Plunge

A silent battle yearns for an armistice
Within the trenches between the earlobes,


But it’s kinda weird, tho, not in a bad way,


How a sudden burst of icy waters give the fiery tides of the mind such a cold crush, brother!


A reset button, “mind-body hacking,” if you will,
No toxic foam needed to fizz out the flames that spontaneously blaze and overtake brains,


Just, ice the body quickly and the mind will be freed
From the clutches of the unsteady hands of anxiety.
Quietly, piously, the change in temperature always, always does the right thing,

it might make you scream at first and your skin will perk up and sing,


But after the first few seconds, you’ve made it, a quick dip in cold water is a sobering thing

and a return to peace of mind is the blessing it brings. – RSM

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The Fa$t Lane feat. American Flag Pins

Rising to power? Need power to rise?

The only ‘citizens united’ are the oligarchs who got Citizens United passed – google it – so they can do ‘what they do’ wit’ it: 

The geysers of authority are the ol’ white guy-sirs with mad coin,

Way more bank than young crypto dudes enjoy

The highest ups with seniority try to sift the words from the noise

And lend a long ladder through loan letters and grant checks, 

Checking the boxes of their grand plan – 

“Money, power, respect, get you eatin’ right”

With thousand dollar a plate fundraiser catered potlucks on diamond plates;

In shatters and shambles lie the stained glass windows of the process of democracy, a shituation gone archaic,

But the ‘powers that be’ be like “Look, what a beautiful mosaic!” – RSM

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Traditions

Empowering, uplifting, generational gifts, with unity, family, love, faith, a safe space, but

violence, disdain, exile, and prejudice run alongside some traditional ties mixed in with lies.

All it takes is a little misinterpretation to find ourselves armed to the teeth

with grief and contempt for those not following doctrine,

We don’t tempt the gods, supreme beings, nor leaders who we’ve been told to worship / fear / revere as we grow,

and as long as hatred is sowed in the fields that we teach our descendants to reap,

our loving traditions will be intertwined along with guidelines on who to love, who to hate, and who doesn’t belong.

Traditions are the chorus of humanity’s one song, and in this uni-verse I’ll gladly sing along,

but I’m not down for the twists and turns that changes love for all into misery for ‘others,’ and only love for some. – RSM

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And the Beat Goes On

Sneakers and boots swarm the shoe rack by the front door.

The apartment is bustling, the air is rustling,

buzzing with the electric bliss of danceable beats,

beer cans clicking open – a romanceable heat fills the air.

I’m there, purple pants gliding by the guidance of my black socks beneath.

I didn’t know that this pretty girl I hadn’t met yet had her bold brown eyes hovering my way,

but I’m glad that when she saw me for the first time, I was at my happiest –

I was just vibing, speaking my soul’s most fluent language.

We broke the ice with our feet and the beat

as our words flowed flawlessly over the backdrop

of about twenty-something other twenty-somethings,

grooving along to the music that moved us.

I let her know that I liked her necklace, and when she said “Thank you!”

I was introduced to my favorite smile in the world.

Today we’re ten years beyond the night we had shared our first song.

Anniversaries and holidays now align

as we dine, travel, work, live, love, laugh, and still dance together.

From days to weeks, months, years, decades, and more

I always look forward to the next time we share a dance floor. – RSM ❤

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And I Ran . . .

What a relief as I take off into the cool breeze,

I’m feeling the air, hearing my footsteps as I sweat it out,

I zoom into the void of my path ahead.

My mind drops into silence from its usual chatter, ever-loud;

distractions disappear like a leftover fog from a cloudy day.

Peace sits between my ears as a flock of seagulls sets a course ahead to explore. – RSM