a very tiny spider

A very tiny spider pranced around atop my head.
It shimmied down my earlobe, and then dangled from a thread.
It scurried down my shoulder, and then scuttled down my arm,
While I watched with much amusement, since it clearly meant no harm.

Oh, where do spiders wander when they walk across the floor?
Do they have a spider family waiting just outside the door?
I hope its web is warm and soft when the day comes to an end.
Farewell, good bye, and bon voyage, my very tiny friend.


I am not content to be content. Not today,

Tomorrow, or after the leaves fall. In my way,

I am restless: eager to grow, eager to learn,

To find in each season a lesson, in turn.

I will use all the words that flow from my pen

To fight for the rights of less fortunate men:

To speak for the speechless and give them a voice,

To give hope to the hopeless – to offer a choice

Between mute resignation and mast'ry of fate.

I will change and will grow, for it's never too late

To gain the momentum to move the world forward.

No, I will not be one to turn his gaze upward,

To look at the stars, affixed there in the sky,

And to not wonder how, and to not wonder why,

And to not wonder when, and to not wonder where,

And to not wonder who might be living out there.

I will live on the moon and will sail through the stars -

Out past Saturn, past Venus, past Neptune and Mars.

No wint'ry discontent will keep me Earth-bound.

I will bloom in the light of the sun circling 'round.

I will soar through the sky like a bird on the wing.

I will laugh, I will dance, I will cry, I will sing.

I will love and I'll hurt and I'll live through the pain,

Then I'll open my heart and I'll do it again.

And, if all of my dreams do not come to pass,

I won't sigh, I won't pout, I won't mutter, "Alas,"

For I dreamt and I strove and I gave it my best

Before settling down to a long-deserved rest.


I would burn for you if you asked me to.

I would douse myself in kerosene,

Light a match, and wrap myself in flames

So that I might join you in solidarity –

That I might join you in protest

Of a brutal and blameless man,

Who left you bruised and beaten outside and

Battered and broken inside and

Burning – so brightly burning – all over.


I wish I could fragment myself,

Split myself in two,

In twelve,

In one hundred and forty four thousand,

In order to take on the suffering

Of each and every one of them:

The disaffected.

The disenchanted.

The disenfranchised.

The depressed, the isolated, and the melancholy.

The used, the abused, and the broken-hearted.

The maltreated.

The malnourished.

The maladjusted.

To each and every one of them,

To each and every one who hurts,

Who spends each day in flames,

I would reach out my hands and say,

"Let me hold you.

Place your heart in my care, and I will guard it for you.

I will make it my own.

I will burn in your place."

I would suffer,

and they would be made whole,

and learn how to love and to live,

and to teach and to give,

and to fragment themselves in order

to teach others how to fragment themselves

and to heal themselves and to give of themselves

so that they might one day, too,

watch after the hearts of others.


The fog devours the world today,
Gray and voracious,
Like a swarm of mosquitoes feasting
On the salt-streaked flesh of summer revelers

It eats and eats and eats and eats,
Whatever thought or care,
Whatever sympathy or empathy
It might otherwise have for its prey
Completely subsumed by the desire,
The burning desire,
The endless desire,
The burning and endless desire
To sate its burning and endless hunger

What was there now is gone,
Entombed in an endless gullet, waiting
Waiting to be digested

It may return one day,
The world, one day,
Some day,
On a better, sunnier, happier day

But for now,
The buildings,
The cars,
The people within who live their lives and kiss their wives,
Who hug their children,
Who walk their dogs and pet their cats,
Who pay their bills and prepare their wills,
Who have Facebook profiles
And twitter feeds
And smartphones
And data plans
And heartburn
And ulcers
And migraines
And hypertension,
Who have master's degrees and GEDs,
Who have mortgages and 401ks,
Who have a tenacious grip on financial security
And a constant yet ill-defined sense of unease
Are gone
All gone
Every single one of them
Devoured by the fog