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look, look, look
Me, Me, Me

here and there
with this and that
each selfie spiritual

always up
always hashtagged
always posing
always poised

BUY, BUY, BUY
such a thrill

cloaked in prosperity
escape with me
checkmark, heart, smiley
emoticons ate emotions

emotionally so intelligent
being so mindful
feels so really
Me, Me, Me

Copyright 2019, All Rights Reserved

Photo: Limo2PHL2LAX (Philadelphia, July 2019)

I Am the Sun

img_3402-i-am-the-sun-1-22-17

When the sky darkens
With the approaching storm,
When the sky darkens
With the fading day,
I will not retreat.

When the shouts drown out the smiles
And children stop being happy,
When sadness becomes infectious
And metastasizes into gloom,
I will not despair.

When the numbers overwhelm
And all feelings become scary,
When all lose forever all hope
And desperation paints all into corners,
I will not surrender.

When heavy rains turn creeks into torrents
Of heavy brown turbulent mud
That erodes both earth and lives,
I will not get swept away.

When death and its stench
Foul the land and our nostrils,
When sobbing is the only
Sound greeting the morning,
I will not stop living.

I will not succumb
To all the hells that have been
To all the hells all around me
To all the hells that will be.

I am burning bright even in darkest night
Glowing above the most terrifying storm
Not dimmed by events on Earth or in sky;
My eternal joy, hope and optimism burn
Stronger than mere dogma, fear, and power.

I am the sun.

© 2017 by John David Higham: All Rights Reserved
Sky, Sun, and Earth (Windfall Road, January 21, 2017)

On This Road I Walk

img_1844-dec-25-2016-the-mountain

On this road I walk,
I saw a mountain
That was such a mountain
That was a barrier
That was a wall,
It
Stopping me from moving
Stopping me from living
Stopping me from being.

On this road I walk
I saw a cloud
That was such a cloud
That was a darkened crown
That was a Night Angel,
It
Stopping me from breathing
And filling my mind
With thoughts of retreating
With thoughts of failing
With thoughts of surrender.

On this road I walk
I saw the sun lighting
That was such glowing lights
Breaking through the gray veil,
It
Melting away my fear
Melting away my surrender
Melting away my failure
Until this mountain
Until this cloud
Until this road
Was
Once again
Mine.

On this road I walk
Mountain,
Cloud,
And sun
Guide me this day
Guide me this path
Guide me this life.

© 2016 by John David Higham: All Rights Reserved
Photo: White Christmas 2016 (Thunder Mountain, Sedona, 12/25/16)

Little Minds, Little Minds

PHL to SETAC to Sedona 3 20 16 088

Little minds,
Little minds
Please don’t
Distort, defile, define
My reality;
I don’t need
Your language of violence,
Your language of oppression,
Your language of fear.

Little minds,
Little minds
Please
Go run and play with
Someone else’s soul
And leave mine alone;
I am not your playground.

Little minds,
Little minds
Your swirling evil
Blurs my vision,
Hurts my ears
And numbs my skin.

Little minds,
Little minds
Please:
I sojourn through worlds
That you won’t
Allow yourself to comprehend.

Little minds,
Little minds
Please
Let me bring you here,
But you have to
First
Free yourself
Of the violence that binds you
Of the oppression that binds you
Of the fear that binds you.

Little minds,
Little minds,
Thank you for being
And
Thank you for teaching
Me patience, serenity,
And temperance
Again.

 

© copyright 2016 John David Higham

Who Wants This Truth?

Seatec to Windfall 2 20 16 151

Who wants this truth
That is flowing like a river from the sun
And cascades all over my life
In a nurturing flood
Of Abundance and bliss?

Who needs the touch of the warm wind,
The hypnotic sound of the ocean’s waves,
And the comforting embrace of a lover
In the middle of a raging snowstorm?

Why would I share these worlds?
What might they bring me
Or take from me if I sat only in silence
And said nothing of the thousand worlds
Inside my head?

What should become of those
If each were hidden in a prison of my mind’s making,
Each submitted to a rigorous test before allowed
To grace the glorious light of day?

It reminds me of the dawn:
In the morning, the sun brings the birds and their music
Until the discordant logic machinery disrupts
The day’s symphony.

These things my path consists of;
How many countless times have I lost myself
Justifying my truth to the birds who only care to fly,
The sun that only cares to shine,
The wind that only cares to move about?

They’ve no use for my justifications
And neither do I;
Truth exists sans words and reasons
And requires I justify
Nothing to my strictest judge: me.

My art is my truth,
My truth is my life,
My life is my being,
My being is this poem:
Nothing more I will explain.

 

© copyright 2016 John David Higham

I Saw Blank Pages

February 8 2015 Windfall 008

I saw
Blank pages,
Blank books,
Unfinished poems,
Unfinished synopses,
Unfinished pitches;
I saw them everywhere.

I heard
Unspoken dialogues,
Undeveloped characters
Unrealized plots;
I heard them all night.

Too many
Worlds were swirling
In my head;
Waking, dream, creative, mundane
Were all begging, stealing, fighting
For my attention, my energy, my soul.

Too much, too much, too much
In this writer’s world
Being pushed aside ;
Creative opportunities,
Artistic potentials
Flowing like floodwaters
In all directions
Across an infinite plain.

Will my passion shrivel
If I don’t overfeed it?
Will my magician
Cease making his magic?
Will enslavement
And mediocrity
Be mine?

Meditating,
I sought out
The Inner Voice,
The Universe,
The Great Spirit,
The Angels
To direct me.

Breathing in,
Breathing out,
Breathing in,
Breathing out,
Breaths cleansed me…

So loud the answer
Came to my consciousness:
“Temperance,”
“Temperance,”
“Temperance.”

I saw my smile.
I heard my bliss
And the worlds
Stopped swirling
In my head
So that I could once again
Write my soul’s poem.

 

© copyright 2016 John David Higham

You Who Questions (I Who Learns)

September 26 2015 111

In the deepest part of the night
When silence replaced commotion
And the cries of suffering souls
Were more easily discerned,
My path intersected with yours;
Our words becoming interwoven
On the electronic page.

You who questions
In a half-sorta-kinda way
(Was it sarcasm dripping:
I’m still not sure)
Like a lightning bolt that
Flashed deep into my soul
To that faraway place
Of transcended yesterdays.

There,
I had fought my way
With submission and suicidal self-loathing
Out of school buses ruled by bullies
And into those governed by men
Who sought to take that which no one gives
And repulsed those beasts with such rage
That they rightly feared for their lives.

I, who have seen childhood nights
Blossom into hells created by psychosis
And rage by those who parented me,
Learned to know me
Learned to know waking and dream worlds
As safe and loving
And learned to challenge evil
At its every turn on my path.

Imperfect, I
Shattered windows, walls,
Windshields, and hearts
During my clumsy evolution;
Those painful episodes
And subsequent amends
Now distant mileposts,
But always significant lessons.

Yes, your words
I gave immense power
To take me to such places,
To recall being so hurt,
So sensitive that my only safety
Was so far deep inside my writing
That nothing and no one could harm
That nothing and no one could enter.

Too,
My words and wit
Once won me many a fight
(Or, misunderstandings that
Evolved into silly battles of egos)
That served only to bloody the souls
Of all involved.

Those, too, are of my past.
I will not hide my faith,
I will not rage on you or me,
I will not dig deep into you
And subject to ridicule
Your motivation,
Your being,
Your pain,
Your path.

Instead,
I who learns,
I who meditates,
I who listens to The Angels,
I who knows my path
And respects you on yours;
I send in The Angels
And embrace gratitude
Because I can turn my cheek.

 

© copyright 2016 John David Higham