New Beginnings

Everyday grants us a new beginning. Making a habit at looking, living each day as new is possibly one of the greatest gifts we can ever receive the entire year. But we take it for granted, live as though it is a continuation of the dreariness that followed us from yesterday and we become burdened by that which we think is inescapable. I know, I know… easier written, but if we just shift our perspectives, everyday can be a renewal, a rechristening of our lives. We can at least attempt to make new our lives before we dismiss it.

rain gathered me under the sky, prodding
like needles under my skin; the uncertainty
was bothersome until i looked into your
violet eyes and knew i would be reborn
as your spirit takes shelter under your
fragile skin, and as your thirst beckons
its first milk against your tongue.
holding you was easy; making you believe
my love as brilliant as stars in the
night sky… even if am mere shadow–
a lifetime i think i may have, each day,
with each renewal, convince you my words
with every letter are more than embraces,
but testimony to the unconditional that
shall not ever waver from my heart

[for SJP… my heart on this day… Happy Birthday]


Everyday is a Journey

What is a journey? Taking a trip somewhere and then coming back? Right? There’s always an association with leaving for an unfamiliar territory, possibly a faraway location and returning home with souvenirs, possibly emotionally charged or learned ones derived from the trip itself. A journey renews and transforms one somehow. Because of new perspectives, new heights sometimes reached, the mind is altered and we then look at the world in a different way. Perhaps, we come back a little more patient, a bit more forgiving. Despite leaving, I’m learning a journey doesn’t necessarily happen in a distant place. Sometimes, it just happens when we least expect it, like becoming suddenly ill and when we heal from it. Our spirit is thrown into a journey we may not have had time to take for ourselves. At that point, the stillness, quiet and rest from our temporary afflictions drive us towards a self- reflective journey where we are cornered to look nowhere else but deep inside ourselves, explore every nook and cranny so that we might expel not only the mucus and phlegm collecting in our core, but to cough out and fess up to all the habits that trap us and prevent us from living. Our temperature rises as we resist the truth, but only until we surrender and make that promise for change, in order to live the lives we are intended to live, do we break the fever and our bodies allay itself and align towards recovery. A journey towards change… what a blessing it is when we recognize it, especially when we are made to see that we are stronger than who we are, better than what we think we are. A journey transforms one and if this is the case, then everyday is a journey no doubt… it’s just a matter of whether we participate in what is being offered us.

pack my flesh, pack my soul…
into this light, plunge i and
swim towards You where i may
see my true colors beside this
gray i wear. my spirit yearns
for all the white it can behold,
the straightest line i can walk,
but i’ve been crooked and densely
worn in blue that even dances are
left untwirled, sugar unspun and
life unspectacular… free me from
this fever, this temperature rising
prison wall, push what phlegm still
plagues my vision and revive me from
this death haggling, and reset this
button in my head labeled truth

words can kill or heal?

I’ve heard that words can kill… how the intent of our delivery can literally obliterate someone to the point of no return. Have you wondered why someone disappears from our lives after we delivered an offensive comment without thought, or perhaps with some thought? “Was it something I said?” Perhaps or perhaps not. Either way, they have walked away from our lives and, perhaps, theirs is the presence we miss most in our lives. All I know is that words carry in them a vibration I never thought so powerful. Words, with the brightest intentions, can uplift and inspire someone, but words rooted with darkest intentions can literally sink and diminish the human spirit. So which side do we want to stand on? There are words that kill; on the other spectrum, thankfully, there are words that heal.

love infinitely lives and so
shall old habits die, eventually,
along with my unworthy gestures:
i’ve sliced through you without
clue, how deep my words have
buried themselves in you; mentally
impaled you (how could i?)
apologies have no weight in a
case like this and i beg for no
mercy you can’t impart though i
await leniency arrive, when pardon
can unclench your kind hands from
holding tight to anger and,
fervently, wipe instead the guilt
off my slow and darkened soul

wave of a hand

I cannot forget this simple gesture, the wave of a hand. It was at the gas station, I had filled my tank and about to drive off when a car pulled to my right side. We both stopped at our sudden motion and I waited til the blue-green passed. But the car didn’t move. Instead, the driver slightly rolls his window down and lets his sturdy hand slip out of the crack. He waves me pass and allows me to proceed with security and peace of mind.

Many times. I think about what it is I can contribute to this world. In what other ways can I help those around me? More than a smile, I think, sometimes it might just be as simple a gesture as a wave of a hand.

these gestures need no policy,
kindness is best left without
attachments from fame-starved
authors who write of giving
but know nothing of generosity,
oblivious to true poverty and
starvation; a suffering concealed
inside the folds of an anxious
belly whose hunger for one wave
of a hand spills over from the
shadow self moved by darkness

refrain from judgement

In light of the suffering people endure at this point in time, I still want to push for love. Love, in essence, can be the greatest comforter… a blanket, if you may, to our most chilling sorrow. I want to try and understand, but sometimes the most hurtful transgressions between two people can only be understood by God. Coming to this conclusion, I must refrain from judgement.

when my heart cannot take anymore,
with this apple from the tree
i bite and pray for some clarity,
make sense of the nonchalance
through which i must bare
the question to this despairing
indignity; the blood spills and
i am troubled you’ve not washed
the stain off your hands, as
though the guilt upon your
fingerprints is a signature
you want to leave behind

-mr gahon 9/8/15


I am remembering a boy who needed help dying. So much so that he caused such a commotion, brought out cops and their helicopters from their stationary positions to hover over this same boy who just held up one of the local fast food establishment not far from where I live. In the city where I live, this boy no longer lives. Because he taunted and threatened the public with his gun, he no longer lives… shot and killed amidst a confrontation. He leaves behind a suicide note and cash that he gave away willingly after his robbery. He was only seventeen and he just wanted out.

if only i can come in and
take away your pain… did
we not come across each
other at the grocery store,
walked through sliding doors
to purchase a Snickers and a
Pepsi on the same express line?
did i not smile, admire the
skateboard with the skull you
held beside, did not the
similarity of our afternoon
snack stump you for a moment
that there is one just like…
you who are brilliant burried
under all that sand, i’m sorry i
could not extend my empty hand
to reach you from the heft of
your already cumbersome life…
i’m sorry i could not meet you
in time to uplift you, pull you
out of your irrecoverable chasm

-mr gahon 8/21/15


If we stand our ground, perhaps, something beautiful can come out of the rot. Actions must speak it, not only words. But what can you say for the masses who do the opposite and sign away at the dotted line, ignorant of what they signed up for? Now, I understand how rare and few align themselves with moral integrity.

the backbones waste away, how
unfortunate then is this consumed
milk for sustenance when its
essence diminishes before you
can drink it full, teach your
bones to rattle a sound… but
it evaporates just the same as
air fills your head with
inherent doubt and ignorance;
it clouds your judgement and
seizes you with silent fear

© mr gahon 5/27/15


What is it that makes us so tightly bound to our flesh that we forget the makeup of who we are… that we are all made from God’s essence, made in his image and likeness. Who am I then to criticize another, point out their shortcomings when I am the same endeavoring to set things right? Who am I to gather such boldness inside that I seem to let humanity down with my sometime imperfect thought and speech? What then does that make me? Oh yes, human! But the balance between godliness and being human… that’s the most challenging part of it all.

i love you the same
even when my senses
get the best of me
and i forget that
love begets love
and not this stained
effort from this
distant handshake,
premature thought
that subjects you
into this disgruntled
orb where you can never
escape the wrath i hold
within… i hope you
can forgive as i strive
myself for mercy
seemingly out of reach

In Search of Faith

Just this week, I was asking for faith to be deeply strengthened in me. As I was asking God for this, I was simultaneously wondering in what form this would take. The next day, it makes its appearance. How quickly God works….

It’s the thing that I need, it’s the thing that I want… greatest faith: the kind that won’t allow me to waver, but stand still and unmoved. The kind that won’t allow me to sink to the level of those whose intentions mean to step over with complete disregard to advance their agendas for the sake of their unrelenting selfishness. To be still amidst great adversity, this is what I’m about to plunge into. Just a little bit of patience is all that’s needed.

the eager nervousness
surfaces,excited for
the collaboration
this work in faith
pulls me down
a labyrinth of highways
where cars collide and
I am untouched,
above it all
as though I walk
on water

© mr gahon 6/18/15

fears and doubts

It haunts me sometimes, how the tools to release our potential exist in each one of us. None of us were unfairly left behind. It’s just I don’t think we have empowered ourselves enough to discover it inside ourselves. The one person who can free us from the prison we keep shuffling back into is us. So what are we doing sitting on our butts and wading in stagnancy? No matter what, we must take action because there is a lot of lovelessness at risk. And what would it take for hope to grow in such empty places? When we begin to stir towards action.

coffee needs stirring
and so shall i inside
this bound cup where
its confines shall
catapult me from the
edges, equip me with
the armor to storm
through endless walls,
hindrances that are
nothing more than my
fears and doubts

© mr gahon 4/30/15