Poem: Re-Human


How to be open

when life is caving in

or to give

when so much

is taken

The fires are lit

and souls are drowning

the earth is folding in

on itself

trying to get away

Transcendence

left at the

footprints

of Gods

who have abandoned

We are now

left alone

to swirl in our own

chaos

or to beg

for them to create us

again

 

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Poem: I Am Flowers


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I am Snap Dragon

with fire fingers

which have lost their click

 

I am Rose

that has learned to kneel

to hide my height

 

I am Queen Anne’s Lace

now a pauper

begging for freedom

 

I am Bird Of Paradise

wings clipped

roaming the sands

 

I am Tulip

mouth quiet

because no-one will listen

 

I am Bleeding Heart

ever battling

slowly dying

 

I am Iris

forever watching

but never seen

 

I am Freesia

saving your soul

while lost in the night

 

I am Marigold

filled with riches

only a few can see

 

And I Crocus

much as I speak

I’m heard as a toad

 

We are Pink

We are Hellebore

We are Mugwort

And Phlox

 

Touch-Me-Not

for I can never be

reached

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Purpose


Does one have to be a Einstein or Picasso or some other famous artist/inventor to have a great passion in life? Or is a great love that drives ones passion in life? What makes a person get up every day with fire in their belly and music in their soul? And why do some of us seem to lack this magical feeling?

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I can look back in my life and know there have certainly been times and people that lit this passion in me. Moments of great beauty and things that I did where I knew I was following my bliss. These flashes of ‘rightness’ were so calming and soothing and made my world worth living. It’s when we know the path is chosen and wherever it takes us, we will learn and grow along the way. We will become bigger, learn and hopefully give back to the Universe too. All the cogs mesh together…and things run smoothly.

But it seems more often than not, for me, much of my life has been devoid of these feelings. There has been more a sense of being lost and off the path. That finding meaning to it all is difficult and that passion is almost not possible. The older I become, the more excuses I find to feel the numbness that surrounds the world around me. There is a fuzziness that surrounds the picture of what I feel should fill that hole.

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The day to day treadmill of sunrise and sunset becomes an anxiety of loss. I will never get those days back–days lacking in color, in meaning, in passion.

So what does one do? If I’m not artistic I can’t suddenly become a musician or painter. And if I’m not brilliant, I can’t find the code to unlock the cure to cancer. How then do I awaken myself?

Life is a beautiful gift, this I do know and I don’t want it wasted (although so much of mine already has been) on much more mundane things day in and day out. While others ask for material gifts, I only want to feel more alive and have a deeper sense of purpose.

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The Real Deal


I feel I’ve always been pretty good at telling what’s the real deal. Of course this can refer to many things in life: food, merchandise (like diamonds–Marilyn would especially want to note), maybe love even (admittedly I’ve not been good at this). But in this case I’m talking about people. Are the people we meet, either at work, in social situations, on the street simply real?


You might wonder what I mean by this I suppose. Like, get real dude. It just seems the older I get, the more superficial people seem to me. Or at least, the less they are interested in things that involve anything that may mean thinking too hard, caring in a big way or really, really standing up for what you believe in.

It’s just easier to go to work, talk about your nails or hair, pretend that you’re friends with the person standing next to you, casually mention the horrors of the world, then hop in the fancy car and go home like nothing is happening. Like nothing is real. Like the horrors are really happening. Or your friends may not be really suffering, or maybe someone who isn’t your friend, just a co-worker, might need something from you more than a passing smirk.


No, it’s all about our own little microcosm. Our little floating bubbles that encase us and keep us separate but make it appear as though we’re able to see each other. But it’s just an illusion.

And in many ways I’m just as guilty. Oh I cry when I hear the news, but I don’t do anything about it. I just drive back and forth to work wishing I could do more. But I don’t. Not yet anyway. Swearing I will someday…when I can. At least I care I say to myself…it’s more than some. Does that make me more real?


When I’m with people, near people in real pain though, I do react. That much I can say. I can never sit by and just ignore it. And things like fingernails and doing my hair are not important to me anymore (well, they never were). It’s OK that they are to some, but there has to be more. Our worlds have to connect with people who have nothing.

So who is the real deal these days? Let’s get real here. Open our eyes to the real world. The war, the famine, the terror, the rape, the killing, the fires, the homeless, the poor, the racial disparity… And even the people close to us in true pain.

Let’s not pretend. Even while we live our comfortable lives, keep a piece of discomfort in our hearts to keep us real.

Last Day


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Eight years ago I began a job in a fire department in a small New England town. Today was my last day. Oddly it  could very well be my last day as paramedic altogether. I have not decided yet, but it’s likely I might  try something different.

More like 20 years I’ve been in the emergency services. It’s been a long and interesting path, with many potholes along the way. But the road also took me down some beautiful roads where I learned to become someone I didn’t know was inside me.

I’ve met many strangers who became dear friends and had friends turn their backs on me. But helping to heal the sick is a blessing that I have been fortunate enough to experience.

So maybe this life guard will no longer be on duty. And the day now may be done on this career. But my patients and my service will always be deep in my heart.

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