I recorded this poem in 2017 from my New York City hotel room bathroom. My wife was asleep after a long day of sightseeing-but I found myself very awake.
Earlier in the day we visited Ground Zero in NYC and the experience left a deep mark on my heart.
In the middle of the relentlessly noisy and dynamic city was this quiet and sacred place where hundreds of people were gathered to reflect on what happened on that terrible day in September.
Being at Ground Zero felt like I was walking on holy anointed ground. I could feel the weight of the two buildings absence. There was this remarkable thickness in the air - maybe that’s what happens when we are surrounded by dozens of tear-catching angels.
cover the tree with ornaments
wrap your home with blinking red lights
make a plate of fat chocolate chip cookies
and then pray that Santa makes all of his flights
the Yuletide specters have formed a choir
and they’re singing outside your of door;
a couple of songs of a hope that’s born again
and a lovelyullabu about the end of all war
there’s a pair of used wine glasses in the sink
and a couple plates that smell of old gravy
the proud feast that has come and gone was
held in the honor of a 2000 year old baby
My son was diagnosed with Autism 16-years ago. At the time he was non-verbal and living with serious cognitive delays. The doctors told us he would likely never be able to live independently.
Yesterday was his last day of High School. He is off to The University Of Wyoming.
This is the slow boil lesson Noah has taught me over the course of his journey with autism:
autism doesn't mean broken
it means "Incandescent smile."
it means "Courage beyond measure."
it means "Watch this!"
it means "Don't you dare doubt me.”
it means "This is a world of miracles."
it means "Different is beautiful."
it means "Hope endures."
it means " Unashamed!"
it means "My story is still be written."
it means "Life is a flowerbed of countless unique colors."
it means "Burning heart."
it means "Love don't stop."
the windows are shaking
the sun is swelling
the china is rattling
the ground is splitting apart
the sky is falling
the sirens are blaring
the geese are fleeing
the plans we wrote out in
detail on onion skin paper
have caught on fire
all of our blueprints are burning
up in a pungent cloud of
herbal tears
everything we so
carefully planned
for is being undone
this is it
the world is ending
for one last time
would you be kind enough
to sit on the lawn
and make one last memory
with me?
haven't been able to write for a week because I had a piece in my head that I really didn't want to write. It was stuck in my brain like a popcorn kernel in between a couple of teeth. I kept trying to put off writing it but I couldn’t. The whole thing haunted me 24/7.
It became clear that I couldn't move onto anything else until I finally wrote it out. I sat down at three hours ago and agonized over every line.
Normally when I struggle to write something I never ever share it with the world because it's usually a mess.
This is no exception - but I am compelled to post it for reasons I can't quite figure out.
For days I have been feeling the suffering of another person who is full of despair - but I don't know who it is. It has weighed on me like a blanket.