independence

we are all so different.

we listen to different music,
like eating different foods,
believe in different gods,

or no gods at all.

we love different people,
cry at different times,
speak different languages.

the only thing any of us have in common is that we are all alive,
living under the american flag,
free.

because of that flag,
we can be different.

we can dance to different songs,
appreciate different cultures,
practice different religions.

we can love who we choose,
feel both happy and sad,
speak and be heard.

we are all so different,
which makes us all the same;

and we only take one day a year to notice it.

our streets are filled with prejudice and pride,
americans hating americans
for the things that make us so.

we should be embracing our differences,
not creating violence over them.

it is our differences that made us free.

we dared to be different,
vowed to live harmoniously,
versus monotonously.

that spirit should intoxicate our air all year round,
not just on july fourth.

we should breathe perseverance,
adopt the mindset of our founding fathers once more.

we come alive as americans on the fourth of july,
celebrating our beautifully diverse nation,
as one.

we have always been one,
and it's time we started to recognize it.

bella ray

happy eleventh birthday to my little sister today :)

my dear isabella,
where do i begin?

i love you so much,
but not enough comes out from within.

it's been my job to protect you,
and i've really tried my best,

but you tend to get yourself into scrapes
that almost always result in a mess.

i taught you to bike,
you taught me what mattered;

that not every life
is so hard to shatter.

you've seen my laugh and cry,
and i've witnessed the same for you,

glad to be the one you come to
when you're unsure what to do.

you may be small,
and you may be annoying,

and the day i leave this house
i may be rejoicing,

but when you're home late from school,
or somewhere i can't see,

i worry,
and wonder where my baby sister might be.

you have been mine since the day you were born,

through movie nights, food fights,
and sisterly scorn.

our favorite ed sheeran
constantly reminds you and me,

that the worst things in life come free to us,
but i think the best do too.

i'm unbelievably lucky to have a sister like you,

and even more blessed to share our birthday too.

i love you, bel,
that's the bottom line.

you live up to your middle name-
you're my ray of sunshine.

faith

words have always been there.

pushing against the lips of bullies on the playground,
crawling across the whitespace of a computer screen,
lurking in the shadows of moments unwoken;

but not all words have been seen as hurtful.

the bible's stories are holy,
its words preached, practiced, believed,
by everyone.

it is not touched or
altered, only hailed and
followed.

the bible tells of jesus and his disciples.

it tells us tales of triumph and defeat,
demonstrates in the simplest of ways,
how faith conquers all.

the bible teaches us about evil,
that to be true to our creator,
we must hinder ourselves.

sins,
it calls the acts of hindrance.
ungodly sins.

in the bible's eyes,

homosexuality is disgusting.
abortion is murder.
pre-marital sex is adultery against god.

in the bible's eyes,

love is circumstantial.
rape is a responsibility.
your choices about your body are at the liberty of the lord.

these words have been cloaked and concealed by priests,
continuously spoken without knowing how much pain they cause
with each new breath.

god loved jesus enough to give him two lives.

how can we say he created every man equally,
that he loves every man equally,

when we, as god's disciples,
pick and choose which of those men are worthy of the catholic church?

what gives us the right
to go against god's morals?

what gives us the right
to deny a man a life lived in faith
when another man got to live it twice?

jesus died and rose again because he was a leader.

the people listened to him, believed in him,
because he had good things to say.

let us rise again.

ti amo

today i find myself in a peculiar position;
to put love into words of my own jurisdiction.

love has been brandished with kisses and flowers,
weathered by roller coasters of emotional endowers;

love has been beaten by misguided hands,
made phony and cliché by movies and white sands;

love has been dreamed of by girls in long dresses,
has been toyed with and tried at by men grasping for their tresses;

love has taken many forms in the past,
today it finds new ones, sometimes scarier than the last.

no matter what we do, love still carries on,
sometimes it seems as if love is the only thing not gone.

much like hope, love holds us to the ground,
carries us and leads us while our spirits nearly drown.

its hands may be slight, its gaze pale and soft,
we often don't see it til it's flown aloft.

it's a beautiful thing, to catch love before its flight,
even more breathtaking to hold it all your life.

don't worry about finding the perfect prince charming;
love is already next to you; in family's blessing.

this valentine's day, wear your heart on your sleeve;
and open it to those who really do need

your laugh,
your smile,
your chocolate-chip cookies,

your nightly read-alouds,
your warm embrace,
your hand-knitted booties,

you.

love is always near,
behind all those closed doors;

there are people who love you;
who are forever yours.

kaleidoscope

mlk jr, we've got work to do.


he was a dawn.

a new beginning,
a flourish of colors,
mixing into one.

in his eyes,
black and white turned gray;
colors blended,

without control.

his art seemed beauty to some,

other simply couldn't understand.

their minds were too clean-cut,
they saw only in black and white.

he wasn't color-blind,
like so many of them were.

he painted pictures of what life could be like,
illustrated the definitions of peace and harmony
through florid speeches.

his words seemed decadent to some,

others still could not understand.

their ears only heard the whistle of a bullet
in all those ornate sentences.

they had to stop him
for they feared he might actually
make a difference.

they were afraid
of the change he held in his hands.

they thought they'd stopped him.

they thought it was one man's dream,
                             one man's vision,
                             one man's choice.

he was a dawn.

he was the first to blur the lines,
the first to paint a world
withut discrimination.

that painting has yet to be finished.

he left his brushes wet
and his easel clean
that april day.

it's our turn to paint.