Trapped

I want to write about love

I want the words to freely start

Love lives abundantly in my life

It is there as ever in my heart

I want to write about peace 

I want to draw the serenity

I want to paint the lazy calm

I want to pull you along with me

I want to write about joy

I want it to eloquently roll

I want to share my everything

To give the bright of my soul

It is not for any kind of lack

The words refuse to fall

But rather, they are trapped

Struggling against hatred’s wall

This trapping hatred is not within

The seething comes from without

It is on hand regardless where you turn

Bringing man’s continuation into doubt

We were not created for this cause

This didn’t come from hands above

We were made for honorable pursuits

Peace, harmony, joy, and of course, love

Somewhere deep within the process

As the foundational blocks were lain

Mixed with those blocks of love

Were blocks carrying hate’s damnable stain

Love’s hands may be bruised and bloodied

Breaking through this infernal barricade

Perchance to make an escape 

To release love’s plentiful cascade

I will write about love

I will write about peace

I will write about joy

Hate will not stop my release

Like the dew in the morning sun

The words of hate are evaporating 

The words of love, peace, and joy 

Show no indications of abating

Hate shouts louder

Peace is stronger 

Joy still lives inside 

Love stays longer

I will break the chains

I will break the wall

I will still write

Words conquer all

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

June 23, 2020

Ghost

ghosts

some ghosts are remnants 

of ideas and belief systems

which should be dead and gone

but are harbored in hearts

broken with hatred and fear

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

June 20, 2020

Without Arrogance

There is a certain arrogance 

To thinking you understand

Another person's experiences

Even my own empathy

Can only take me so far

I cannot write the truth

Of how one must feel

From the place of safety

Standing outside looking in

Or just being an onlooker

One cannot truly explain

The feel of the battle’s heat

Or the sounds and smells

I can only feel the remnants

Standing in the place you stood

I cannot live in your skin

I can walk where you walked

I can read the first hand accounts

I can think I understand

But, that’s just my arrogance

For this cause or any cause

There are those who must speak

Speak of sights, sounds, and feels

There are those who must listen

And record, without arrogance 

When the smoke clears

When the sounds of battle cease

When the weapons of war are idle

(Make no mistake, this is war)

We must embrace the words of peace

Words like:

Change

Sacrifice

Understanding

Tolerance

Listening

Without arrogance 

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

June 19, 2020

Chia Buồn

Chia Buồn

(Vietnamese)

“shared sorrow”

When a person dies, 

There are those who gather 

And share the sorrow 

With those who lost. 

Collectively, We watched in horror

For eight minutes forty-six seconds

As a man’s life was stolen away

In the day and weeks 

Which have followed

In marches and protests

Chia buồn

We have shared 

A nation's sorrow

And a race’s outrage

Communally 

Until we can 

Share the sorrow

Share the hurt

We cannot begin to heal

Until we can

Chia buồn

We cannot

Be one

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

July 14, 2020

Beneath Your Whited Hood

Toadstool - the spore-bearing fruiting body of a fungus, especially one that is believed to be inedible or poisonous ..

Beneath Your Whited Hood

Little toadstool

Hiding your poison

Beneath the hood

Colored brightly 

Enlisting the innocent

The gentle breeze

To carry the spore

Spreading your destruction 

So like the seething hatred

Hiding in plain sight

Beneath your whited hood

Words of race and purity 

Clustering together 

In groups of fervent rage

Catch phrases and cliches 

Thin veils over nationalism 

Each spore poison filled

Released in secret meetings 

Or espoused on a national stage

Aerosolized viral bitterness

Inflaming words

Cinders burning

Pointing the finger

Shunting the blame

Isolate this one

Even crushing it

Releases the spores

Spreads the hate

Little toadstool

Carrying your poison

Beneath your whited hood

Beneath your whited hood

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

June 13, 2020

Hiding

In there

Somewhere

Not ready

To be faced

I’m living

Just fine

No need

To integrate 

I can’t deal

It’s too raw

High emotion

Low tolerance 

A part of me

I can’t look

Don’t wanna

Can’t be me

Hiding 

Behind memories

Pleasant times

Of right times

Of right things 

Parts 

Of my head

I haven’t 

Been in

(Thanks, David)

Parts heard

Worse, parts said

Tied to parts

I can’t accept

Not who I am

Nor want to be

Can’t stay

Hidden

Force it out

Face the sun

Address it

Move it along

Become 

The me

I want

To be

No more

Hiding

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

June 11, 2020

2020 surprises

2020 has brought its share of surprises. This year has gone so far out of the normal range, it’s unimaginable to many. It was not, however, completely unpredictable. There were programs and people in place to handle the things which have happened this year. That being said, there were things which blindsided me. 

Some of these include, but are not limited to: 

There is a complete misunderstanding of the relationship between science and religion by members of both groups. Science is not the enemy of religion; nor is religion the enemy of science. Both are gifts from God meant to enrich our lives. Science is the study of the world God created. Daniel, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego (fiery furnace) were cunning in knowledge and understanding science. The apostle Luke was a physician and writer of Luke and the book of Acts. Paul exhorted Timothy to avoid fruitless discussions and things which conflicted with science. Knowledge is not the antithesis of religion. Greater knowledge creates greater faith. 

There is also the seething underlying hatred now emerging from people claiming to be Christians. In 1st Peter 4.9, Peter is addressing the Church when he tells us to "Use hospitality one to another without grudging."  He tells us to deal with each other with kindness and fondness without grumbling. The original word for grumbling speaks of a ‘secret hidden displeasure not openly avowed.’ That is the very definition of prejudice. This was prevalent in their day. Even in the Old Testament, God spoke to Ezekiel about the secret chambers of the heart where man thinks God cannot see, secret places, where hatred and filth are kept, where these ’secret hatreds’ influence men’s actions. I see people posting scriptures in one post and vile cursing against other races and religions in the next. James says this should not be happening (James 3.10). When James and John suggested calling fire from heaven to consume those refusing to welcome Jesus, He rebuked them, telling them they were entertaining the wrong spirit. Be careful of the spirit you welcome into your camp and hide in the midst of your tent. 

Look around. Everything you see was created by God and meant to be understood by man. This is the work of religion and science. 

Look around. Everyone you see was created by and is loved by God. If we claim to be His children, but can’t love his creation, we are lying to ourselves about who we are following. 

I Failed

I didn’t say the words

I didn’t do the deeds

I didn’t oppress anyone

I didn’t degrade anyone

I didn’t use race 

To hold anyone down

Still, I failed

I didn’t ask to be born white

I didn’t ask to be born male

I have a race card

I have a gender card

While I didn’t use them actively

I did use them passively

Every time 

I let my race work for me

I let my gender work for me

I played my cards

With or without trying

I left my cards on the table

I didn’t let race hinder relationships

This hasn’t changed even today

I love and have loved equally

My friends are an eclectic bunch

Even in the face of these facts

Still, I failed

Every time I listened silently

To an off color or racist joke

I failed

Every time I didn’t defend

Even the passive racism I encountered

I failed

Cain: “Am I my brother's keeper?”

God: “The voice of your brother's blood 

cries continually unto me from the ground.”

I failed

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

June 6, 2020

The Accountant

So many these days

Seeming to ascribe 

To an unrealistic theory

One of non-accountability 

This ever expanding group

Apparently and genuinely so

Believe there is no consequence 

Nothing attached to words uttered

It is as if they think freedom of speech

Means they can spout like a fountain

An endless stream of fire or water

Yet remain free of burns and dry

Allow me a moment to elucidate

Perhaps the most overlooked effect

Of the first amendment right

Of unabridged freedom of speech

You have the unequivocal right 

Absolutely, to speak and/or hear

Whatever opinion or thought

Passes as coherent or incoherent 

However, there is still accountability 

There is a cost for ideals 

This price must ultimately be paid

By and at the point of issuance 

One cannot say what one may say

Without having to pay what one must pay

The cost, the price, the recompense 

The onus, the burden, the responsibility 

Life is like a pay lake

It’s free to cast in your line

You just have to pay

For those things which come out

Sow the wind

Reap the whirlwind 

You get what you give

You reap what you sow

The list is long

So as not to belabor the point

There is no non-accountability 

The bill will always come due

Choose carefully therefore

Your piece of recompense 

Free words

Will always have a cost

Speak grace to gain grace

Sow love to harvest love

Bring peace to take peace

Shine truth to stand in truths light

He’s out there 

Watching

Waiting

The Accountant 

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

June 6, 2020