Anger

The sun splashed the sky with colors 

As it broke across the hard horizon

Such blatant vibrancy chafed my soul

How could nature not be aware

Of what is churning in my life

The ticking of the clock

The progression of time

How can all other things continue

When all this stopped with you

Take me back to the time

The time before endings

The time before loss

The time before death

Do not think yourself exempt 

It could be any minute

Any hour, any day, any week

Any month, or any year

When suddenly everything stops

Just like it stopped on that day

Unexpectedly I am trudging

In the mire of sad memories

The glimmer of happy remembrances

Is sullied by darkness of pain

I know

Time must proceed

I cannot stay in this hole

Nothing changes if there is no movement

I know all the right words

I’ve heard them from the well wishers 

I’ve even spoken them to others

Now is teaching me how ineffectual they are

Anger cuts through me like a plow

Exposing the tenderness of my bared soul

Nothing good can come from this loss

The blood of my love wastes on the ground

I want to howl, I need to rage

I want to scream it out 

And yet, I want to hold it close

It is, after all, what I have left

Loneliness, my closest friend

Emptiness, my constant companion

Pain holds me like a shroud

I am baptized in bitter tears

Memory has become my enemy

If I did not know, I would not know 

For, although love is worth the pain 

Anger is all I have left

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

October 30, 2020

Within me

When we look at others

We must see ourselves 

For within them resides

Those traits within me

For all that is in the world

The lust of the flesh

The lust of the eye

The pride of life

Live within me

I am the drug addict

I am the alcoholic

I am the unfaithful spouse

I am the murderer

I am the liar

I am the thief and robber

I am the beggar

I am every person

You will encounter today

I am everyone

Upon which you looked

With eyes of condescension 

With eyes of judgment

With eyes of disdain

I am fallen man

I am Jesus Christ

As He came

In the fullness of flesh

With all its marvels and downfalls

Within me

Is every man

Within me

Is He

Within me

© Ron Simpson Jr.

October 27, 2020

Freeing me

 

My words must be free

Although from me they originate

Birthed from the depths of me

Cast out by some cataclysm 

There is an emotion explosion

Saturating and fueling their release

Irrespective of the sensation

Joy or sorrow, pleasure or pain

Grief or delight, loss or triumph

The turbulence propels them outward

Grabbing words with power infused 

Coated with sharpened barbs 

Slashing and tearing as they go

Eager to cut to the listeners core

To share my emotional state

Striving to be free

Yet

My words refuse to be free

Thwarting my best efforts

Still tethered to my heart

Creating an emotional contagion 

Generating a symbiotic bond

Forcing me to feel the readers fire

Frustrating my need to release 

I cannot get free from my entanglement 

I feel the weight crushing me

My heart has become a bruise

I am suffocating beneath the burden

I can feel nothing, save this heat

How could words betray me so

They encompass me like a chain

Dragging me into the murky abyss

They have become my death

Then

I can feel the slightest draw

As a drowning man grasping at straws

Something is slowing my descent

Is this just the false hope before death

Merely the tightening of the chains

Like one dying from hypothermia

feeling the burning of a fire

Like one entering the darkness of the end

Seeing the brightest of lights

In these, my final moments

Have I imagined a nonexistent savior

A lifeline to save me from my pit

To free my mind from the terror

The fate I have refused to accept

Have I became my delusion

The writer damned by his words 

Again

A tug

And another

Not slowing me

Lifting me

The tether of words

The barbs of emotion

The sharing of self

Never free

Connecting me

Connecting you

Holding me

Saving me

Keeping me

My words

My tether

Freeing me

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

October 25, 2020

straight

We find ourselves in this viral state 

you know, the hoax with a mask mandate 

increasing at an alarming rate 

affecting not only those living late 

but now with a younger mortality rate 

numbers seeing no abate 

working from the home plate 

in an effort to isolate 

and some to even alienate 

still growing is the daily update 

some just can’t seem to get it straight 

we are creating our own fate 

when a few refuse to cooperate 

allowing the virus to disseminate 

cases continue to accumulate 

this is still part of our debate

asymptomatics still congregate

the selfishness they demonstrate

more cases to generate

scientific facts they miscommunicate 

family members they contaminate

a narcissistic concentrate

unable to see the entire slate 

or unwilling to participate 

there should be no hesitate 

we must continue to segregate 

the only way to realistically create 

a working COVID stalemate 

once more, let me elaborate 

masks everywhere we congregate 

sanitize touches and things which relate 

wash your hands, don’t hesitate 

distance six feet, keep it separate 

did I make it straight?

© Ron Simpson Jr. (designate)

October 17, 2020 (date)

Nuttin'

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Nuttin’.”

“How you doin’ nuttin’?

“It’s much harder than you think!”

‘Lazy days’

As we called them

When I was younger

Before family and work

Demanded so much of our time

Were easier to come by

An early fall Saturday

A spacious pond

And a few poles

Were a great recipe

For doing nothing

Well, fishing

But if you’re fishing right

It’s just like doing nothing

Laying on the bank

Pole stuck in the dirt

Line dangling lazily

An immobile bobber

A half baited hook

Before you know it

Your troubles have faded

And you’re smack-dab 

In the middle of doing nothing

Of course, as life is

Some inconsiderate fish

Will come along and be tempted

They’ll just nibble a bit

Testing the waters

Making the bobber bob

Signaling a reprieve

From the state 

Of doin’ nuttin

Maybe it’s a Sunday afternoon

Churchin’ (the active part)

Is done for the day

(Not that real churchin’ is ever done)

You’ve slipped off your shoes

Your toes are warm 

In their individual sock blankets

Your eyelids are gettin’ heavier

(The added weight of doin’ nuttin’)

Life fades in and out 

Watchin’ but not watchin’

Some favored team

Somebody somewhere

Is working hard on doin’ sumtin’ 

But all of your efforts

Yep, doin’ nuttin’

Life is good

Sometimes, the goodness

Is outside of the haste

Sometimes, the best you can do

Is simply nuttin’

Shew 

All this work doin’ nuttin’

Done worked me up an appetite 

I guess I’ll do sumtin’

Down in the kitchen 

“Whatcha eatin’?”

“Nuttin.”

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

October 5, 2020

Dark

 I can remember as a child 

Hearing someone explain 

Nothing is there in the dark 

Which isn’t there in the light 

Dark

Standing with my back to the sun 

I see before me the darkness 

An inescapable depth of blackness 

Inexorably tethered to my spirit 

The malefic dark clings to your soul 

Contaminating every aspect of your light 

Owning to our dogged determination 

We just can’t let things go 

Harbored within this darkness 

The seed of every hurt 

Our petty need for vengeance 

Corrupting motives, tainting actions 

This blackness inside 

Never content to be contained

Seeping out and then inward

Hiding the wickedness

Oh yes, it’s there inside all of us

Feeding on every scrap of pain

Hiding from e’er hint of light

Content to influence from the shadows

We can ne’er defeat the dark without

Until we face the dark within

Cast aside the dominating fear

Bring to light what hides in the dark

Face it down with reason

Grind it out with passion

Cleanse the secret shadow chambers

Break the windows of black

Some things must be brought to light

Some feelings must be exposed

Some hurts must be forsaken

We must stop harboring darkness

Face the sun 

Dispel the shadows

Cast out the fear 

Chase away the dark 

© Ron Simpson Jr

October 12, 2020

The keeper of a heart

An extraordinary girl

Inner beauty beyond compare

An enchanted carriage and horsemen

Fleeing the telling chimes

As midnight chases the magic away

Although legend holds

She lost her shoe 

In her midnight dash

What she really lost

Was her hope filled heart

Patiently she waits

One day he will come

He searches the kingdom

Far and wide, to hither and yon

Carrying treasured cargo

Nothing so ordinary

As a polished glass slipper

Within his alabaster box

Encrusted with precious stones

It is the keeper of a heart

Once upon a time 

A heart was lost, yet found

The keeper searched diligently 

Until their hearts were reunited

And they lived happily ever after 

© Ron Simpson Jr. 

October 11, 2020