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Showing posts from 2015

The Orchards Grow No More

Nestled among the meadows of sage and sand sits the small, broken town where the Orchards grow no more.

Under the cloudless gray sky I drove past empty houses and stores.

The meeting hall lays quiet. No longer do citizens mingle and discuss within its walls.

Trees wilt at odd angles, as the irrigation wells draw dry. It's evident, the Orchards here grow no more.

On the corner of First and Main an old man sits and drinks his gin. He looks up with a far out gaze, as if an ancient desire is on his mind.

What happened, I ask.

His voice cracks as a warm breeze gently blows weeds. Twenty fruitless harvests ago, they decided to leave.

But he can't leave. He was born here and he'll die here. But he's not alone.

The memories and emotions are still in the buildings of the town where the Orchards grow no more.

Mrs. Bell and her divorce, Ron and Dane's grudge, The Smith's family feud.

The mice and coyote still seem to fight on cue.

Even when the fruit no longer fall like …

They Say...

Some say that this world is dark.
They preach that hate has torn us apart and that people have lost touch.
They assert that money is evil, that violence has plagued us, and that racism, sexism, homophobia, and overall prejudice has divided us.
So they say.
But words are just that; things that are said.
And while hate, theft, and discrimination are an occurrence that we must endure, they aren't everything in this world.
They make the world out to be some blanket of opaque darkness in which no beam of light may enter or thrive.
That any glimmer that starts as a spark will remain a spark and never thrive to be a fire. That this world is an oxygen-less expanse in which no act of kindness can develop and will always expire. 
But they only see the darkness, because their eyes are closed.
Because this world is far more than a hard slate of wasted life and lost hope.
The media flashes messages of police shootings and racial hatred; but the other day I saw two elderly men- one white the other black-…

The World I've Created

The first golden rays of sun touched this land. It's like a new world. In the footprints of innovated monoliths there's nothing now. It's staggering to think that just yesterday the world was normal; people walked in the streets with glee. Now there is nothing.

Has our aggression brought this terrifying new world upon us? Has our cleverness and might been the cause of this strife? They say we all used to live in harmony. Now the fact seems impossible.
I sit on this perch, the last structure to stand, looking at the hell we created below. The streets are still and void; in the distance the sound of a collapsing building rumbles. High above God, if he exist, is looking upon the world he created in sorrow. His gift is forsaken, perhaps under his own device. For years we had anticipated it, hell we built fortresses and labyrinths. They did us no good. Our ancestors warned of it. It appears their guidance was unheeded.
I bear testament, from the fire below to the bloody sky above,…