Is omneity even a word…

Imagine the memories of pain and hurt,
discomfort, disappointment and sorrow
didn’t just dissolve as they tend to, but
were stored-up, like a single collection
which stayed with you – a pool of tears,

embarrassments, losses, frustrations
and fears teaming with every dread,
every haunt of what has ever happened
and harmed the hope of comfort and
confidence that all’s well with the world

or at least tolerable; sure, some do
linger but the sting eases away somehow
and recollections fade, or else the
assemblage of broken bones, cuts
and bruises, stubbed toes and loves
lost would crush you, as poverty ruins
through an abundance of nothing;
there’d be no hauntless nights, not a

single pleasant day, courage would be
ridiculed and driven to despair by the
burden of history repeating itself
because our crimes against humanity
are as simple as living through it all;

so consider it a mercy to lack a sense
of permanence like an infant puzzled
by an object hidden, taunted with the
Where did it go? game we all play
and bless the benevolent omneity for
the freedom to forget, if not forgive.

That could be me…

The leaf that rides the lazy stream
is, as life, not as it seems,
tossed and pulled beyond a will
hurrying slowly, never still;
green but dying enough to be free
late season’s leaf that could be me.

Is there a human race…

earthIt’s been a long, long time since I’ve heard the expression,
‘the human race’ like I once did from my father who
invoked it in the 60’s vernacular of our one, global world,
nations united and east and west divided so clearly
all was known, though all wasn’t safe. In his own way

I was chided to behave civilly and not gad about as
an unevolved mouth-breather; the future of the human
race depended upon my sitting erect, listening politely
in a play at détente, opening doors for all types of women,
regardless, and not wasting food because children
were starving elsewhere. And there was, apparently,

a membership card to this human race than I was
continually in danger of forfeiting through my mostly
slovenly, sometimes disrespectful, manners which fell to
my father to supervise as his role in bettering said
human race inasmuch as he was able and I was pliable.