A Swing & A Miss

A Thousand Words
By Becky Freeman

Pictures hang huddled and still on walls in my room.
Haunted memories appear and repeat. 
Memories form scenes on the front wall of my mind,
Sparkled rays glow from the reel projectors in my head;
Swaying and dancing, recreating my past.
Colors, muted and dull like old home movies.

Images, clear and familiar.
Pictures, all that remain of twenty-nine years.
Moments of joy, confidence, and contentment;
Time spent overlooking holy ruins, ancient and decaying.

Overwhelming and utterly filling.

Sleepless nights, bleached beaches, sober or not.

Conversing, waiting, impatiently anticipating the rising sun
The ocean felt large--I felt small.

Bobbing on turbulent ocean waters,
Bearing the humid heat of a Thai monsoon solstice.
Rain fell hard and fast fueling my soul.

People, places, things, and parties 
Beautiful dangle arranged in systematic clusters waiting to be relived. 
Pictures, the few souvenirs I’ve saved.
Moments frozen in time 
Reminding me I’ve lived a life worth living.

A Bird & A Bee
by Becky Freeman

Melodic ballads conducting rhythmic waves of sheets
Entertaining impulsive behavior—and LIKING IT.
Sharing eternity in this storm together.
Never dress, live here.

In a world of sadness, selfishness, and separation
Earth-shattering connections occur,
Connections where souls found free to touch
And be touched.

Experiencing love where day turned to night,
And night lost her way into light once more.
A place vulnerability and trust became a thing of beauty,
And no longer one of fear.

Lazy laughter muffled by Egyptian cotton.
Days lying, exploring, and exposing
Uncovering walls and masks that precede us.
Untying attachments to uncertainty  

I long for the darker dark of your silhouette
Your garnet eyes that melt my stone walls.
Our Entangled love lacks complexity.
The sum of all parts equals completion.

My Def Jam Poem

by Becky Freeman 

I am looking for a job.
I’ve scoured "The Classifieds",  "Craiglist",
And on www.pleaseDearGodfindajobformeThanksamen.com.
I am looking for a job that I don't need to be good at
One that doesn't require too much time or effort,
Something that pays grip,
Somewhere I get along with my co-workers,
Someplace I can better myself everyday,
And a place where those efforts will be recognized on a monthly or even daily basis.
Sadly… I haven’t found anything that suits my criteria just yet.
I am looking for a Help Wanted ad that reads simply,
"Skaters Wanted"
Because in a world packed with riches we are in dire straits for the skater

So I am taking it upon myself to bring the power back to the people.
I am asking you to clock in and go to work in your urban playgrounds as
well as doin’ yo thang,
To making this sphere a better place to live.
I’m sending this out to you,
The people who kill it 40 + hours a week to make ends meet.
Those who painfully upscale their wardrobe to a shirt and tie four days a week to Meet the protocol of business casual,
But when casual Friday comes around you're back to
Representin' your saggy-ass draws and skate sneaks.
My people who hobble into work with your newest trophy,
A fleshy gash framed in black and blue you got droppin a bowl.
This is a call for any and all out there who are laid-back country, AND city folk. People not living to work, but working to live.

In the halls of my high school we were the few.
We were the proud.
We were the anti-conformists.
We were the 15 punk kids that wore "Floyd", "Zeppelin", DC, Van, and Emerica Tees.
We were the ones with beat skate shoes, duct taped and shoe gooed until the final kick flip sent them to their grave.
Amongst Cowboys, Jocks, Cheerleaders, Hippies, Band Members, Thespians, Nerds, Preppies, and Latinos.
We were stoked to be the raddest outcasts in our school.
We were the ones stayin’ late in dentition because we were too busy during school
mastering mob varial flips in the parking lot to make it to class.
And to this day, though older, in our own way… cooler,
We put in our time after work and as weekend warriors.
We rally waiting for an open drop at the skate park
Still trying to master that mob varial flip.
We live life without regret and without regard.

I have traveled the vast lands of this here Mother Earth.
I have come to find there are loads of people searching,
We are searching for divinity, love, hope, strength, wealth, abundance, and completion.
We are seeking virtue, integrity, and possibility.
Now, I’m not telling you I know where to find true happiness,
I’ll leave that to you,
But I do want to help you know who your real friends are in this world.
They are the scrappiest of the scrappies,
They are the broken, bruised, busted, bloodied, and still limping to find the answers. They are those that get knocked down beat up, smashed, and are hobbling back to the top to do it again.
They are skaters

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