Integrity

Life is filled with challenges
To test the moral boundaries of
Honor and morality that
Stretch from here to there to where

The breakers of stability are
Cordoned from civility
And simple serendipity
Gives battle to despair.

And we are want to rise above
Temptation’s trap, to tug and shove
And distance us from those we love
Through avarice extreme.

While righteous indignation lopes
To muddle every dream and hope,
We learn that life’s kaleidoscope is
Seldom what it seems.

The rebel in me wants to fight
For every cause I know is right
Resisting evil with the might of
Even-handed truth.

With candor and sincerity
To reach beyond what needs to be and
Muster the integrity of
Tender unspoiled youth.

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Idealism

Oh, to be young again,
On the first rung again
Climbing the ladder of life, 
Filled with a wonderment,
Honest and innocent,
No stress, no struggle or strife.

Hope is a fleeting thing,
Hummingbird on the wing
Flittering flower to flower,
Knowing with certainty
Nectar flows wild and free
Waiting for him to devour.

Trust is a grand event,
Gentle and Heaven-sent,
Welcome and giving in form.
Open for all to see,
Fraught with fragility,
Vulnerable to hurtful harm.

And when in the end
We’re back where it begins,
Where dreams brush horizons of dawn,
The way becomes clear and
We walk without fear knowing
This is the place we belong.

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Humor

Whimsy, wit and gaiety, 
Playful jocularity,
Banter-born buffoonery and
Joyful, joking jest.

Comedy with clowning laughter, 
Sad before but happy after,
Teasing mirth to rise to rapture,
Feeling wholly blessed.

Revelry in crystal giggles
Dancing naked wrapped in wiggles,
Bouncing flesh that jumps and jiggles
Falling on their asses.

Silly clown so sweet and sappy
Laughing, crying, sad and happy, 
Fat suspenders swank and snappy
Cheering up the masses.

Goofy slapstick, never subtle,
Falling flat-faced in a puddle,
Leaping up in full rebuttal
Ready to reply.

Humor is the great redeemer,
Manna for the hopeful schemer,
Mindful muse for restive dreamers
Finished with a sigh.

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Humility

Behind passive docility 
Is a layer of inner tranquility
Where the strength of resolve
Is the linchpin to solve
All the problems of modern civility.

The façade may be humble and shy
And the wherefore may exceed the why,
But the answers you seek, 
The timid and meek,
May be hard for the hordes to decry.

No one wants a braggart for friend,
But you don’t want to hurt or offend.
You hear with disjoint
Only up to a point,
But then turn a deaf ear in the end.

There is only so much one can take
When mucking the mire with a rake.
You try to hold back
When you’re under attack and
Stay calm for humility’s sake.

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Humbleness

Please, don’t mistake timidity
For weakness or fragility
When tempered by humility and
Modest reservation.
This sheepish unpretentiousness may
Seem to leave me powerless,
But don’t expect me to regress to
Grievous subjugation.

I love this unassuming screen
That shields me from harsh sunlight’s gleam  
Where pathos dwells behind the scene
And I can look demure.
But I have loads of confidence
Kept hidden deep behind a fence
Without contention or pretense
Or faceless overture.

I’ll be not prone or hesitate
To silence or self-deprecate.
I have no grand ego to sate,
Or yen for spotlight’s glow.
But buried deep beneath the shroud
A fierceness lingers loud and proud,
Waiting like a thundercloud
To ravage all below.

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Hope

Hope is a wish whispered into the wind
With the prospect of promise on
Pale primrose petals,
Wafting the waltz of warm
Dawn’s distant dream,
Immune and protected from
Life’s nudging nettles.

Striding with head held high
Into the onslaught
Cloaked in a confidence
None may deny.
Keeping the faith of
The millions of millions,
Seeking the answers to
What, when and why.

Hope is the angel who
Rides on my shoulder with
Brow raised, unfazed by peril and woe,
Keeping my eyes focused
Bright on the future
With clear optimism
Wherever I go.

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Honor

He is a soldier in
The crusade of life
Marching to drums of
Society’s favor.
Sensing the scent of affinity’s flavor,
Ne’er seeking respect or esteem
For his service.

Never a blemish or cause for disgrace.
Head high, eyes forward,
A smile on his face.
A pillar of dignity and veneration,
A sign of prestige to a whole generation.
Seeking no praise or unsightly sensation
He fades in the background
Without a trace.

Always inclined to do what is right
To brighten dark corners with shards of daylight
And comfort a friend through
A long sleepless night with
A deftness beyond commonplace.

Honor bears witness,
Honor stands tall,
Makes no apology
In fairness to all.

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Honesty

Information saturation,
Overload… Overload.
What to think… who to believe.
Which can to kick down a dusty road.

When did sincerity morph into whimsy?
Where was integrity banished to hide?
How can I sort through the flotsam encountered
While taming the beast in life’s carnival ride?

Truth is the pillar, the mainstay, the
Linchpin of human morality and intervention.
When honesty waivers it dies of corruption
Til trust is destroyed beyond all recognition.

And we are the weavers,
The guardians of truth,
The prim and the pious who spearhead the way.
We cannot cede or renounce our position
Lest devastation conquers the day.

And when in the end we come back to the fold
Where laughter and logic abound,
It’s honesty’s voice that gives us the choice
To speak out without making a sound.

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Helpfulness

“Could I get a little help here?”
            “Sorry. Much too busy, Man.”
“Maybe you can spare a minute?”
            “No. Got some place I need to be.”

“How ‘bout you? Can you assist me?”
            “Mister, I don’t even know you.”
“I’m just someone in a bind.”
            “Sorry. No concern to me.”

“Pardon Ma’am, might I beseech you?”
            “What? Is that some kind of line?”
“No, I only need some aid.”
            “Oh, stick it where the sun don’t shine.”

“Is there anyone who cares enough to
Grant a little favor?”
The silence makes a lonely mistress
In a bed of misery.

“Is there no one in my life who
I can count on not to waiver?”
            “Hold on friend. I’ll lend a hand, but
            Tell me, what’s in it for me?”

Perhaps I should not hesitate when
Some poor soul cries out in need.
The way life goes, one never knows, 
That poor soul could one day be me.

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Gratitude

I want to thank you very kindly.
Much obliged… Much obliged.
This overwhelming gratitude is
Like a cleansing breath of Spring.

Though I hate to feel indebted
I will take your gift in stride
With all the foils and burdens
Magnanimity can bring.

Can’t forget to give a shout out.
That would be rude… Very rude.
Kindness needs to be rewarded
Else we fail all sense of grace.

Never want to lose perspective,
Everything is attitude to
Quid pro quo and clearly know
You’ve put a smile on someone’s face.

Kindness never should be slighted or
Treated with trite platitude,
When it takes but a moment
To express our sincere gratitude.

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Grace

Grace is a sunrise glowing with soft shades of
Crimson and cream, magenta and gold,
A treasure more precious than
Diamonds and rubies with
More tranquil bliss
Than the seven seas hold.

And mercy embellishes sweet symmetry
Between bashful benevolence and
Baleful bluster
With all the allure and elegant import
The sun and stars and moon might muster.

Awash with propriety
Drenched in decorum
Lustered by dignity’s first blush of day,
The classes adore you,
The masses adorn you with
Laurels and accolades in disarray.

On point and demure
In both taste and gentility,
Grace is the difference that brightens the way.

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Gentleness

No one should ever need to avert
That tenderness, that sweetness
Of nature, that curry of favor…
That gentleness.

In the calm gentle soul
Rests the mover of mountains,
The prophet of reason,
The emblem of hope.

Bartering discord with steadfast demeanor,
Countering armor with soft eiderdown.
Whispers of wisdom that echo like thunder
Til storm clouds disperse and
The walls tumble down.

Bandits and beasts may
Run roughshod with ignorance
Brandishing bayonets meant to impress.
But souls without kindness are
Doomed to destruction,
For life has no honor
Without gentleness.

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Generosity

Some say the givers lot in life is
Often one of sad submission;
Always give, never take can
Make a lonely wayward waif.

Whether friend or foe or stranger
Reaching out with optimism,
Giving time or toil or riches,
Anything to keep them safe.

But givers have a secret motive
Takers never realize,
One that leads to vast rewards
That can’t be cyphered by their size.

Every gift the giver makes
From bold benevolence and grace
Leaves beads of bounty in its wake
Enfolded in a warm embrace.

The truth of generosity is
Written in the wind.
The more we give
The more we live
To reap its golden dividend.

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Frugality

The frugal individual may
Oft be viewed as miserly
Up to the brink of stinginess
When point and place are misconstrued.

Truth be known, frugality may be
A precious asset with the
Value of economy
Meticulously viewed.

This I want and that I need,
But these I can’t afford.
So, I must skimp and scrape and save
To claim my just reward.

Then, just when I have reached my goal
So resolutely gleaned,
Some unexpected crisis comes along
To smash my dream.

So, I shall strive to live in thrift
And stash my cache away
And let it grow
For no one knows
When comes that rainy day.

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Friendliness

Everyone can use a friend
To be there at the end of day.
A hand to hold,
An ear to bend,
A warm safe-harbor hideaway,

A champion ready to defend
In situations, come what may
With ready-made advice to lend
That answers like a ricochet

To hit the mark,
Lift the darkness
Setting old wounds on the mend,
Making new roads,
Speaking lost codes,
Babble no one comprehends.

Every seeker needs a shoulder
When the weight of worlds descends.
Truth be told, in leaves of gold:
To have a friend
You must be a friend.

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Fortitude

Coach says, “Gotta gut it out, Son.
Show me your grit and will to win.”
“Coach,” I say, “I give a hundred percent.”
Coach says, “I want a hundred and ten.”
Fortitude.

I’ve been knocked down a thousand times
In life’s pugilistic warfare,
But I always rise, although battered and bruised, 
So, assailants be warned and beware.
Attitude.

Fear is a bastard that kills dignity,
But I’ll never yield to his dare.
I’ll muster the mettle to overcome and
Give thanks through the power of prayer.
Gratitude.

Bracing against the impending storm,
Fully aware and adept.
Ready to rebuild again and again.
Promises made.
Promises kept.
Fortitude.  

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Forgiveness

I’ll not ask for your forgiveness
For transgressions on my part.
The edict of exoneration
Only counts if from the heart,
And must be given voluntarily
For motives to have weight,
Else the level of malevolence
Will only tend to escalate.

Can’t expect you to forget, as
Memory casts shadows long
Upon the road to resolution
In the realm of quietude,
And all reprieves need be recorded
In the strains of evensong,
But forgiveness lives in grace and
Offers peace in solitude.

All the pain,
All the bane,
All the strain required to live
And function in a maddening world
Evaporates when we forgive.

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Forbearance

The mastermind of fortitude,
Restraint and self-control
Sees a world of possibilities
In choices to be made.

Committed to consideration
Where all sides get an equal eye
And patience is a sleepy sloth
Who treads the tangle of tolerance.

And all is a matter of attitude,
Of knowing when to halt and hold, 
Of reading the sighs and subtleties
And waiting for the flap to fade.

No need for angry altercation
When respect will edify to
Cut a clearer, broader swath and
Lead the way to deference.

Sweet forbearance, take my hand
When passions winnow high.
Give me pause to find the cause
And softly
     Simplify.

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Focus

Listening is not understanding.
Focus! Damn it! Focus!
Filter out the smoke and mirrors
And the bogus hocus pocus.

Fixate on the target’s center,
Concentrate… Concentrate!
I’ll stay here until you get it right.
Don’t worry. I can wait.

Honing senses razor sharp is
Skill not mastered easily,
But it may yield the needed tools
To stave major catastrophe.

Every nuance, every tinge
To be examined one by one til
Doubt becomes a stranger and
The outcome cannot be undone.

Diagnose to finest pinpoints,
Unafraid of irons that stoke us,
We can douse the fiercest fire
If we can only focus. Focus. 

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Flexibility

It’s okay.
I don’t mind.
Let’s just say, “I’m fine with that.” 
Get it done and
Then move on to
The latest, greatest task at hand.

Pliable to circumstances,
I can play the diplomat to
Find a stronger middle ground
And grow to be the bigger man.

My young Turk self far less resilient,
More resistant to mad change.
My way or the cliched highway,
The mantra of pubescent youth.

But actions and experience
Becomes a tempering tool
And time a patient pundit
Plainly targeted for truth.

Life is plump with problems
And alternatives abound, so
We strive to remain flexible
Until prospects turn around.

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