He carries the weight of his family's name,
A burden shared, yet borne alone in pain,
Expectations high, a path to claim,
Fear of failure's sting, fear of success's flame.

His heart beats with the weight of others' deeds,
He takes the blame, while hiding his own needs,
A selfless soul, with emotions unspoke,
Shining dimly, in the dark of every cloak.

In silence, he seeks attention's gentle gaze,
His heart conveys the depth of his unspoken ways,
A longing for understanding, for someone to hear,
To break the chains of expectation, and wipe away his fear.

His parents' hopes, a heavy load to bear,
A weight that presses, a heart that's aware,
Of every step, every move, every choice,
A life lived under scrutiny, a constant, anxious voice.

Yet, in his silence, there's a story untold,
Of struggles faced, of battles bold,
A tale of resilience, of strength untapped,
A hero's heart, though worn and weary, still intact.

In the depths of his soul, a fire burns bright,
A flame that flickers, with every step of the night,
A desire to be seen, to be heard, to be known,
To shed the weight of expectations, and find his own way home.

there are those
that grab ahold
as well as those
that let it go
there really is
no way to know
how or when
the wind will blow

there are those
who know to cope
with the mess
that this life throws
and also those
out of control
who paddle against
the river's flow

there are those
that hold out hope
and then those
against the ropes
who wrestle with
themselves alone
with the easy come
easy go

with open eyes
and open heart
do you know
which one you are

you could be these
you could be those
honestly
do you know

You are the sparrow, or the one who oversees.
You are the sea worm — the one that bottom-feeds.
You are the urchin which waves could never crash.
You are the person whose feelings will never last.

You are the yeti, whose hand is very grand.
You are the teddy, soft as white sand.
You are all things, and no things, all at once.
You are the heartbeat whose race cannot be won.

"What would people think?"
"Nothing."
"Do you care or even think about them?
Do you have anything to blame?"
"They have their own jobs to do,
Just like you."

"Judging you from different frames,
'They' is just part of your brain."

flesh became the silent cathedral
who whispers of bread.

the child's eyes
as black a veil as the Gaza night
have not tasted hope
                                                            ­            
and the multitude of the thin, faces sallow,
ghost the empty cooking pots
that offer Lilies

when hunger falls heavy
the moment before a scream
the sorrow sparrows grieve
what hell waits softly with silent breath.

once upon a time in the Holyland
the earth forgot to morn
and silence wrote the ending.

the new dark age
heart goes out
world goes up
all due to a love of concrete
and iron indignities

buildings grown in the heartland
steel your future
wrap your face in a foreign flag
make it medieval
so fear and superstition
can live on each floor

from above the cityscape
blueprints of a pinball machine
a train to nowhere
like candles on a cake
that will burn someday
when least expected

ladies against the glass
of morning commutes
show too much cleavage
to people on Sunday
gentlemen with their death sticks
conjure the factory smoke
poisoning a life of leisure
these infinite vistas
continue to rise
elevation well in hand
stitched together
but growing apart

the biomechanical soul
a species out of control
mother solitude and her
modern failures
take the stairs to the roof of her mouth
progress leaves an echo
her final words are
empty, foreboding
and full of lead