Duvall O'Steen - New Headshots from the amazing Paul Greco Photography. A more serious side here. Gritty New York Drama shot. The poetry in this one is daring you not to read it!

Me Time

Today was delightful.  I finally had some downtime. A full day without so much to do.  Me time. Time to take stock, step off the ride of life and reflect a bit. The noise of my barking To Do list falling to a faint far-away buzz. I am smiling more than I have in months.

Amazing how refreshing a simple day without obligations can be.

It got me thinking...

How much of my life is lived genuinely for me? Do I prioritize duties and obligations over my own joys, desires, goals?  What IF I spent more time doing nothing?  I wonder...

There's a story inside me
a glory
yet to be fulfilled
an explosion of sheer beauty
treasure
uncovering a pristine truth
so detailed,
so refined,
it sparkles like a gemstone
as facets of my mind
spark within my heart
like lightning bugs that dance,
shaking the cocktail of my soul,
piercing precisely to the core,
an excavation and removal of who I was before.

There's a story inside me
that's brewing
an aging vintage
molded, dusty, torn
deformed from years of storage and abuse;
it's shaking loose the old familiar chains,
like a sprout, it's busting through
a blossom on the verge,
a star's initial burst.
If I stop the go-see- do
and quiet ushers in,
there's a new and deeper listening,
silence becomes my friend,
my ears make out a melody
that's always been  humming
close to the horizon of my consciousness,
a glimpse of genius
draws me in
and I recognize,
with great surprise,
my own breath on the wind.
My every smile is singing
as chapter one begins.

Mortal Mystery

Yet another shooting today.

Not in a school this time, but still, a child was shot and is critically fighting for his life.

What has happened to us? How did we get here? When did LIFE become so de-valued? It is the single most precious thing we have. All of us. Without it, we have nothing.

How do we not see ourselves in another? THIS is what baffles me. THIS is what motivated my response to gun violence... I share it here in fully as we cannot partially respond to this gun violence issue. Life is worth fighting for.

MORTAL MYSTERY

What is it 

in you

that cannot see 

Me?

That does not recognize the familiarity 

of my tears, my needs, my eyes?

How can you not smell my love,

the floral fragrance I whisper to this world,

my smile a mighty atomizer

spewing pleasure through my teeth 

as beautiful truths come bursting forth. 

Is there no value in you

that you cannot value me?

Are you lacking certain bones or muscles that pump your heart

to keep it soft and steady, alive?

Is your soul so hidden in your pinky toe

that you do not know

that we are kin

Sisters in sisterhood

Brothers in brotherhood

Partners in being 

Homo sapien?

Journeying in lock step 

on a planet racing toward extinction?

Are you so convinced of difference 

that you cannot spot the evidence 

of sameness all around you?

Do you hunger? Do you cry?

Does your left ear itch when you fly? Like mine?

Have you ever tried to taste the rain?

Or catch a bubble in your hand?

I wonder if you can.

If you have the capacity 

to see my vulnerability 

and its undeniable resemblance 

to your own. 

When you hold your lover's hand,

does it paint your cheeks like mine?

Does your mother's face bring swirling thoughts, memories, scars to mind?

Perhaps it is the viewfinder 

you look through

that distorts your vision 

blurs your judgment as you aim,

my nose transformed into a bullseye 

as your finger strokes the trigger

stoking up the flames inside your mind

muddying the watery weak excuses 

that you claim 

grant you some kind of permission 

to do the unspeakable

Here and Now.

Why do I sense fear 

in your bloodshot eyes?

As you pose in your mock state of strength?

Could it be that you are afraid of unarmed me?

Your power-gun nothing but a mask

to hide the blackest blasts

of your inner shame?

Does your eyelid know my name?

That quiver in your palm,

perhaps it's picking up the rhythm of my pulse

our heartbeats quickened 

by the fatal proximity of an early grave.

What score will you celebrate today?

As my final breath blends with yours

the air we share an equalizer,

our need for it the same.

Have you no burning in that smoking fingertip?

No chapping of your grimly parted lips?

No resonance within your vocal chords that vibrate just like mine

as you chant your victory cry

while I whimper my last words?

You see me as an apple in those orange eyes of yours

but surprise!

We are family

fruit from a familiar tree of DNA. 

You're shooting off my nose

to spite our collective human face. 

Duvall O’Steen ©2016