a little money like death

rain

just

says

one

word

over

and

over

-

I have a little money in my pocket

not enough

it smells like sweat

like meat gone bad

my little money smells like death

-

Grandchild. She’s only just new,

even crawling is yet a ways off,

and so she wins me by just being herself.

Dark hair, dark eyes, and a flash of a smile.

Here. Now. In this family.

-

james lee jobe 

If we could see the whole truth of any situation, our only response would be one of compassion.

Mingyur Rinpoche

Common sense is not so common.

Voltaire

The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden of dissatisfaction. 

Allen Ginsberg

Link: Wetland, a poem by francine j. harris

Link: Angel, a poem by Angela Jackson 

Sonny Rollins Quartet, When Your Lover Has Gone 

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jlj