edward : Beau Sia


  Posted on September 22, 2014 at 5:46 am

my paper jetpack
had run out of fuel.

I was a hustler living the surface
of an edgy fantasy,
pushing poems on patrons
in photocopied form five bucks
a piece.

your hard working hands saw soft hunger
and broke off half the loaf
into my metaphorical fingers.

your give gave me more rope for climbing.
your help had my stomach transforming for brain.
your eyes saw a stranger despairing
and calmed his raging lost.

I never mention how inspiring you are
in interviews. how your actions remind me
to unshackle what’s generous.
those nights in the bar,
your hand without judgment,

inspires more in me
when the young poet walks into today.

when the ask on the street is clear as song.

when the student is short on listeners.

thank you for your gift.
for living another example I turn to
when I imagine my pockets empty.

even if it’s 15 cents. even if it’s
30 minutes. even if it’s a
short lesson I learned the first time
I toured europe,
you helped me see how it’s not
all mine to hold.

that it grows who I am
to give it.

your example contributes
to the whole, thank you for always
showing love
and what it means to
actually do so.

thank you for the gentle smile
that helps open me to the rain.

I carry it forward,
I hum a simpler tune.

the thanks is not enough,
for tonight it’ll do.

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