Spring Is a Wrecking Ball

by Brad Miller

it breaks everything up

new growth from the earth pushes around

neatly ordered lawns and 

nicely planned landscapes

chirping birds wake us from our woes

singing while we are crying

laying eggs like hand grenades to blow apart our gloom

young people flock south if only for a week

to shed their skins and spread their wings as 

young love is tested in the shrapnel from stupidity

if i were a bird i would try to never land

on the soil that is bought/sold and 

where there be monsters

I See, I Saw

by Brad Miller

I saw the best minds of my generation… 

grow old.

Were they really the best? 

Or were they only the ones 

I heard about or learned about?

A lot of my friends had great minds

(while a lot of them didn’t)

but who is to judge?

According to what standard?

I’ve known brilliant leaders capable of very dim ideas.

Had some pretty dumb buddies step up to confront bullies,

oppose violence, and exude excellence in thinking

and compassion toward others when they were put to the test.

They all had the best minds at the right times.

But, as stated earlier, they all have grown old, as I.

My generation’s gifts to future minds are our examples,

the lived testimony to what is possible.

Even though the stories didn’t always make the news,

the “news” itself is as old as the progress of civilization.

Those best minds made an indelible mark in their own circles.

Seeding the culture and folklore

of tomorrow’s gardens of thought.