A Tale of Two Cities—Broken from Birth

People were always

Dying to get in, or

Dying to get out.

Nobody ever wanted

To be where they were—

And it was always that way—

It was A Tale of Two Cities.

Cruel and hostile, broken

From birth—The bread

When shared, had long since spoiled.

So left were the people’s

Disgruntled denial, who’d sacrifice

Even their own mothers love—for lies—

Because, the truth was tough

and too hard to swallow.

And it was never their fault.

But neither was it His.

What is, and is not necessary—a dialogue.

Whatever’s in my head, is there because I put it there.

It’s there because I allow it to be.

Whatever’s in yours, is yours—I’ve no idea, nor should.

If you’re curious, you may ask and I may tell you whatever’s in my head.

I may not, though that is up to me, as it is equally up to you.

So if and when I seem distant, it’s only because I’m having an internal debate on which to share.

I’m deliberately choosing words which may or may not have an impact on your own definition of me—of you.

Whatever’s in my head may change, in fact, depending on your point of view, so tread however you will when speaking, knowing that—

Whatever’s in your head, is there because we put it there.

And we being a positive or a negative really doesn’t matter.

What matters is, matter of factly null and void, more likely because,

whatever’s in your head, is there because you put it there.

It’s there because it is, if it wasn’t then, well, we wouldn’t be having this discussion with ourselves to begin with.

See. When two people interact or share in a discussion, it’s not simply a yes or no dialogue.

It’s not simply an A and B conversation but rather an (A,(B)) + (C,(D)) process of beliefs which often can be tricky or seem unfair.

And the more you think about it, the less there is to say, because, more times than not it’s what we don’t say that often really matters.

Perhaps I haven’t found the correct words, or perhaps I’m overthinking, perhaps I’m just learning how to communicate all together on a daily.

It’s like casting a line of bate to water. If the intended fish decides to bite, then it’s fair game, but when the intended fish is forced to bite, which for lack of a better metaphor, one can’t exactly force a fish to bite, then there’s an unfair advantage.

The bate is not merely physical bate, but encompasses the mind from which it’s cast with hope, fear, and determination—etc and so on.

The fish may rationalize it’s right to choose feast or famine, ultimately accepting it’s fate regardless of the line cast, by choice of internal and external response, which leads me back to my original point being…

Whatever’s in my head, is there because I put it there.

It’s there because I’ve reserved a rationality for it, and, regardless of the outcome, it’s necessary solely to me.

Further more, what’s necessary to me—perhaps the real point here—is not, nor should be expected to be necessary to you.

Any questions?

Hot and Wild

I don’t need a fan

or a fawn, I need a fire—

Hot and Wild—black as coal,

as clean as a diamond

dazzling

in the mud of my soul.

Self Portrait, West Haven CT, `2013

for richer or poorer

I would rather be

a poor man

with a rich soul,

than a rich man

with a poor heart.

Topanga Beach. October, 2020

The Devil to one is God to another.

The Devil to one

is God to another.

It’s a cycle continued

that is, until

we stop looking to the sky,

stop burying our trauma,

and look our neighbor

dead in the eye,

without retaliation or judgement

and listen, to one another’s heart

which beats to the same rhythm

as a newborn babe

that is, until

birth begins

its earthly decay.

A message from that time I cut myself off from the world. (circa 2009)

What I lost in my depression

What developed over time

Who grew within my absence

Who called but couldn’t find

The person who they once knew

Who only wished to die

Where deep within my fortress

Of solitude did I

Salute them in their merit

Who tried from time to time

To free me from my burden

Which words could not describe

Though even in my heartache

I never told a lie

But took pride in them knowing

Their strength I too could find

That’s why I keep them with me

Past lovers, friends, and my

Gratitude for suffering

This awfully fragile mind

Grown with understanding

Like fruit picked from a vine

I’m grounded by their blessings

And grateful for this life

The underlying message

Before you fear the story

Or judge the storyteller

Look at the period in time

The story told was written

To fully understand

Without pride or prejudice

The underlying message

Student Teacher

Billy stood as he was told

and made all the uniformed gestures

he was taught before he could ride a bike.

Then he began

“I pledge allegiance

To the flag

Of the United States of Hypocrisy…”

And so went the rest of the lines

in unison with his class.

Then before lunchtime Billy’s teacher

pulled him aside, in a motherly fashion

and asked, “is everything o.k. Billy?”

“Yes,” he told her, politely, like he so often spoke.

“Do you know what that word means?” She asked.

“What word?” Billy questioned, counting his quarters.

“Hypocrisy,” she said, warmly, meeting Billy’s eye line.

“No,” he admitted.

“Then where did you hear it?”

“I can’t remember,” he admitted further.

“Well, it means,” she began but noticing Billy’s fidgeting,

stopped herself and let him get back in line.

The next day when the class rose

and made all the uniformed gestures

they were taught before they knew what they meant

Billy’s teacher watched as he spoke the Pledge Of Allegiance

in unison with the rest of the class.

“I pledge allegiance

To the flag

Of the United States of America…”

Billy didn’t miss a beat that day and surprisingly

they served pizza for lunch,

it was his favorite.

Blossom From Within

No one holds the answer

For the answer’s in the past

And the present’s always fleeting

Seems like nothing ever lasts

So hold strong for the future

The answer will unfold

Like mud beneath the lotus

Blossom and you’ll know