I haven’t the words
Nor strength to stand
Any more
Of this illusion
Sealed in spit
And sketched by hand
Our world is done
What courage has man?
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I haven’t the words
Nor strength to stand
Any more
Of this illusion
Sealed in spit
And sketched by hand
Our world is done
What courage has man?
Every morning
theres’s a woman
pruning bush, or
a bush pruning
woman, whether or not
either is real to me
it’s real to her,
that rose bush
pruned, green grass
now rising wet
in the morning dew
of chimney’s now
smoking, standing
in line at the DMV
with the DUI
unpaid, scratching lotto
old men lifting hats
scratching heads,
wondering like children
where all that hair
goes when it falls out
and if there’ll be
enough water
for the grass, in
the coming July drought,
no matter, still
does the woman prune
as the old me croon—
each mourning.
After a good, long day of self reliance, sleep, and in depth personal analysis, I am left with this thought.
What you do from here on out is your own cross to bear.
Though like a broken record I’ve continued to circle in place.
But why?
Einstein said, “insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”
Well, though I agree I’m no Einstein, I’m not insane, I’m just a bit of a slow learner.
See, the hardest pattern to break isn’t necessarily the pattern but the mission so to speak.
We’re all on our own personal mission, aren’t we?
And whether or not we choose to accept it, it exists.
It’s taken many years through trial and error, deliberation, and self reliance to understand.
Carole King said, “you’ve got to get up every morning with a smile on your face and show the world all the love in your heart…”
Carole also had two children by the time of her divorce and continued to create with love and compassion.
So what’s my personal mission? And what’s yours?
Will we rise tomorrow with faith and gratitude in our hearts or repeat the same patterns that no longer serve us?
Olmec said, “the choices are yours and yours alone.”
But of course we all need a few humorous anecdotes to help us get through.
And I will, as will you.
Tomorrow, reach a little further than you did today. Try something new and show the world the love in your heart. The choices are yours.
And I’ve built my cross, one which I’m willing to bear.
It’s a heavy son of a gun, but I assure you I’ll be walking, hand over foot—that which does not kill us, makes us stronger— like Nietzsche once said.
A sweet chorus of birds
lingers in the air, as
the morning wains on
expectantly
that old dog bark
rings heavy on my mind.
Pulling the covers overhead, thinking
the day can—and most certainly will—wait for me today.
My feet are sore
and my heart is silent.
I’ll stand when I’m ready, till then
I’ll snore along till noon.
What’ll it be
said the man
on the stand
to the reflection
looking very grim
sunken eyes
of redemption
come on come on
choose our next addiction
this time though
be aware
aware of my remission
I know I know
what fun is there in that
hell why don’t we find out
it’s either or perhaps
I’ve given you the right
that now I’m taking back
the will to fight the urge
I know that’s what I lack
so taking down the mirror
with no one staring back
the man poured the reflection
with ice into his glass
he calmly took a sip
one more than another
and when the glass was empty
to him it did not bother
just one more
thought the man
understanding his reflection
it’s up to you to choose
affliction or redemption.
No matter how much
people want you to believe
something is of great importance
remember that it’s still
just a bunch of people
standing around
shuffling their feet
trying to look important.
If you stand for a cause,
stand with it.
Don’t claim it as your own.
Be present.
Be aware.
But most of all
be selfless in the eyes of hate.
And when you stand,
stand with love.