Tag: poems

I put my hand on her shoulder.

What if she really doesn’t need me as much as I think she does?

She continues washing without looking at me.

She was here long before me and hopefully long after I’m gone, I continue to myself.

I walk away and continue about my unproductive day.

I return to find her in the room not immediately noticing she just got

off and upsetting call about a man who is coming to pass.

I tried to stay ajar from the ordeal as I suspected what would happen,

helping up close but holding my distance within.

But the moments are coming to pass, so I hold my tongue and listen in

Solemn Silence.

Then I think: Of course she doesn’t need me as much as I think. I’m in the presence of a woman

who has won Heaven time and again through her actions and Faith alone.

She’ll be just fine.

The last of 25 is gone now, the time for 26 is here.

The year of the lock-in and quantum leaps.

A new hope has arrived,

old friends are back and finally working

synergistically.

The fire is burning

now, no longer

just embers.

Carpe Diem is here…

There are billions of us on our planet,

but only a handful, maybe only one

other, who cares whether

we

wake up in the morning

or

die in a car accident;

Whether we made it to our

destination, and

the time they should expect our return

to share a warm dinner.

These people might not always understand

us, they might argue with us,

and get angry at us,

but

when we lay our heads

to bed, we know they care.

Only these few, in this

vast world of ours.

So, why not stick around them?

Experience life with them

as a team.

The billions never would or could.

Old man’s birthday, would be

75 today.

Wish I could sing him

Happy Birthday

how we used to around

the round table

with the cake, candles,

and ice-cream.

Watch a movie in the small

living room next to the laundry,

but now I live in the times

I write about

Him.

We were already in

the Shire

all along.

We were already in the

Samurai

village Algren went back to.

Life was already the best it could have

ever been.

Right there and nowhere

else.

Bugs and critters again,

full moon, partially clear skies

under a streetlight.

I used to dream about getting on a

rocket ship to sail the night sky

amongst the stars,

but it is pleasant enough to

look at the night sky from

down here in the mountains.

One of the clouds looks like a

great big white heart,

the kind one draws when

one is a child.

Now a strange face appears,

like Palpatine.

It all moves away now in a celestial

good-bye

with lots of funny faces.

I want to hike up the mountain

in the dead of the misty fog

and find you there amongst the

trees and the dirt road

close to the tower.

Way up there, find you close to the sky

where you really are.

Where you really are is always in my

head, but up there in the creeping

solitude of the mountain,

I feel I could find your spirit

where only I could see you

without violating the laws of

the

Living and the Dead.

If only it could be so…

I stare at the monumental task

that stands before me, looking at me

from above, from below,

from right to left.

I don’t have the proper tools to

get this done in a reasonable time,

so I stand there with a torch and scraper.

Fingers raw with so much peeling

the skin off the walls: three layers by hand.

This indeed has been the Wall of Patience.

It is hell, it is virtue.

If you come here wanting to finish in one day

you will be humbled by hard work.

Like punishment you will feel it,

but by God it better be worth it.

All that work.

Those that do it shall be blessed with eternal satisfaction.

If individuals blunder, society is no different.

It blunders en masse, but what can one do?

For one is locked in this system with few,

if any alternatives but to integrate oneself.

Integrate and play the system from within

until a better way comes along.

Change is always around the corner.

Could take five minutes or three years.

The thing about change is that it’s

hard to become aware of it until one is in the

grips of it.

And so, the edge rests on one’s ability to catch it, the

spinning of time, before

it ensnares one in its newest absurdity.

And there it came, the moment, the opportunity I had

been waiting for, the change needed.

Unexpected, out of the blue, not thinking

about it.

That is how and when God operates.

It is He, it is the Cosmos that have

written everything down in the

Book of Destiny,

buried underneath the fabric of

the Earth: home of Man.

In the grip of life the fight continues.