holding on to me

why is life sad? for one thing, i always seem to be on the way and never get there. the now usually escapes me; living in my head.  pain itself seems to happen on a schedule all its own, never consulting me about times of arrival.

i don’t want to be seen as a complainer.  but the alternative is to never speak.  how do you make happy without sad?  intelligence is going to be relative, so i only look as far as my own beginnings.  world seems to be in a rather large chaotic flux.  how do you help something that won’t sit still?

each day is supposed to be THE day, where i finally follow the best diet, sing the best songs, live the best dreams.  back burners pile up, and part of me keeps wondering what a stove is for…. how do i stay sane when cooking is all about making something fit for conditions; when it is all about change.

i try to muddle along and keep things simple.  then part of me tangles it all up.  complexity becomes a goal rather than fostering simple hopes in a direct result.  and even though i know it is better to stay silent, i worry onward in a swamp of words.  no closer to where i want to be…. which is what?  so i wake up and get up.  make coffee because that is what you do.  sit in a favorite chair, because something must be selected.  what i want is to not make the same mistakes.

love for me, is in not holding grudges.  poison to the soul, better to have a clean slate. i do like fixing things, probably because that’s what dad did.  no matter where i have been in life, the mechanic is a person respected.  in computing, it’s called trouble shooting.  the same thing…. you narrow down the probabilities and twist a wrench just so.  invention and creation also part of the puzzle. 

repetition.  to get lost in repeating.  yet rhythm is a blessing in its own way.  i note lives and their paths.  for the most part, it is the time i have spent at rest homes that gave me the most grief and the most hope.  when people are weak, they can be happy you are strong.

i don’t want to be strong, but seems i have had no choice.  even asking for help goes against some fundamental belief or creed that … if not part of me, is glued on pretty tight.  see i know that the neighbor lady feels ok to knock on my door if she needs an onion.  or her husband knocks if she needs some aspirin.  but i don’t knock on any doors. 

it is just that i am happy i got the plants watered yesterday.  i am glad i will be able to get the carpets cleaned for only $45.  i am sad that a friend at church has cancer.  she is a teacher and i understand teachers the best.  mainly i think it is because we all have dents in our heads, from beating them against too many walls.  yet my time working at teaching was only a small part of an extremely varied resume.  always moving on.

always on the way to something.  i get practical and then think the only real destination is death.  and that isn’t a particularly warming consideration.  because i still haven’t figured out if it’s more comforting to think about life going into simply nothing.  or is it better to think of life as never ending.  i could never decide.  can never decide.  when i do decide, it doesn’t help in any way.

the daily work to maintain strength.  that is what i circle on.  it is dismaying to see that being weak is the better social option.  working together is the better answer… for the soul.   not that being alone is bad, but maybe is unnecessary.  they say everybody has their demons and angels.  mine have always been silent, standing in horror and misunderstanding…. while i fight myself.  i have learned that finality is not always appropriate.

how much coffee does it take to start the day? enough so i can sit and begin a gradual awakening.  it is that parcel of time where back burners don’t matter.  all that matters is i can still laugh at myself, wanting to be important. waiting to be important.

how does the spirit fly? first you have to look up, then have to realize there is ground and air. happy and sad. life and death. the play of opposites with our own personal pendulums, beating out time. and for me, that time is defined by the rest. by the in between. by the moment you look down, and don’t even remember flapping your wings.

stacked and fueled

it feels like the end of the world was yesterday
and today doesn’t know what to be
if feels like i forgot who i am
but doesn’t matter because who is counting, anyway?
feels like nothing will go right
so right has to be wrong
but then what became of wrong?
wrong is the nothing
mired in forgetful nonsense
on the edge of the universe….

it feels like a swirl of chaos has captured my feet
and i have no knees left to pray
it feels like everything i liked is a shadow of stupidity
like the next pass is the last chance
and no ring is going to fix this ride….

it feels like i told you a million times
…life is what you make it
but what if we run out of legos?
there is cream for the coffee
there is coffee for the coffee
roof is not leaking for a change
and i ran out of excuses

in the dark
overnight
life is a swirling vortex of might-have-beens
it feels like the last scoop of ice cream
that’s not even homemade

it feels like i will beat every demon
because there aren’t any demons
it is all here
all an essence of

just me
sitting in my chair wondering
why i bother to hope

and what has hope done to kill
action
it all turns around right
thank God for a Keel
i am not ashamed and some day
living with that will count

outside of how everyone feels…
best is yet to come
right around the corner we have deliverance
but it’s not mystery
it’s not something never seen before

repetitive betterment
it’s the mundane
the everyday wade through piles
of memories and designed regrets
it feels like no amount of wishing

ever got me more wishes

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never seen kabam

i’m not going to hate myself anymore
life gives me lemons
i’ll squish and leave at your door

for the party is calling
the new wave is done
and next time i’m falling
i’ll hit wider things than the sun

hey at the apex
ground to the top
there’s a bigger notion
on hippity hop hop

the spy is dead
the ground is worried
for no one rests their head
no, not anymore…..anymore

find me in your truth
and i’ll hold every door
cut across what it’s not even for

dying in a night
for living in the dark
the bright signs of redeemed

never meant that much to me
i’ll take my lumps
a few sugars at a time

mix them up with lemons
you bring the lime

and we’ll toast
“despite it all!” for all
has been the worst

days around me crawl
forever bursts
and never hurts

do not hold it all inside
they say
but where to put the moat?
i seldom ever gloat

come take me home and home
to me is where someone left smiles
to be
written on and purged
beside the barest urge
of opulence

these rule the beast
and we might talk him dead

best is best
and seldom do the best
forget their head?

their skirt
their hope to muddle through
around

all sound and wary day!
oh merry say!
i was confused
but not from paths
oh no
never –it is the rest
(the rest of them, the THEY!)
not getting how the sun

a sun it never sets!

it smashes through
time into dark of second best
of wide a mark and never due

take 10 worries as you like
the morning strikes!
a fit holds hundreds tight
i knew it all

but chose to see in only
smallest doses –rich mediocrity!
no sadness borne for good or end

stand back my friend!
i’m coming through!
if i should step on lemons
slip and slide
oh my we’ll merely make a pie
and bury i and u

sing for dessert
a final verse
to laugh until all crying’s done
we could be worse

it is enough
enough is me
will settle for the thought
spun and looked upon

don’t break the sun!
it cracks posterity

life simply was
and all we have are pockets full
of maybe and because

well one last thing
i always thought the hope for king
was poor
and poor was sad
down to my very bones
i have this ache

that tells me tomorrow is new

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say it isn’t grow

that’s an interesting thought
person, place, or thing (noun)
the identification of

reality?
yet the malady is not a verb
it isn’t the action or being acted upon
it becomes a thing

does making a cold
a fever
the noun
something to HAVE

does that create a more generalized
acceptance of diagnosis?

then moved onto people themselves
being labeled after their malady
you are a diabetic
you are mentally ill
you are autistic

acceptance of a state
as a thing

a thing you can HAVE
grasp
keep
control?
or a thing to be
…… prejudgment?

you can have a fever
but you are not a fever
you can have a headache
but you are not a headache
(well, some of us are)

a symptom you have
a disease
used to be that it was something to have
but now more and more you are
the thing that inflicts

a finality to being the illness
it is not being acted UPON
it is stasis
a part of consequence
a finality of inevitability
determined by medicine (how powerful
do we want body fixers to BE)

does that mean no longer
a human WITH
a fever
a cold
headache

you are a fever
you are a headache…..
(well that can happen)

perhaps we let language decide too many things

perhaps a person, place, and thing
should remain

more of the reality

i have a need (to write, to live)
or is need something
that has me
that acts upon me?

is fear something you have
or is fear something that has you?

a fear of
the fear of
gripped by fear

always a struggle
this thing, language

yet it is not a thing
it is something we do
to one another?

or something
that molds a collective vision
language is direction

are we going the right way
one of these things is not like the other
differentiation
identification of good
warding of bad

when it comes to
noun verb adjective adverb
structure created to be ignored

good will to man
inclusive fitness…. term used for ants
thinking best for the self
or best for the whole

in language have we become problematic
how much is said without saying anything

i am fear
i am chances

going forward is staying in place
some part of you has to stay in place
to remember

the best way to be found is to sit still
but who is looking
but who is hunting

who is need?

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