cocoon of newer days

synopsis:  saved stuff and stored stuff is only a pain.  we are more than THINGS.  there is an evaluation of the past, that is better left unevaluated.  who do you love?

going through the task
of sorting saved items
i recall how my grandmother
tied up christmas cards
in bundles each year
and placed them neatly
in a trunk….

my christmas cards are scattered
in piles of other mail
never properly sorted and stored
mounds of paper i have no idea
what to do with

it just grows
as i feel more helpless to
understand the need

so sorting through things
the box of old mail stares at me
and i don’t want to put my brain through
the torture
and i couldn’t tell you
why…. except that i see it all
as the waste of time it is…
i don’t want to go backwards

everything touched is a memory, visited
things stored because
humans like me
have inherited
a twisted sense of value

even with the knowledge
that on my demise
everything will go in the trash

mostly i find a lot of pain
in the saved items
the one picture of the two kids together
the paint brushes that belonged to my mother
the coffee can of perfectly good lightbulbs
that i switched out for better lightbulbs…

for some reason i have my grandmother’s
dentures and eyeglasses
that were among her things
when her house was dissolved
all sources of pain

who am i, anyway?
i do not want to save anything
i want to save myself
i want to send it all to the trash now
and be a different sort of human

yet i loved the saving-creature that she was
i don’t want to BE that
memories haunt enough, thank you very much

strung out in the dining room
it is a clutter of the past
an inability to let go
a part of me that thinks all
this …crap! call it what it is…
is somehow a part of myself….

yet is it?
you want to call this the sin of hoarding
hoarder! you terrible beast!
but i see it as being a little lost
between what is expected of one single human
this looming pile of expectations

….and what i expect of myself

it is where two ways meet
and my way is going to be wrong to others
no matter
which one i choose

does anyone want some slightly chipped good china
and silverware?
i will never throw a formal dinner party
or keep curios in a cabinet
that is part of a life left behind

all it really is to me
is the memory of taking out the good china
and silver
to set tables for dinner parties where i
was ignored and seen as a bother
the black sheep?
the one who judged things differently

you are supposed to pass it all down to the children
but i don’t want to saddle my children with this
i want my children to be happy
and have parties with red plastic cups
and real friends…..

i want to bury this past
because there is something wrong
with the mounds and mounds of pretension
there is something wrong about it that is much greater
than any wrong of hoarding

any wrong that settles on my heart
within these piles of stuff
these things i keep as some sort of duty
to remind myself that i was never good enough
never blessed enough to be the person
any parent could be proud of….

is all a path of the me i did not become
did i fall short?
i suppose… but thing is, i didn’t want that life
i wanted a life where i could plant a few flowers
find some beauty
even if none saw beauty in me
i always saw life as exploring other paths
finding ways that make sense

don’t give her anything of value!
she will just sell it for drugs!
goes to show how little anyone knew of me
how they don’t understand
how i needed to explore
because i knew you all were lying
and my reality needed a little better foundation

money means nothing to me, that’s true
but i’ve been blessed to have it mean nothing
i know that as well

i know those who have to scrape for a living
do not have that luxury
i know i’ve always walked with a safety net
it makes me cry all the more
for those who haven’t

what does the future hold?

a china plate does not make you a better person
what makes you a better person is
sharing what you have
and calling it good

what makes you a better person
is going online and investigating what china IS

old bones
that’s all it is
those bones were my cocoon
shed a long time ago
for something more flexible
and i’m no butterfly
am a being stuck with shredded skin
piles of absolutism that represent
an existence i rejected
even more thoroughly
than it rejected me

it sits in the dining room
scattered and waiting for judgement
and i take the time to write
putting off the inevitable

i’m a being … human BEING
stuck with all these THINGS
because i am conflicted over necessity
i am still confused as to why the adults of my youth
did not see a little better into where
all their treasured norms lead

i am a human being
flawed but also a little proud
that i’m the one with experience
and i am the one who is still alive!
take that! anyone who thought
black was a bad shade of wool!
what is freedom?
still reaching for an existence
outside of what i was told to be…
only because answers had to be a little more

i know there is a dependency
one thing builds upon another
if there is no place for me in this world
by God i will create one
life is too short
love is only as good as its master

my heart cries bitter tears
thinking of all the past left behind
turning to this task that can’t be put off any longer…
they really ARE bitter
it’s more than heavy sighs
it’s considering how long my strides
have been my own
it is thinking about how i’m seen
and how i manipulate that
to better understand the conclusions of others
all my doing
yes, i suppose i can’t refute that

pray for me, please!
pray for me and my stumbling
desire for my own brand of wisdom
the past fell short
fell SO short
bone plates, really???? what were those minds thinking?
you all decided to mold bones into plates, because that made you WHAT?

THEIR past fell short
her existence was not saved by bundles
of christmas cards
when all she wanted was a good friend…

i was that much
and now contemplating what i could possibly owe to the past
versus what i owe myself


Do you know my God?

do you know my God?
the one i formed
and built
and breathed
the quiet design
of absolute security…

do you know my God?
beyond the worthless gifts
beyond the biggest waves
conviction brings?
do you know my God…

there is no condemnation
only choice
there is no suffered consequence
only metered voice
and in the delve
the widest cut
my God resides, and knows

that all your petty differences
are less than any wind that blows…

for every one who thinks they’re best
the best, oh best! of every best
i dare you to think one more time
and see the smiles that graced each fall
see the nature of it all….

do you know my God?
i wonder how
to show you just how small we are
to magnify your fear
until you see the nature of its pain
i’ve known you all along
so set in stone … but see i am the one
who let it go

let it go

i am the one
i am the one who found life sweet and still…

do you know my God?


Peace from Peace

*a disclaimer: when writing on matters of faith, it is important for me to not infringe on the beliefs or thoughts of others. so if you are of a different faith or frame of mind, please do not take offense. and if gain something, all the better. i don’t pretend to be one that knows. but i do watch*

the waiting for Christmas
remember when we had the little calendars
and opened a paper door for each day
in anticipation
for getting the best toys
the newest and brightest
in the Sears catalog
we were allowed one toy each Christmas
and sometimes did not get the hoped for
the wished-for
it was either too expensive
or grandmother decided it was not
a good kind of toy to have
and of course we received a lot of socks
a lot of clothes…
i don’t recall looking forward to that much

but Advent is a different sort of “looking forward”
we light a new candle each week
in anticipation of the best gift of all…
Peace on Earth, Good Will to Man
the gift of Jesus
the birth of a new philosophy
a philosophy of kindness
sometimes the results are not what we hope-for
the peace we want is too expensive
or the kindness and love we want to give
is appreciated about as much as a pair of socks…

but that philosophy
that idea of peace, and good will to man
that lives on
because somebody took a stand

Jesus took a stand

and we are celebrating his birth
but it’s really the birth of ourselves
the birth of a movement
birth of a new and better kind of people
or at least, we hope so…

do unto others as you would have them do unto you
that doesn’t mean give something so that you can get something
that doesn’t mean put money in the offering plate
because riches and money will then come back to you
doesn’t work that way

a gift is not a gift
unless there are no strings attached
no necessity of reciprocation

and the gift of Jesus is just that
no strings attached

Advent is a time of looking forward
but we also look back
back to the beginning of a new type of people
a new philosophy
one that involves love and understanding
not the consumption within ourselves

the beauty of this gift, that Jesus gave to us
is that peace on Earth grows from peace

see, as a child
i didn’t appreciate clothes, socks very much
the little tubes of toothpaste i got in my Christmas stocking
but i look back at that
and what i remember the most
is how loved and cared-for i was

our hopes for peace on earth might seem very distant sometimes
like with the shooting in california this past week
we form a type of collective despair
we mourn for those killed, but we also mourn for the spirit of the shooters
we mourn for the loss of understanding

yet a part of that understanding
is knowing that the gift
the gift that Jesus gave is very real

peace grows from peace

and peace on earth IS possible
just have to want it enough
though sometimes it might seem like
those undesired clothes and socks under the Christmas tree

Advent appears to be circular…a circular thing
and here we are back again
lighting the same candles
saying the same prayers

but it’s not
it’s not circular
each day is a new day
each season a new season belonging to itself
and we don’t know what the future is going to bring…
how can we know?

but we can know what we ourselves are going to give…
that part of ourselves dedicated to love and peace

to create a world of more peace
and it’s possible because we already have done so
in so many ways

even though that work seems to be never finished
never completed
that doesn’t mean we lose heart
because we’ll get there eventually
it’s closer than you think
and Peace on Earth, Good Will to Man
is a real thing
a very real gift that God has given to all of mankind

Peace grows from Peace

the gift Jesus gave to us is already wrapped
it’s wrapped and under the tree

a way of life
a way of kindness

and that is what we celebrate
on this Advent season

war of the petunias

a beautiful day out
flowers happy
birds singing
i have my coffee
and creamer

with few aches and pains
a small nag between the shoulder blades

what did i ponder?
oh if love was love
when you had no song
listening to an oldies station
i realized he and i had no song
or not that, but that i never
APPLIED a song to that romance,
or any other

as if it was forbidden…
what is Love conquered by Lust?
it’s a beautiful day out, truly;
the flowers SHOULD be happy.


Freeman of the Cuspy Rounds

reminded all about, hiding in the crevices
darkest before the dawn
differentiation is a line

spin the view inward
spin the view outward

riding on hopes for perfection
riding on maps of continuance
on the plot, the plan

riding on ways to hold yourself
riding on ways to believe yourself

on the nature of dark
on the abeyance of light
on ponderous determinations of bodies
microscopic regurgitations of FORM

riding between the concept of blessings
inside the notoriety of gifts
looking at forever and deciding alternatives
to death are exhausting

riding on the statutes
on dictated redemption
on every part and participle
riding the breakers that take you out to sea …

to see …

to ride the quest of knowledge
and every dogged attempt of CONTROL

grasp understanding and dismiss collective construct
collective rule
the very exact design and practice …

collective deception

all agreeing grass is greener
skies are bluer
worlds will always spin
because destiny always has ……………. agreed.


…………..the spiral

the causality that has one;
one perfection
one continuance
one plan
one way
one belief – to an answer that leads to a belief …
one nature – definitions
one abeyance – gravitation – abeyance …
one determination – – questions – determinations …
one consumption – swallowing -consumptions….
one concept – of commiseration into concepts …
one notoriety – building fashion that causes notoriety …
one alternative – requiring an alternative an alternative …
one statute – opening statutes on statutes …
one redemption – leading to forgiveness needing mistakes for redemptions …
one part – desiring segments and then parted segments …
one breaker ………………….washing foam into the next wave

we see our own creation as parted
multiplying cells
is it so? or is that only our sight
turning all the shade of ruptured and spiraled
the trap
the fractal breakage

…………..all leading to another
and another ………

each a fount of its own need.

twists of causality
spirals in out

frolic every head
to bits and pieces

all for artistic

solidification of SELF
what you think you are
MORE important
MADE more important in spirals …….

………….than what you DO
all you DO, then
is chosen to reinforce who you ARE
what you see or want to be ARE

all turns
the dance of convoluted hope
in foregoing SELF DIRECTION
YOUR pause
banked on the spiral

mine resting on tender lines
lines of action
stemmed with mercy;
to draw the lines and move.

no opposite methodology works the board
each opposite known and plotted
the puppetmaster’s strings …

each opposite gripped
in a spiral of causality
burning the notion outward
ONLY moves the spiral in
burning it in only moves it OUT

forever spiraled in deepening ruts of Opposing Conditions
justification via poor leadership quantified
in poor design

the blessings of hatred
in bugs bunny holes marked by elmer fudd and his
dying wishes ……

don’t mind me

marking paths that do not
reinforce their own need …….. to move
to exist on fractured lines
deny the spiral its ache

run where no predictability can find your assurance
hide where no hope can match combing directions

broken sight and sound in singular for steady eyes
mended sound and sight on the curves of skin feeding galvanized ears …

step to
step on
no reinforcement for the next … because the next is new

all new
every every day

lines of survival
gifted to extensions NOT needing eternity
linear and new forgoes eternal spins!
the dogged eternity
of the spiral
the trap of hell that hell only knows …

when any faith is born on lines
from un-predicted tomorrows
a path of NO design
plots with no point and no none to see redundancies through

to where it SLAPS! gifted in prediction … is the next
line going to follow SENSE?

the lines in true generosity
needing no other

paths lived once
not to be repeated
but to decorate eternity
in singular understandings of worlds loved

loved and removed

removed and every distance created by
owning yourself