My style is different, called a lecture by a few,
but I do this when conveying a message,
that I would like to leave with you.
A mental tattoo to keep with you,
usually outlined by a few words so you don't forget the message,
because my mission here is to help a few,
I just only do so in passing.
So let my voice be the needle to my colorful words,
and the canvas for the ink is your mind,
So as I travel through this world,
a colorful mindscape in my wake,
is what I will leave behind.
I am a luftmensch progeny, with riches no mortal can steal from me. Contemplation of existence has declassified reality, and nimble thoughts enable avoidance of gravity, that crushes others into lives of square conformity, while my mind climbs through the corydali realms of eternity. Home to Angels, Demons, Spirits and a choir singing "Holy Holy". Where the currency is wisdom and the closest thing to poverty is the student whose mind has yet to wrap itself into infinity, see, the contrast against our material infirmity is crushing when the baseline is Gucci, bling, sub-prime mortgages, and mini-bars raided during extramarital flings, versus universal direction and lessons so pure they are beyond chlorhexidine clean. That’s why so much effort is put into making us pay attention to, anything that will distract us from what is true, that being the real you that's buried under layers of grief, greed, and an identity built to fit in with those you value. All of it temporary, most of it sedentary, but with an open mind it all becomes elementary, and avenues of higher learning can get us out of the torturing. We just have to get up when our alarms start ringing. Hard to do though when the bed we made is so warm and comforting, but when you finally get tired of sleeping through suffering, and want to know why everything amounts to nothing, just get up and answer the door that's been knocking, to join the rest of the class, because on you they are waiting.
I see you, vibrant, beneath all your layers, there, clear
All you are, buried by the shroud you hide behind, scared, clear
Where is the relief, no way out, save a breath, the journey is long
The climb out seems pointless, nothing but water everywhere, clear
Her, not the one who held my corpse as they died a little together
Screaming silently beneath a smile, in a pitch she couldn't hear, clear
Lost in the dark, crying for you, Ruler, clad in kingdom, misery's consort
Waiting to be returned to a state clad by the sky, free of here, clear
A frog jumps lilies
Flies overhead are buzzing
A meal to consume
My humble nature
Is a result of long gone
And unwanted pain
On the wind, a whistle heard
In the mind, is that a bird?
Eyes flit, a sight beyond words
A tear falls, the soldier returned
So here I am again, alone, on a typical December evening,
Waiting for her and the kids to come home.
They left earlier today, but why, she wouldn’t say,
Only that she would be back in time,
To have dinner on the table by no later than a few minutes to nine.
That was three hours ago, and still no sign of that….
But she’ll be back, she always comes back,
It’s probably just the roads, the snow came down heavy, and probably hid the track,
That leads through the woods to get down to our shack, it’s special you know,
We got it together so we would always know where our love nest is at…
So what if I lost my job, we have each other, I don’t care about her mom.
Always in her ear about my anger and liquor,
They are mine and she knew about it, we always work through it together,
She knows I didn’t mean to hit her, it was just one too many shots of liquor,
Cause vodka on the rocks tops any day off, I just wish she wouldn’t ruin it with all her nagging talk.
About how she has sooooo much to deal with and that I do nothing to contribute…
Does she know how hard it is to find a job anymore, it’s not like ones just going to walk through the door…
Where is she, I need her to take away some of this anger, to cool off some of this rage, instead I’m being tortured, alone in this cage.
No one here but me, forcing me to take a good look at the walls around me,
The pictures there, show moments of time that looked better,
Frozen forever so they might be remembered, and used to forget all the bad things that led here…
If she doesn’t come back I know what I’ll do
I’ll go out in the snow and make sure the path is clear,
And tell myself “now she’ll have to come back to you.”
I mean how could she not with all I just went through,
It was a lot of snow and I damn near froze, that’s way worse than all of her woes…
What would she do if I died, then again, I don’t even know if she’d cry.
I’ve been such a piece of work, and you know what, what’s the temperature as it is,
I could just lay down and take a nap in her shirt,
Really it’s mine, but she had to have it,
So when I wasn’t around she could still have my scent.
Now it smells like her even though her warmth is no longer present,
It’s purpose still stays…
So as I lay myself down on the dirt, the liquor in my veins will keep me numb to the pain.
Till I pass out and sleep under the cool white sheets,
Then maybe she’ll forgive me, and my kids won’t have to ever visit me.
I won’t ruin them, and make them take it out on their friends…
That’s what’s best, I’ll finally take responsibility for this mess…
And as the cold takes me into her embrace, I feel my heartbeat take on a slower pace,
And then as the snow covers my back, and she caresses my face,
It all fades to black, no more rage in…
I’ve been called worthless, no purpose, would be better off six feet under the dirt…sssh
The truth is, my self worth was worth less than that dirt, and I had put myself below the earth
Then she came along and dragged me up from the ground, saying “you’re not lost, just waiting to be found.”
My love for her, the only time its ever been true, was what kept me alive,
The only reason this poem is even in front of you.
As all stories of true love see fit, my heart shattered when I realized there was no worth in it.
Friends only, never lovers, and so I took my broken heart and placed it where I thought was
The best place for worthless things to be, right there in the dirt where she found me.
I felt bad, so I toiled all that wretched soil into a place where things of worth can grow productively.
And wouldn’t you know it, my heart that I had cast out as debris
Had healed and grown into my own personal tree.
Never the same love will I ever have again, but still,
The fruit of this tree I share freely with my friends.
A simple kindness saved me, but from that moment has come many others
and I say to all of you, that I am here when needed to be, for I am your loyal brother.
This purpose I know have is simple and true, I pass out kindness from her tree,
In the hope that it will helps you,
To start a garden of your own, so you can help another,
And pass it on forever, until the whole world has recovered.
Why? Why can’t you see? Don’t you see the pain that you are causing me?
Your existence is take, and all I’ve ever done is give,
But still you want more, maybe you don’t want me to live.
So my blood and my body are the last gift, you win.
With my death I have ensured your life, you still harvest my husk, some of you do so and cry.
These claim wrongdoing but harvest still the same, lives born of death and perpetuate the pain.
When my shell is through who will help you?
You’ve never helped each other, only taken, only suffered.
So I cry for you children and I cry for the land and I cry for my oceans that will one day be sand.
These my organs and my bones, even a perfect death cannot atone
For what you have done to me my sons, my daughters, my familiars, my children, my failures .
Why? Why can’t you see?
I guess I forgot to tell you that compassion, understanding, and forgiveness were free,
And that I set aside for you, but you would rather it be me,
Me to have it all so you don’t have to forgive yourself, or others, because you know I have plenty on the shelf
So you do what you please without worry or care,
Hoping that “I’m sorry” is enough and “that’s that so there”
But there’s only so much left soon it will be all gone
Then no more safety net, only swan dives and songs,
And you never learned, so we are all to burn,
And I am sorry for not being enough to take care of you when life is rough
But you’re not listening anyway, no matter how I cry in pain,
Because your life is more important,
And my death was just in vain.
I am from building blocks and k-nex ferris wheels
From happy times at Christmas followed by quiet nights alone
From misunderstood by classmates and teachers, and sad looks upon the world
From music in the air, and books in trees
From the water in the lake, from smoke in the breeze
From time spent and time lost, from can’t remember when
From life in its beginning, from life when it comes to an end