Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Rising Hope

The sun rises on a cold and frosty morning
It brings hope and joy that illuminates the inky world of the unseen
A circle in a circle
Spinning and twisting in its flight of beauty
Casting a fever on winter's desolation
Showing the path
Pointing the way
Telling us it's okay
She'll be back tomorrow

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

A Great Idea

Many times I've found that I have a great idea, way of living, or change of pace that would allow me to strengthen my beliefs and become a stronger man. I have tried these ideas and attempted to incorporate them into my life, however, only to find that after a short while I've reverted back to what I once was. For a time I was vexed at this, unable to grasp exactly why I've been unable to permanently employ my idea. But upon much reflection of the various tried and failed attempts made on my part, I believe it to be for lack of fellowship. For instance; rendering my own lard from scraps of fat that were going to be thrown away and using it for cooking and making my own soap seems like a frugal change of life. Not only that, but I also know what exactly is going into my product vice buying these things at the store and being ignorant of these facts. But when everybody else in the house is disgusted by the fact that I'm cooking with lard and look down on it like an inconvenience, it quickly becomes much more difficult to continue with. This is just one example of my failed ideas and why they do in fact fail. So, my new great idea is to find other like minded individuals who share in my eccentric thinking and are willing to share their own great ideas to keep mine alive. No man is an island.

Monday, September 23, 2013

Just a Man

Just a man

Just a song

Just a verse

Listen well, cause you won't hear it again

Decay surrounding the dreams of the future

Then fulfilled

Presently unwrapped

Unraveled like a hand knit sweater, so warm




Haughty eyes grasping for more than a lion could devour

A string of lies which boil over cauldron cold

Worn out



Now in a darkened corner of an unknown basement

No light of life or warmth of words

Just frayed fibers of longing

To love

To leave

To lose

Without a vision...

     People are dying!

Go ahead and wear your life on your sleeve

Already those knitting hands are crippled by arthritic holes which show forth the gauntness beneath

Can a hole in a soul be patched by mere man?

And if so, how long to last the redemption of self glory?

You dream

You fly

You die

The Captivated Mind

False fetters of a captivated mind

Feathers plucked and meat in grind

Greatness strived for, pittance gained

Thy failed achievement is life disdained

Breaking, crushing, severing nerve

In tow, the life of you who serve

Yet hope isn't lost, light shines nearer still

Not by thy shattered dreams, but by God's Holy will

Abandon the path and traipse out in the dark

For to shelter your soul neath the wings of a lark

Though glory is lost, take comfort in this

Your life has been plucked from eternal abyss

And safe in the fortress of death to thyself

A new life emerges with riches in delfts

A servant you are and a servant you'll be

But a servant submitted is a branch on the Tree

Saturday, May 18, 2013

Coffee & Cigarettes

     I still remember it like yesterday. He was sitting at that old table; the one with the corroding chromed legs and chipped plastic veneer. The chairs were salvaged from an old out of business buffet. They didn't match. He was wearing his favorite worn out jeans and faded blue tee shirt he got from the hospital after his second heart attack. His long white pony tail was facing me as plumes of blue smoke magically appeared from the other side and dissipated in a flurry of spirals and streams.

"Hey Dad!"

"I told you not to be in the house while I'm working."

"What are you doing?"

"Building a new tower for a client of mine. What do you want?"

     Just then a sizzling sound emanates from the backs of both of us. Waters boiling. He stands up and shoots me an annoyed glance; then walks to the stove, picks up the pot, and pours the scalding water into a dingy yellow plastic coffee maker.

"Sit down and let me show you something. Everything inside this tower has a purpose. The shell protects all the parts from dirt. The motherboard is where all the components plug into. Then you've got the memory cards, video card, sound card... Everything has a purpose."

"Why don't they just make them all one piece? Wouldn't it be easier?"

"No. Everybody that owns a computer has a purpose for using it. Just as the parts have a purpose, so do the users. And you have to make the computer to fit the purpose of whoever is using it. Hold on a second, and don't touch anything."

     He walks back to the coffee maker with its ready brew and pours black tar into a black mug. As he lights another cigarette, he stares out the window of the single wide trailer to his dying tomato plants. Dissatisfied with them, he glares at me.

"What do you want? Shouldn't you be outside playing with your brothers?"

"It's hot, so I came inside for a drink. Can I have some coffee?"

"No. It's not good for you. There's a hose outside. Why didn't you just get a drink from it? You can see I'm busy in here. You're disturbing my work and you're going to get the computer dirty since you've been outside. Just go back and play."

"Can you build me a computer?"

     Snickering, he inhales deeply the half burnt cigarette and blows a stream of blue into the already saturated air.

"Why do you want a computer?"

"It's neat! Can you show me how to build a tower?"

"Tell you what; if you can answer this one question, I'll build you a tower. What would you use a computer for?"

     Stupefied, I awkwardly grasp for an answer. None come.

"I don't know."

"Then I won't build you a computer. But if you ever come up with an answer to my question, you've got a deal."

     At that moment he accidentally bumps the mug and soaks the scattered components with coffee.

"Dammit! Get out of here! I told you not to be in here! Get out!"

     I start crying and run for the door. As it creaks open, sunlight floods the room, illuminating the smoke filled trailer with blue suffocation.

"I'm sorry Dad."

     The door shuts.

Saturday, May 11, 2013

Just Wondering Around

A lot of time I find myself sitting and thinking what in the world I'm doing. I read to learn; I learn to do; I do to be better. But I'm going to die just like everybody else. And in truth, nobody cares how hard I try or how well I do, so why do anything at all? Everybody I come across is either trying to prove their worth, hold on to their riches, or trying to become more than they are so they can accomplish one of the other things. The only neutral conversation is about the weather, but you can only talk about that for a maximum of 30 seconds before it fizzles out. If you try to help somebody, they'll soon forget it. It doesn't become a lesson to them so they can help others. They just become dependent on others help. If you try to create art, everybody starts trying to dissect it so that they can brag about how smart they are. No matter how much you create and give away, it'll never be enough. It always results in death. But you know, I like to eat and sleep. I like to breathe fresh and crisp air and watch the birds and blue skies. To smell flowers and listen to music is very enjoyable. And I love to create art in whatever form and enjoy my own handiwork. I suppose I just wish that we could all just enjoy life together without trying so hard to beat each other. Maybe I'll make pizza tonight.

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Another Poem

Night waxes
Eyes drop
Strength fades
Coyotes howl
Hope yields
Fear grips
Out of time
Out of light
Out of life

Day breaks
Pupils gleam
Flesh ripples
Vanity calls
Sun blinds
Glamour awes
No time
No light
No life