Let us be like mathematicians,
subtracting away unnecessary divisions that keep us from truly living and working together for the betterment of all.
Let us endeavor to add love,
understanding,
and care to our own lives and the lives of others,
allowing kindness to multiply like the myriad stars in the sky and all the souls on Earth.
7-30-19
An ache,
Some sort of pain,
Not debilitating,
But nagging.
A phantom limb I'm not even aware I had.
A mystery of confusion and unease.
Darkness in the light of day.
It is something creeping up on me.
It is an uneasy sense of dread,
Or at least trepidation.
I don't know what or why.
Maybe I'll figure it out,
Or maybe I'll just learn to ignore it.
7-18-19
They who are ancient and wise and gone,
say (or said),
that the course and meaning of life,
the very Way,
cannot be explained.
It simply is.
It is going with the flow.
It is the finding of balance.
It is the connecting with,
and the becoming of,
the oneness all around.
Why fight it?
Maybe Pooh Bear,
or The Dude can be instructive here.
Upon the fickle tides of life's ocean,
they find themselves adrift,
cast about carelessly on rickety rafts,
unhurried,
unburdened,
and unconcerned about direction.
What purpose,
does expending energy,
upon the fruitless task of trying,
pointlessly,
to control the uncontrollable,
really achieve?
Better it is,
to follow the Tao of the willow,
bending,
and surrendering to the changing winds,
unbreakable.
7-11-19
I've heard of a place where demons dwell,
It's a dark and lonely portal to Hell,
But in my opinion it wasn't so bad,
The clientele wasn't nearly as sad,
As all the horrible stories they tell.
The DMV is impossibly inevitable,
Unless ye be mineral or vegetable,
I happen to know,
We'll all have to go,
Because the vehicle code is impenetrable!
The employees are not totally unkind,
They do have a rather unenviable time,
Each day they confront,
Citizens so blunt,
As to drive each of them out of their mind.
I know the truth due to hours I spent,
In the beastly belly of doom where I went,
To register and license,
For my Class C drivin',
And the things I saw are a bit different.
They come undocumented and entitled,
Rude folks who become unbridled,
They yell and they scream,
But this is no one's dream,
To watch an adult act like a spoiled child.
It would seem that the budget is bloated,
But it wouldn't be polite if I gloated,
I would have some nerve,
To attack those who serve,
And it's not like anyone's getting demoted.
Renewals, transfers, & permitting needs,
The collective good the money feeds,
Roads and bridges get fixed,
But those projects seem to get nixed,
And the cracks in the streets host weeds.
So what's three hours to be up to date,
When motor vehicles are our fate?
It's the way it's designed,
So we should be resigned,
To the rules of the game in this state.
At least the facilities will help you cope,
But once you finish there is no hope,
Where it should be dispensed,
A summary scrawled & condensed,
Are only the words, "You need soap."
6-23-19
Maybe it's time to toss aside,
The barbs and stones and jibes,
Wipe away all those delineated territories,
That indicate our tribes.
For when we bleed we bleed the same,
And there's no case for blame,
Nor claim to be made,
In any of god's names,
Because when we bow our heads,
Or look upon the stars,
The hope that's in our hearts,
Does not end with faith alone,
But starts,
With love.
We will all someday die,
And that is why,
It seems so awful not to try,
And again this is why,
I do not cry but plead and beg,
That we not allow any more time to go by,
Before we stop,
Stop,
Stop,
This pointless bickering,
This cruel snickering,
At each and the other's foibles,
While dickering over rotten spoils,
And all the while,
Toiling each and every day,
Every one of us.
Why?
For love.
Our days start and end with love.
It is our compass,
So we should let it guide us,
But remember that our love,
It is no greater,
Than the love of anyone else.
That is to say,
If I may,
That it is no more important,
Or less so,
Than that of the sisters and brothers,
The fathers and mothers,
Of all the others,
Everywhere in the world.
We all start from the same place,
And that is a place of hope,
And love.
It seems so simple,
But maybe,
If we could just get together,
For real,
Everything would be all right.
6-18-19
Even now,
I get choked up,
Tears well in my eyes,
And I'm all but incapacitated,
Whenever I hear your voice.
Three years seems enough,
To come to terms,
To get a grip,
To at least not feel so raw,
But I guess not.
Perhaps it's the bond we forged in youth,
Or the fact that your spirit was true,
One in a million,
Without doubt,
And I know I'm not alone in this thought.
If you were here and I said these things,
I know you'd just smile,
You'd wave me off with a laugh,
You'd change the subject,
If you had the chance.
Even now,
You're still larger than life,
In my mind,
And in my heart,
And my soul aches when I think of you.
You'd hate that,
I know,
But it's just the way it is,
Losing friends,
And living with ghosts.
Even now,
I can barely hear you sing,
Let alone sing along,
Without feeling overwhelmed,
And wishing you were still here.
6-15-19
It's June,
And our living room is filled with boxes.
Again.
Moving,
For us,
Always seems to fall,
Not in autumn or spring,
When it's logical and civilized.
No,
For us.
Moving in winter is not a thing.
Nope,
Summer is the season of change,
Of wrapping,
And packing,
And lifting,
Of loading,
Uprooting.
So,
We play the waiting game,
And turn our home into a warehouse,
Until we can find a new place to land.
At which time we will procure a truck,
And lug our stuff out from under one roof,
And gladly drop it beneath another,
All the while panting,
Sweating,
Dripping,
And cursing ourselves,
Because it's June and we're moving.
Again.
6-12-19
