Depression Is A Reality

A frozen state of mind,

clear headed

yet,

stone-walled by fear.

 

When they speak of racing thoughts,

it seems fruitless

trying to slow down that progression,

instead the eyes close.

 

While the strength of depression

wreaks havoc upon vulnerability

the body waits,

an eventual light goes on.

 

Symptomatic to asking

reality to step aside,

while in the moment the struggle

remains the only …

 

So, we fight,

our bodies eventually

find a way

to step off the merry-go-round.

 

As simple as that might seem,

the revolution will never careen.

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Be A Racist, It’s Ok, It’s 2017

I walked into a nightmare today,

names were dropped, words were tossed,

I couldn’t get past an,

an, an, an,

omission of a hopeful anomaly,

that turned awful, horrific, debatably

ludicrous,

seemed we were all so frivolous,

funny, fanatics.

Seemed we were all lost in the comfort of our

WHITE PRIVILEGE!

White privilege regarded itself,

and no one else really mattered.

All the doors were closed,

we all looked at each other,

nobody cared, nobody cared,

nobody,

anyone within a couple of feet with

the ability to see and hear might have thought,

wait a second,

I thought it was the 21st century,

the 21st century – 2017.

Years beyond the days when civil rights

meant understanding there was a need to change,

a need to understand,

a time to respond to the changing mind,

and realize, realize,

real eyes would be watching now,

more cognizant, more genuine …

Have you noticed all the bi-racial advertising,

I mean there’s nothing wrong with it,

just advertising meeting a market,

nothing wrong with it,

the windows are all closed.

Nobody knows,

‘the trouble I’ve seen’,

the long and winding road …

Old man river,

and its four decades later,

we’re still safe though,

nobody heard the word said out loud,

except,

oh wait,

except, except, except,

accept responsibility,

we all heard it and we need all to

open the doors and try to squeeze through,

because we have suddenly narrowed

nearly a half century of effort.

But its ok,

the doors all remain closed.

Simple, right?

 

The Obituary

I wonder how they felt it might read,

summing up their life,

in a nutshell,

passing through all of the bad times,

focus upon the good, the energy, the meaning,

the society we live in deems the necessary truths.

If we knew,

would we then change our mind,

if we could stand in the back of the church,

see the weeping eyes,

the countless expressions of confusion,

would we,

care.

 

I wonder what mine will say today,

as compared to years from now,

which would be more attractive,

the present reality

or that seeming legacy that time forgot,

only the pain did always remain,

a constant,

within even a moment of relief,

there would be the memory of how many times,

we might have,

he might have,

thought differently than to withstand

normalcy.

 

Oh the papers they might read,

and then in a week or two,

there his ashes would be spread.

Sometimes I Stop

There is that occasion when the world evolves,

and I, for the sake of I, stay static,

I stop,

I don’t smell ┬áthe flowers, or even walk in the humidity,

instead,

I am frozen in time, wondering just how many hours

will drift past my eyes before I can

know,

before I might understand,

why the motion of my mind seems to be

in a perpetual state of idle.

 

When these episodic windfalls of clarity,

reach my sub-conscious,

I sometimes wonder about perception,

not about yours or theirs or anyone beyond my world,

but more about them,

those I love, the children, the voices, the people

that all know where I come from,

they all know the

affliction,

the seemingly easy out I have in my lexicon of words

to justify just why I want to cry.

 

It seems though,

in the silence of any room, any vacant space,

it is apparent, that I will stay here, forever.

When Childhood Seemed Innocent

We would play, for hours in May,

anticipating the summer day,

those opportunities ahead that contained

no worries, no stress, no school remained.

 

I remember our time spent on the court

the roundball, and later building a fort

we camped in the woods across the fields,

we lived for all the beauty that nature yields.

 

I remember thinking the sun would last

forever as we our own artist’s sketch cast,

running through the day light hours with ease

only needing to answer with occasional pleas.

 

I remember thinking that nothing really bothered

me in my neighborhood, love was always preferred.

I recall knowing there was a life away from mine,

saw it on the news, the fights, the police siren whine.

 

They were fighting in the streets all of everyone

throwing bricks and callous names toward anyone

who seemed to be indifferent to wanting to love

we couldn’t ever the hate we felt rise above.

 

I was ten years old when I first experienced ugliness

I received only confusion to be the answer nonetheless

I kept thinking about all the things I cared about

and suddenly my love for distraction became devout

 

In the meantime though the sidewalks began to fill

with all the hopes and dreams of those who will

eventually want to know the same things I do,

the same freedoms, the similar romances to woo.

 

Yet there in the quiet night of a sunset on strife

we can all realize we’re the sole cause of this life

These Keys

wolves

In the woods, the wilderness evokes

a sound of rustling, twigs snapping, a breeze through leaves

that whisper a reality we cannot pretend away.

Instead we listen, we joy in the simple nature

of the forest in its pristine state,

always waiting, forever growing,

letting our lives appreciate its pure self.

This is a key to understanding our human nature.

When we leave the wood,

we return to today’s world in automation,

in electricity that which turns us on,

turns off when we need to disappear,

the engines whir in the hands of our own guidance

our responsibility,

we live by the sound of our activity,

This is a key to understanding our human nature.

I’m sitting down

I’m near tears without any reason why,

perhaps the music I’ve chosen,

possibly the state of mind I am in.

Been here before, felt it many times,

and on occasion chose a difficult path,

one that would eventually hurt my mind.

This is a key to understanding our human nature.

Why is it I can see through the forest,

I can understand how the world exists around me,

I know people adjust to one another,

while deep inside the wood, our nature is to imagine,

the wolves are waiting.

~

*picture found on tumblr

Dreams and Depression

A typical day,

waking up to wonder about life.

I don’t awaken to a desire to mow the lawn,

am not preoccupied with staining the deck,

haven’t a lot of need to define my weekend,

but figure out why?

Yes, that is a daily preoccupation.

I can fight the will to be happy better than anyone I know,

I’ve had good practice.

I’ve learned the tools of self-doubt better than

anyone who questions their efforts and skills.

Now watch tomorrow when the sun rises, I will be in a different state of mind.

I’ll smile and crack a few jokes,

I’ll put my effort into making you feel good,

because that is human condition stuff,

we are all if we remain aware, bound by our desire,

to make people laugh.

Well not everyone I suppose believes that way,

some are too preoccupied with that miserable frame of mind.

At least I am not most of the time,

but I have to be around you to feel alright with who I am.

When I find myself alone,

if I let myself,

I can travel far too distant into that mystique of sadness,

that place they tell us to walk away from,

that ‘let go of it’ place,

that forget about who I am and just go forward that place,

Dreams,

those are the places I like to be most of the time,

unless depression finds me there too.