When Pain Chose Happiness

We do live by that dichotomy,

each smile in a brilliant morning sky,

has known disdain,

has played the lottery,

wondered about life in a peaceful

watery cascade of delicious memory.

When while life plays with impression,

there are no longer any secrets

nearly as confining as the victim of

a circle of deceit.

Now that is certainly a depression.

What happiness we may choose,

if ill-begotten would without question,

not outlive the reality of our pain.

Would we not then be of a prudent nature,

pay attention to the reality of our vulnerable lives,

breathe in morning skies,

live out our dreams,

rather then allowance speaks of evil reckoning.

Choose happiness with an urgent focus upon words,

verbal or mindful.

Walking With Anxiety

Around the corner, I expect to find you,

when just coming to a stop outside,

I know you’ll be waiting,

when they make eye contact,

what is it this time they’ll decide is

about you.

When I reflect upon how often I have worried

alone

seems the hours of the day really do stretch themselves

an inordinate number of miscues,

that endless supply of

inconvenient truths.

Walk with me and tell me stories,

all the different places, unique moments,

phenomenal realities,

all beyond the scope of my wildest dreams,

nightmares.

I stole away this after meeting my midnight serenade

only to discover the result is always the same,

I cannot get out of my head,

without seeing the shadows,

the fear that exists waiting, wondering, wallowing

in a sea of self-pity.

Walk with me, anxiety,

it is truly a beautiful day,

the sort we could lose away,

in a fit of self-serving worry,

concern,

confidence,

callous

contemplations that always seem to shout out loud,

when we wish only to quiet the storm.

When I Was A Child

I remember I could believe in magical things,

the diamonds we cherished in wedding rings

On a sunny day, I could imagine I’d see forever

when rainbows appeared, I would run until never.

~

When I was a child I recall all of my scary dreams

were mysterious inventions of my fears it seems.

While happiness, security, confusion followed me,

hope, passion, optimism, confidence eluded me.

~

I remember I could look in a person’s eyes at will

without ever wondering if I might be today’s pill.

I could climb a mile of stairs in a half a minute,

turn around, run downstairs and forget I was in it.

~

When I was a child I would smile in every instance

I found if I didn’t my world became horrific intense.

I wish I’d decided as a child to let go of my notions

instead no longer might I pretend away commotions.

~

When I was a child I remember life seemed lovely mild.

A tearful demeanor didn’t determine when I was a child.

Losing Faith

When unwrapping the sheer plastic skin

surface shield

a film we all seem to carry around

we only release it when the time is right,

we feel safe,

compelled to take the next step toward independence

from that which confines our resilient

human condition

~

How quickly can we rush to the water’s edge,

that place that lays before our security,

runs amok,

takes our heart away to be battered

upon the rocks, crags, undertow of an angry world.

How often do we allow a misstep

to further define the natural wall exists between

beauty and failure.

~

In the church I chose to attend this morning,

I looked at the men and women about me,

coiffed and preened in their ‘Sunday best’

and wondered about what their lives are like,

once the wardrobe is returned to the cleaners.

I thought perhaps the industry

survived upon hypocrisy alone, for without the defeat

of natural thinking, our lives might actually matter,

beyond the orthodoxy bent upon suggesting,

we feel this way

because society says so, not because we believe it to be true.

~

So, today, I’m not losing faith,

I still believe in genuine truth,

I won’t hide behind a facade of protective shield,

that though seemingly transparent will not allow our hands and fingers

to dirty themselves,

to touch the core of that which our humanity has designed itself

to recognize.

I cannot be ever recognized beyond the mask of deceit.

I choose to feel the direct energy of the sunlight.

~

I do truly cherish the radiant charisma of love.

When People Do Depart

Years ago,

with a stamp and a leap of faith,

I would begin my wait,

until one sunny afternoon, I would see the delivery,

always hoping you might be there,

to say hello,

~

So often as the gravel chimed my feet,

I would hear your voice again,

through the words on paper,

a parchment even in your selection

would offer solace,

in knowing there was a care,

for every aspect of your return.

~

i would then smile,

imagine the next round, our continued love affair,

miles away, yet immediately bound,

by the words we awaited, we lived for, we delighted

in realizing when they returned our thoughts,

the imagery in our mind,

remained strong, and evident, and real,

again.

~

Today, is it too easy to be swooned,

by the romantic nature of our words,

by our ability to recognize truth,

by our willingness to be vulnerable,

by the sheer virtue that sometimes our words …

are all we are,

remaining,

left behind,

in the immediacy.

Simple Truth

I went up to someone today,

I spoke what I thought to be the truth,

She looked at me with a pointed eye,

I wondered just why.

~

You see I’d wanted to for awhile,

speak to her about what it is I believe,

there was another involved,

she would truly (truth) understand why.

~

Placed my self-righteous indignation,

next to that entitlement and rationale,

walked sorely ahead, my gratifying

point of view a sordid reality.

~

Then where has compassion gone,

when we all seem to believe,

we have to tell another how to soul-

search their own destiny.

~

Sometimes, though, I know it’s just me.

Self Preservation

When once we imagined our lives to be free

we balance the hours of time in this way.

We always imagine the day ahead will be

an easier margin for error than was today.

~

Sunshine in morning autumn burning leaves

we recognize the sheath of summer’s end.

When while the wind begins Her steady heave

our lives begin to shelter without any pretend.

~

We will when necessary face the music of eyes

the answers to our lives seems morality belies.

While love is the ultimate symbol of survival

so frequently our world comes crashing all

~

I would, life permitted seek some solace in release

well within, sensitivity’s favor would be my peace

Truth

However hidden

when did the initial words

resonate

were it be the initial innocence

lost in a wave of deceit.

How careful our lives

while a sojourn

of responsibility

defined in the beholder’s eyes,

yet, what then of Nature,

how might that sacrifice

become tantamount

in recognition, in spearation in …

When the planets align,

hope for peace,

pray that what we desire

become only suggestive

of a bigger picture,

a stronger will,

a loftier desire

to understand.

`The Decay of a Day

In a methodical mess of time,

our world has been defined,

by hypocrisy,

or idiocy,

or lunacy,

or whichever descriptive

horror,

travesty,

diminished capacity,

we might choose to operate from.

The ticking of a clock began our morning,

from federal sacrifice to teacher ignorance,

our society believes,

we can will away all the misery,

our inability,

our instability

that bureaucratic dependency,

to do the wrong thing

is alive and twirling

a baton of human sacrifice

across a meddling nation.

We are clueless to the hurtful,

menacing manner maligned

mouthpiece

we often rely upon to

make us laugh with ridicule.

What happens when the laughter

ends, when one doctrine

pitted against another,

believes the lie to be true,

believes in the why we do,

believes their own lie,

to be truth …

Syria.

To Write a Wrong

Clever we are given allowance with our word

an opportunity to state simply the absurd.

~

Yet today with vast swift lines of hyper-space

so often our word becomes a shadowed face.

~

We slap one another gladly with the aim of syntax

always apparent, forever feeling no hidden tax

~

Unlike some childhood when words might disappear

into a soft moonlight, a rising sun, in arms we endear.

~

Forgiveness would always over-ride distant memory

again, without words, just eyes, love might agree

~

to overlook, to ask for another opportunity, per chance;

a disagreement settled while communications enhance

~

the true meaning of our interactions, our human condition

rather than the insidious nature of calling into question

~

any single individual with actions or motives to aptly slay

the dragon of inner turmoil so easily spewed today.

~

Indeed, so easily are we drawn to the nature of the easy,

a sentence here, quick phrase, an ‘fml,’ leaves one queazy.

~

We can try in honesty speaks (right) our world with common sense to release …

The ills, the fears, the fiber optic feeding frenzy hallows our peace.

~

Artist: Dani Stites