Thoughts: A Poem for Now

The thoughts overwhelm me, I have to speak out.
The pundits, they make me want to scream, cry, and shout.
I watched a great movie this weekend I did.
Fred Claus, no award winner, but it touched this old kid.
I cried when I watched as in typical fashion
All the people ran ’round with Christmas passion.
They focused on who’s naughty, who’s nice
Who deserves to get presents, who should be left out on the ice.
Of all those involved, of all those who led,
Not one saw the truth except for Santa’s brother Fred.
Fred saw they’re just kids caught in bad situations
Acting out as they will in all their frustrations.
There are no bad kids. They are wonderful all.
They need understanding and guidance not to fall
Into patterns destructive and hurtful and mean.
They need someone to listen, distill and to glean
The troubles they harbor, and what are their needs?
Help to see how they can change their bad deeds.
I guess Friday’s shooter didn’t see them this way.
I can’t even imagine what he’d have to say
Had he not been a coward and taken his own life
After taking so many and causing such strife.
Was he himself hurt or was he just mad?
Was he lashing out trying to make people sad?
The questions are many; the answers are sparse.
The media, as usual, turns it all into farce.
Life isn’t fair; it seems death isn’t either.
We’re here; then we’re gone. We can’t get a breather.
But while we’re still here, remember this please:
God’s loving kindness and care can help bring us some ease.

When Artistic Impulses Go Awry

Jealousy
(sung to the tune of Jack Hayford’s hymn Majesty)

Jealousy, suffering Jealousy, I’m a loser to be jealous of you and your life.
Jealousy, where is it getting me? I’m so alone, weeping alone, causing me strife.
So get up, get off my butt, stop being stupid, no time to wait, appreciate the treasures I have.
Jealousy, giving up Jealousy, I have my life, my son and my man. What else could I need?

Haiku. Do You?

If you know anything about haiku then you probably know it is a form of poetry, Japanese in origin I believe, that is generally about something in nature and follows the pattern of three lines, five syllables in the first line, seven syllables in the second, and five again in the third. (I think that all this back-to-school shopping has caused me to channel my inner teacher here. Sorry.)

Most of the time I'm good at following the rules, particularly the number of syllables thing (sometimes being an accountant is handy), but the one haiku rule I violate more than I follow is one about it being something about nature. Oh well, less anal retentive people tell me that rules are made to be broken. I, on the other hand, fret that when I present what I see as a flawed poem, such as the one below, everyone reading it will be thinking how awful it is because I didn't follow that one rule rather than appreciating the message within.

Such is the life of the OCD perfectionist. . .

Life as Dance
by Trueself

Life is like a dance
If one is well partnered then
It is no trouble

If one is alone
The dance can still be quite good
Solo performance

If one has wrong mate
It becomes awkward, clumsy
Stepping the wrong way

I prefer dancing
With the right partner most times
Solo act others

Join me in the dance
Go with the flow, oh but please
Don’t step on my toes

And From the Addled Brain Comes. . .

Look there! Over there
See it in the western sky?
It is there, waiting

Blank canvas upon
Which to paint a beautiful
Warm summer’s sunset

See? Orange and Blue
It is proof beyond all doubt
God loves Illini!

Rage

I wrote this a while back, several months back, but never posted it. I'm not sure why I didn't post it then, but I didn't. It no longer reflects my current feelings, but it does capture the feelings that I've had in the past many times. I'm getting better at not focusing on the negative things, and focusing more on the positive. This poem is a reminder to me of the place to which I don't want to return.

Where is the rage?
It is deep within me
Wanting to get out
Waiting for it’s time

Waiting for what?
For someone to care
To freely give to me
The unconditional love I crave

The rage waits patiently
As the years go by
Nobody will love me
If the rage comes out

That is part of the rage
The anger that comes from the knowledge
That nobody loves me as I am
But only as who they want me to be

Don’t get mad
Don’t be angry
Don’t feel those negative emotions
Nobody loves a loser

I’ve learned those lessons well
And turned those emotions inward
I take the brunt of their force
I absorb the pain

But the pressure builds within
The pain grows inside me
I alternate nausea and breathlessness
I am losing my bearings

Where is the rage?
It is very nearby
It is in my throat
It may soon come flying from my mouth

Post in Haiku

Be careful what you wish
This is wisdom without doubt
I wished time alone

No BJ tonight
As we had planned before but
Time with kids comes first

So my wish came true
Just not the way I wanted
Sigh, life goes on, sigh

No Relief

Depression
Darkness
Absence of Light

Fog
Cannot think clearly
Cannot function

Stay in bed
Pull up the covers
Hide

Go away world
Go away
Leave me be

Let me cry
Let me sleep
Let me die a little more inside

Don’t push me
Don’t pull me
Don’t, just don’t

Go away
Wait! Come back
Help me please

Never mind
Go away
Nothing will help

Where is it?
Where did you hide the joy?
Why is it gone?

Shut up
Leave me alone
Give up on me like others have

Go
No, stay
No, better to go

Leave me wallowing
Don’t reward me for it
By trying to soothe me

Give it up
I’m not worth it
Give up on me as I have

We Do Not Talk

Why does he want me here?
What does he get from this relationship?
I sit in one room.
He sits in another.
We do not talk.

What connections are left?
We share a son.
We disagree on how to raise him.
We’ve given up persuading one another to our points of view.
We do not talk.

Where is our common ground?
About what do we agree?
I want to pay off the house.
He wants to invest and keep the mortgage.
We do not talk.

What is in this for him?
Does he want my paycheck?
Does he want my presence?
What is it that he wants?
We do not talk.

Why does he beg me to stay?
Why is staying good enough?
Even though I stay I am not his.
Even though I stay there is no connection.
We do not talk.

How do I move on?
Why do I feel I must persuade him that it is best for all?
I need to do things for me.
I need to break free.
We do not talk.