Differences

That voice on my brow which carries me through

Stretches along my anachronistic mind

Breaches through the softest cries

and changes what was blue

 

Family and friends, they cannot carry–

This weakness found within

But experience grins when the veil becomes thin

and all the world is merry

 

Open to the Air

She sat upon a window sill, feet splayed to the air

Untying knots that bounded free, floating here and there

She slipped one, crossed another, picking at life’s spots

But then she fell, twisted with a yell, and cursed her casted lot

What you make of it.

What do I find myself to be

Called upon with expectations, requirements of another world

Finding fault that lies not inside but within the eyes of others

Staring, thinking, breathing my soul out as if I were a puppet

Why do you think I am this machine? Why are you demanding my acquiescence?

Life is what you make of it I’m told

Like my father, I am a terrible creator.

Missed Poetry Today

No new poetry today.

 

I start university again on monday, which means I’ll likely slow down a bit due to time restrictions and lack of inspiration(studying isn’t helpful). Today I did not post due to a long outing in San Antonio to include the Zoo, a bit of fun with the kids, pool time, time with friends and movie bonding with the wife. I hope you all have a great weekend and I’ll try to post more up tomorrow.

Humility

That which is divine

Humility is a shelter against the storm of egos

A bulwark from which superiority has no strength

Those who gain it, never know it

Those who seek it, find themselves at self-odds

It’s recognized by all, but found in few

The freest of us hold it in plenitude

It requires nothing but pure thoughts,

and escapes the forgotten

American Stoic

Stoic is as stoic does not

The straight line with no dividing pathways,

eating your feelings and experiences

A glutton of unprecise needs and unending appetite

But there is another way

There’s a way to find a middle

It doesn’t break the self,

it only breaks the routine

Call upon your average angels

Live within the grey screens

Logic can exist without emotion,

emotion can exist without logic

But life is most harsh without thought,

and who wants to live in a world of broken smiles

The oldest saying is plan for the worst, hope for the best

Yet a stoic doesn’t hope, merely plans

Fill your head with your heart, find a stranger path

 

The Door

Beyond the walk there lies a door

Past the door are many more

It stretches beyond what we can see

Until we find eternity

 

The door has paint for many eyes

The colors blend and sometimes blind

They make up shapes and symbols for all

Creating fate and making thralls

 

There are those who focus on the door,

and others on where lies the floor

It matters not how you turn the handle,

nor whether you were quite the vandal

But what you do when that circles turned,

who you were and what you learned.

 

 

Envy

Envy, the creature often confused for possessive jealousy

It slithers into the heart when least expected,

Driving others to madness, wishing they could have or be another

It’s the killer of the already loved, the slayer of contentment

It’s the champion of what’s yours is mine

Its enemy is tranquility, its oldest friend is hatred

There is no cure for Envy without growth, no settlement without upheaval

There is envy within all who decide they are not what they want to be, but none can be found within the poor who gives

My Song

If and when I danced, I danced to their tune

Their pied piper play, took my worries away

I found a new appeal, a new way to see, a new way to breathe

I moved to their wavelengths, saw my own escapes

 

It all changed when another came along

He flitted and flew, sang his own song

I tried to change, make them see my range

But among all other things, they found me strange

 

I escaped the music, at last, finding a tune not quite so crass

Moving along my musical road, I listened to my song and never slowed

It slipped a leap deep within, let others see me spin and grin

It found me, this strange escape, found a much more fluid shape

I hear my own chords now and then, hear it in others who almost find their zen

But I don’t try to change for them, I’ll never allow my song to change again

 

My Companion

Is there any greater companion than a dog

A true partner in crime, ears up and tongue hanging in the wind

A better caretaker and babysitter I have yet to know

They pass through finite lives knowing an unimpeachable joy we can only wonder and share

Enjoying something as simple as walking with a friend down a dirt path, they find life at its core and attack it with love

A dog will never truly leave your side, though getting lost now and again seems to be their privilege

I was grown and raised alongside different dogs, each as unique as there are religions in the world, and I have no doubt of their affection for me.

I cannot find another creature in the world to equal their loyalty, they are not necessarily man’s best friend, but his truest soul, always parted too early.