Adrift


Adrift,

with neither an anchor to port nor the wind to support its sails,

inhaling

is the sole solution for moving forward – giving purpose to movement –

exhaling

seems a betrayal of all that was lost when life kept its promises:

– constant change – what is born must die – what laughs must cry – no experience is a lie, yet all experiences are lies because they are not constant.

Adrift

 – our state whether known or unknown, contentment only coming with the belief that God’s hands will guide us – no God means no home –

either way – what is born must die – what laughs must cry – no experience is a lie, yet all experiences are lies because they are not constant.

The Wisdom of Kings

Dreams are the wisdom

       of Kings you see

that can bend the world

       to their likes and dislikes –

we are but servants of desire and need.

   

Corporation fostered fantasies

       we are ready to heed –

for them we will sacrifice,

       toil and fight.

Dreams are the wisdom of kings you see,

   

and they will make you think

       you too can be free.

Reveling in darkness, while

       never knowing the light,

we are but servants of desire and need

   

and of our nature they’ll take

       advantage and feed –

their own desires giving

       strength to their might.

Dreams are the wisdom of kings you see

   

and those kings will pretend to be

       like you and like me,

and we’ll wind their noose around

       our necks real tight –

we are but servants of desire and need.

   

But clinging to love

       the only truth that is pure

we can drop the bonds

       and revel in peace.

Dreams are the wisdom

       of Kings you see –

useless to those in search of the Queen.

Ad Libs

1, 2, 3, 4 – 1, 2 – 1, 2, 3,

1, 2, 3, 4 – 5, 6 – 7, 8, 9

The pitter patter of my life is like a 9 beat song – pitter patter – well – more like I stomp through it hoping for the best, with head down, and glancing both ways to dodge those 8 beat bangers and 6 beat romantics – knocking into others as I don’t figure into their rhythm – grooving to 9 means you probably can’t jam out with friends, instead you’re careful that this word, this look, this smile expresses this moment in a way that others can understand, and feel natural about, it can look – unperturbed – apathetic – cool to outsiders, but in reality is always one ad lib away from total self-destruction.

This is a cool 9 beat (at least that’s how I hear it) song written by Rhiannon Giddens and performed by Our Native Daughters

Glory

We scream as we

enter this world

and numb ourselves

to the pain

as we leave it,

yet without limits

we glorify these limbs

as a God

in whose image

we’re painted,

meanwhile,

the bulk of our life

is spent with sagging skin,

fat spilling out

in odd places,

weathered eyes tell the story

of our closest friend

– pain –

the one true love

that is fated.