And I like you...

You are my caffeinated friend.

You love slowly passing out of existence in the dark pit of my bowels...

Bringing me frozen-eyed, pounding-headed, churning-stomached energy of a most unnatural sort...

Yes.

I like you very much...

I check myself: for what is life without joy? Forgive my recent darkness.

For sale: One (1) human brain, male; mostly highway miles, but with recent heavy use: (a lot of burnouts); New ideas, new fears, new clutch, (slips a little); Power windows, cruise Control; Overall good condition, some surface rust, needs TLC; Does not pass smog; Good restoration project; 10 good nights of sleep OBO; Will consider trade for very large mocha.

I feel tired. Tired of compromise. Tired of giving in, doing what you want to do every damn time. Tired of putting out all the effort, with nothing but an absent-minded, 'O yeah, thanks.' in return. Do you understand me? No. Do you wish to understand me? No. For of course, that doesn't matter, 'cause we're friends, right? Yet I sacrifice all to understand and accommodate you. No hard feelings. Just tired, that's all.

So I published a couple of poems that have found their way out of my scrambled brains over the last few days. It's always good to be expressive, but sometimes I wonder where this stuff really comes from...

Rainy Day

Misty day…cold, wet
Dripping trees, not awake yet
The comfort of the empty room
Dark and pleasant as a tomb
Baseboard heater ticks by the wall
Cobwebs and silence in the hall
Skeletal trees scratch the roof
Books on the shelf remain aloof
Blackbirds wheel in a grey metal sky
All the earth seems to let out a sigh

Father

O father filled with stern nobility
Worn out hands, worn out body
How mysterious such gentle paternity!
Upright, steady, formidable, free
Yet tenderness flowing from deep-set eyes
Love for dear mother so plain to see
Leaner and leaned-on, depth beyond sighs
O pillar of strength!
O lover so kind!
For family love’s length
Will weather all time

This Idyllic Life

Morning light, empty commons,
Brutal, thick coffee;
The smell of boxed eggs always sickens
But thoughts are mellow and free.
Relentless clock, squint-eyed friends
Alone, but surrounded by
All that absent-minded, self-blinded sappy goodwill

Morning classroom, untethered mind,
Sharp, perceptive man;
The scrape of cold chalk always sickens
Thoughts are jumpy and tan.
Motionless clock, scratch-head friends
Alone, but surrounded by
A world-in-your-head, stomach of lead, sunlit window-sill

Morning over, seething commons,
Loud, hope-filled lunch;
Fake Chinese always sickens
But fortunes pass round as we munch.
Relentless clock, laughing friends
Alone, but surrounded by
Charity true, spilled carrot stew, empty glasses to fill

Afternoon classes, sleep-clogged eyes,
Droning, senseless voices;
Hot, stagnant classroom always sickens
Heads bob without choices.
Motionless clock, restless friends
Alone, but surrounded by
So many half-trying, potato-faced, quivering wills

No more classes, sunset sky,
Relaxed, smiling faces;
In the evening air nothing sickens
Looser tie, looser laces.
Motionless clock, lawn-lounging friends
Alone, but surrounded by
A gold-dipped, sweet-aroma-ed haven in the hills

Pipeline...
A lifeline.
A sign
Of fine
Old ones
Making their way;
Across the tines
Of life---
And
No one
No;
No one
Comprehends the rhymes

I've thought lately about many things, but perhaps the most prevalent of these contemplations is the notion that people can do better than that which they settle for. Now, that I am not a good judge of many things I am sure of; however, it seems as if many people think, 'O, I can't do any better, and no one supports me anyways' or something along these lines. My reply to them is: WHERE ARE YOUR BALLS??!!! There is so much to be gained, so much that can be done, experienced, accomplished, improved, enjoyed, loved, cherished! Who wants to 'make do' when that means wallowing in your own self-defeat and laziness? Now I know that ambition can be harmful, and I know that life needs a certain order, meekness and peace; but where is the wonder? Where is the teary-eyed passion of discovery, the curiosity that carries you off to places and things most people don't even think of? God Himself is in each and every thing, and each new experience, each new conversation, each new memory leads to greater apprehension and appreciation of His incredible gifts. This world is truly marvelous, and though we are not destined to stay here, I believe that we were meant to rejoice in it while we are here, as a gift that contributes to our temporal happiness, and as a sign of His unfathomable love.

Filtering through the mind of the child
That lives within my soul
Thoughts of joy and hope so styled
Not close to the moment's pull

Free on the wind I fly
Seeing the sunlit evening
And the quiet houses sigh
Resting in the young ones singing

The vision of a life at slower pace
Without the loss of fullness
Children, a wife? Beauty and grace
Life for love of others; for self less

Though perfect we cannot here be
'Worry not; rejoice' for we are loved
Sacrifice and obedience set us free
Both good and evil given; have we loved?

And the boy that is me cries; small
There is such loveliness among the sharp stones
We were made for joy after all
We are not alone. HE makes smooth the stones

Ink in the eye
Black cloud sky
You defy
No alibi
Soon to fly
Perhaps to fry
Change is nigh
Passions high
Above them lie
Softly cry
By and by
Only to sigh

Going to seminar, not quite done with the reading but on fire...overflowing with new thoughts, questions and affirmations. Good stuff.

Keep on truckin'

This has been the apathetic math I can remember. Our tutor asking around the table an one after another shaking their heads. No one knew what the homework had even been, let alone did it. And I am as guilty as them. What happens to us here at this school? Everyone moans and gripes and gets depressed and there is not even a reason for it. I mean, they will sit and tell you that it's because of this or that and rationalize it, but it all comes to very little. I wonder, and I am saddened. I myself have not lost my fire for the intellectual life, and I have been mostly successful in avoiding the complaining and depression, yet I have become lazy from the apathy around me, and I have let the perceived brightness of the outside world distract me from the present task. I am in love with learning, and I crave knowledge, but my body and soul demand something else, something hard to define. Perhaps hard work would fulfill me in part; perhaps I am restless because I have never quite lived as my own man, free from immediate authority. I don't know. In any case, I search daily for intellectual motivation and hope that the future will greater understanding and greater discipline.

What to say...? Plans never go according to plan. Friends remain friends even when they let you down. You get over the embarrassing things you do and say when you are over-tired. There are far more desperately unhappy people in this world than we realize---and this is largely due to themselves. Food is good. So are Cloves. So is coffee...black. Sometimes the most uplifting and mind-clearing thing is a good road trip. Trust among people is the most difficult and also the most affecting thing we can achieve. It is important to occasionally pause in the continual stream of advice, admonitions, and solution-providing and simply notice the other person. Just to listen to who they are, what they think, how they feel about things. Life is so unpredictable; and it such a comfort to know that it is not necessary to understand everything. Take a walk. Think about ??? Talk to Him. Love yourself. Be happy. Find joy and bring its light into others' weary lives.

"The sun it was hot, the day it was warm; said I, 'a quiet pint wouldn't do me no harm.'"

The time has come to drink and to talk and to catch up with dear old friends that have been sorely neglected. Some things will never change, some friendships will never die; and though life and distractions come and go, the desire to make amends, to renew the connection, to laugh and smoke and drink comes to you in the lazy afternoon.

Of other times and other things:

Seeing something that makes you wince
Because it moves you too much
Cringing (because is isn't real) and trying to convince
Yourself to forget the feelings such...
The consuming emotions that strangle and crush
But wait---
Turning around it is before you again
This time real, and perfect and tame
Is it the same
Is it the same?
And stupid and blundering though you be
desperately aware of responsibility
The proper order peeps out from the fog
And you see the way things are supposed to be
And there is excitement in this tossing sea...
Looking out the window, ya crow:'YEAH DOG!'

After an unusual absence I return to the realm of Blog. My mind last night was filled with odd philosophical musings...what about the need to find oneself? How justifiable is this, and how selfish? Does it take too much away from our loved ones? But we are still, and always will be, individuals; and sometimes it becomes necessary to uncover and face one's own darkness. And the only light here is the Dove. I feel a confidence and a contentment in everything at the moment---yet life is as uncertain as it has ever been. So, with this unreasoning trust, here is something that is not really a poem, but perhaps something like it...

the best thing about thursday was mimi's cafe.
when she came back she sat in my seat instead of her own

the best thing about friday was forgetting it was friday and going to bed early.
i wonder...

the best thing about saturday was the ocean sunset after a day of sand dunes hot dogs and tide pools. (except maybe craftily paying for A.'s dinner to his grinning consternation.)
a peaceful day. the first in eons.

the best thing about sunday was sitting by the pool with my tired siblings and the (2) sisters, singing and strumming guitar like hippie folk singers.
who cares what you do as long as you are with those you care about.

the end.

Ha!

Talking with a caring friend is the best thing for curing late-week, low-energy dejection. Life is often a little burdensome, but God gives us those unexpected moments with those you did not even realize were your friends. Just a short talk, (about anything or everything) and all the clouds lift. And the funny thing is, you may never have a deep conversation with them again, but it is okay because we can see something of God's plan in it; a simple gift that shows His love for us and His desire for us to be happy.