I often wonder how people deal with their work environments.
And if the profession they work are the chosen field that they always dreamed about in middle or high school.
For the most part, truly do hope at least half of the people work the professions of their dreams, and that have found happiness and fulfillment.
But, what do the other half do?
And, is that other half ‘happy and fulfilled?’
If not, how do they change?
Can they change?
I turn and
turn my wheel,
but the helm
seemed not
to respond.
It wasn’t the helm
at all,
but a
current that
wouldn’t let
go.
A test
of wills
then….
So be it.
I swear,
I didn’t kill them!
I heard how they died.
They were killed by
electronic keyboards,
trumpets.
And I heard them
die terrible deaths
bludgeoned,
Hacked!
I could hear the blood
of those notes
spreading across
a wooden floor.
Please, help!
Help my poor
ears!
From the diameter the tents
and tarps stretches
into infinity
Small, large,
they never reach
three stories but
Only two:
Poverty and
Deeper poverty.
The cities surround
Skyscrapers of
Glass,
but no one
lives in them.
A billion
electronic eyes
lookin’ down upon
billions of people….
No loaves of bread
will never again be stolen,
Water regulated by the
highest dollar.
Low lying lands
drowned
by swellin’
oceans of
plastic.
But who
owns
Who?
I served two in the Iraqi War,
A decorated veteran
I won a Senate seat
Then two turns as President….
(I only made it to Wisconsin….)
I like the majority of the poor
make a living wage,
afford decent housing
never threatened
with homelessness….
I am free.
Decades ago,
there were two little boys:
One was a Christian, the other
of logic and reason.
The Christian boy,
because he loved his
friend so much,
spent time to try to
covert his friend to the
holy spirit.
The other little boy,
begun his life long career
In spiritual warfare
And devoted himself to
Gnosis and victory over
all who attacked
him with crosses
and bible.
The boys,
still friends but now
men.
One is employed,
One is not….
I have never thought very much about living to the age of 58, but here I am.
Sometimes I look back at my life like someone looking down from a very tall building.
I have never enjoyed heights.
Until I remember that I once thought I wouldn’t live pass age 24.
My joy at this moment is mixed, I do have a small smile on my face.
It saddens me,
my dreads
are an urban skyline,
made from
many strands.
But they
had seen better days:
No one seems to live there.
There are very few pretty things to write about at rock bottom.
Here, there is little light, and the mushrooms talk to you if you eat them.
Honestly, I don’t want to sink any further than where I am now. I only want to climb back up this well, and see the light of day….
Life Raft In The Abyss 