How Merciless Life Can Appear

Greed and Envy
Two Very Important ailments
To transform to virtues
Of jewel toned wisdom

Greed- perhaps the fuel for Envy
Envy- the philosophy of jealousy
Carefully contrived
From noting all “that isn’t fair”

What appoints us the judges
Of how things “should be”
Rather than living the knowledge
Of love from the heart

Sold on the “having”
Rather than the “giving”
Or Being or Aspiring
Drops us off to a life
Of living in the monotony
Of the gerbil wheel

Keeping us primitive & captive
To the insatiable lust
For others to tend to our care
Rather than grow our own gardens
And trusting in the destiny of our own devise.

Choosing a Therapist

It must be scary
Trying to find a therapist
Choosing from some list
Will this person
Be kooky or bright
And will one know
What they know
Is accurate

A stranger in the scant naked crevices
Of the heart of the matter.
One couldn’t help but wonder
Do they have some sort of mind power
That could read behind the anguish
Or sort through the thoughts.

Probably a bleeding, commi, liberal
Who turns one away from guns
And gets a person meditating.
Talking about feelings.

What if it’s too hard to get what that is
And feel the hollow
Of the body cavity
Burrowing through everything
The insidious shame
That shadows existence
Shielding one from lovability

If the truth be known
What will be revealed at the core
Will the tears flood out
The stains on self illusion
And will the truth really set one free?

Wish You Were Here

Rooms once connected
Are now coffined off
Into isolated containers
Of what was once shared

The pursurer
Got tired of the role
Not yet prepared to die
But knew life took a toll

The elusive one
The partner that has always held back
Escaped behind the stage
In the blackness of camouflage

Quietly the house aches and sways
Tired of the promises
From the days of energetic hope
Open to whatever, in the name of ambivalence.

The Rules of Our Game

Each couple has
Their own way
To repeat their patterns
From childhood stark lessons

Meandering through
The secret gardens
Of the palace
Of the mind

Where we all decide
Despite what wise and elders have advised
Where in the mass puzzle
We design our lives

The rules are often vague
While some are filled with repetitive, repetitive ritual and theme
Or either being the fall guy
Or the vibrant hunter

Who shall be the heavy
And the academy award performance of the victim
Can it be the aimless role
Or the frustrated organizer, like an ancient sheep herder

The rules of the game fully exist
Clouding fantasies with cast systems
And fated Karma
Convoluting expectations to wardrobes
With many try on possibilities.

Rules and roles
Not always so credible, but achievable
Vague nuances
Of what may never be consciously adhered to.

From the Little That You Knew

Trapped in the burdens
Of the roles your parents made you take
And how did you handle danger
How all did you cope
From the little that you knew,
How the world assigns us an identity
That can completely steal
One’s identity
Clear out of the ball park.

How unreasonable
Is it to have to assume
That your home life
Was the normal
From the little that you knew

Hiding and isolating
In the sanctity of a closet
Or ice skating every day
On the thinnest pieces of ice
Knowing something had to crack
And wondering if being explosive
Would change the scenery
From the little that you knew
You knew something wasn’t right

So we learn to shut the emotions off
Like hot water from rusty old pipes
We head for the darkness
Far from the protruding sounds
Hide away until the revolution is over
Or at least, the next battle lost
From the little that you knew
You understood what it would be like
To be beside yourself

From the little that you knew
Cannon balls exploded
Changing the tiny, child, terrain of your life
Just in the flick of a match
How hard it must be
To live in perpetual fear
Of annihilation