Keep Walking

There’s a plastic bag taped to
a streetlight in my town protecting
a piece of computer paper
with a message of hope on it.

I read it once and learned
that caterpillars grow alone
and maybe I do, too.
But I knew that already.

I kept walking but the
caterpillar’s eyes made me
uncomfortable. They followed me
to see if I would listen this time.

A mosquito bit my arm
and I killed it.
It’s hard being hideous in
a world full of miracles.

Every time I pass the taped bag
there’s another piece of paper
with another message of hope.
Tomorrow I’ll walk a different way.

I want a small life

Not a big one or one that’s filled with stuff. Forget making a difference or impact; I want to make art and leave it at that.

Everybody wants to help, but nobody asks who wants it. So we create problems and pay other people to solve them.

A good life is a small life where my house is in order. Your life isn’t my life, so I’ll stay in my corner.

Think small and be small, I’m not trying to show off. Because when the show turns off what’s left is what’s right here.

Make it yours

I often find myself wanting to quote others. The education system has made me fearful of plagiarism (rightfully so), so citations are essential. But the system has also made me afraid of thinking for myself. I look outside myself for answers, and generating original ideas (if there is such a thing) isn’t a skill I’m expert at.

Here’s what I realized today: when you say somebody else’s words, that power becomes a part of you. You become one with whatever message those words hold, and you resonate at the same frequency. There’s a unicity of perspective engendered simply by the act of sharing.

IN-Q is my favorite poet, and today I tweeted a verse of his. It’s from his poem Say Yes from his new poetry collection, Inquire Within. It goes like this:

See, everywhere you are is where you’re supposed to be.

So hopefully you’re hopelessly

as lost as me,

’cause if you’re not, you oughta be.

from Say Yes by IN-Q

When I tweeted that, when I shared his words and gave him credit, the message was his but I was the vessel. We brought it to the world together, in mutual agreement. I felt the verse more when I wrote it down and shared it with others.

Don’t be afraid of saying what’s already been said. Everything has been said before, but not by you. You’re unique, and your voice is important. Only you can say it from your perspective.

Only you can make it yours.

What’s a Light?

What makes a light more meaningful: that it produces light, or that it shows us what’s right in front of us?

I missed 5 days, but Here’s a Poem

This week was the first time since July I missed some days of blogging. I was planing on going back and writing a blog for each day I missed, but that’s ridiculous. Better to start fresh. As I like to say, Nunc Coepi—now I begin. Now I begin to blog every day again, until the end of time.

I’ve made a commitment to start “creating” at least once a week. Right now, this means sitting down and free writing. I free wrote this past Tuesday and creating some interesting work. Here’s one of the thoughts (if you can call it that) that I created:

Reality is a broken rocking chair.  It’s uncomfortable and you can’t lean back as far as you’d like, but you sit in it and hope anyways.  Hope is dangerous.  I tell myself to stop hoping every day.  I say, “Don’t hope.  Make it happen.  Think it into existence and existence will follow suit.”  I am a father wearing a banana suit into Walmart.  His kids aren’t around, but he’s rehearsing his act. Uncomfortable resistance, too drastic to be saved for Halloween.  Why do I hate Halloween?

I like the first line and the line about the banana, but the rest doesn’t make too much sense (yet). I like writing and not knowing what it means. It’s the half-known world, the uncertain realm of the universe. Certainty bores me and cannot be trusted. I want to be okay with being uncertain, more like the weather. Less like construction plans.

Here’s to an uncertain life on a rock floating through nothingness.

Fallen, Forever

Fallen branches wait to be cleared and you now
drop leaves no longer useful. Every day new old leaves drop
and cover the trail again, reshaping it, untouching it. 
Decaying practicality, now open to opportunity.
Nobody has ever walked on my dead parts before—
you will not be the last. This moment is here but will be gone
soon and forever.

Walk by yourself or with another. 
Walk with a loved one or with an enemy. 
Whether you share visions or disagreements
soon you will be walking side-by-side to the same rhythm, 
left foot, right foot, trip. Not indifference but understanding 
will leave my woods today. Hope for another moment together 
soon and forever.

These seconds are rotting apples, sweet but tender. This day 
is a new beginning for the whole world. I am the world. 
This world is mine to live, celebrate, and ignore. 
Who will be the keeper of my destiny, if not myself? 
I hear the honeybee sing to the doe:
“Today is a good day to die.” 
So it is for me and my kingdom.