It changed me
  The way I see the world
A saw the sacred scrolls
The woven numbers
Layered beneath reality
It Left me a touch of strange
a hint of madness
But greater understanding

the second hardest thing
you'll ever do?

being
successfully concluded

~~~~~~~

The hardest thing to do?

being
strong,
for everyone else.

This is a poem that I didn't plan on writing,
didn't want to write,
but ******
you can't control
psychic blasts from
out of nowhere,
triggers without
warnings
~~~
Six hours ago,
received a message,
  (see below)
another one,
from a fellow poet here

dear god,
it knocks me
six feet deeper
than the six foot grave
that I was already
sunk down in

Lest you think,
this poem is about me,

here's hoping you don't read it,

(since its likely to be
long ,
now, so out of fashion,
most have hopefully skipped ready away)

cause it *is about me,
courage and
how
I came to write my own
Declaration of Independence

savings lives,
a life all along
part time happenstance habit,
sometimes called
giving a ****,
gets me in to trouble
especially,
when I'm the one in trouble,
cause any normal person,
thinks foremost first,
who the **** is
gonna save me?

my nine lives
long ago used up,
but was hoping
nobody important noticed,
could squeeze a few more
resurrection revival miracles,
from a body that is nearer to
seven decades
than the mere two,
of most of you

so out of work, told,
you dude, don't cut it anymore
worrisome noise, expected, now realized,
was sleep depriving,
cause
I got
mouths to feed

tea and sympathy,
please don't feed me,
cause what I learned
from a life of
giving encouragement,
is the final story,
the way its gotta end,
is at the place
where your sign name to,
the one, the only,
dotted lined destiny that can be called
successfully concluded,
by drawing down,
one mo' time,
your very
own
residuals for believing,
even when your driving
on fumes,
you manage on

which is how I came to write
these ten words, a summary of my future
Declaration of Independence

The hardest thing to do,
being strong,
for everyone else

no matter the state of your state,
lifetime habits don't die,
just go underground for awhile,
spent my independent soul's currency
taking care of others,
getting little in return
only the greatest
Un,
the Un expected,
high of the
reciprocal of kindness

bumps and grinds,
had my fair share,
always bounce back,
coming out better, stronger and better,
but they've put new obstacles in the course,
which makes it that much harder

so wrestling with this contra-diction:
that to be independent,
is the sum of dependency of others
on the works of your hands

when a message arrives
a penetrating light
that strips your gloomy inward lookings,
outward,
the re-direction, a gift of a reminder,
Perspective

once you offer to be depended on,
you can be never go back,
you gone and purchased (and sold)
a one-way ticket,
with no expiration,
the only
kind
for sale

so I refill my metrocard,
one more time,
but the machine doesn't accept
anybody's else's words of encouragement,
then you pocket dig a little deeper,
deeper than the six
you already in,
and pull out,
amidst the
lint and schmutz,
your last dime,
laughing all the time

for you know better than most,
to be independent
is to swear allegiance
to those who
depend on you,
writing down a poem
of sacred honor,
and herein nominated, seconded
and signed,
as your very own
Declaration of Independence

cause kids,
I read the original Declaration
from 1776,
which concludes:

"We mutually pledge to each other our Lives,
our Fortunes and our
sacred Honor"

NML
~~~~~
July 4th, 2015

~~~

"When she was a young girl, Clemantine displayed the large courage to endure genocide. In this essay she displays the courage of small things: the courage to live with feelings wide open even after trauma; the maturity to accept unanswerable ambiguity; the tenacity to seek coherence after arbitrary cruelty; the ability to create tenacious bonds that have some give to them, to allow for the mistakes others make; the unwillingness to settle for the simple, fake story; and the capacity to look at life in all its ugly complexity."

David Brooks, NY Times, July 7, 2015
"The Courage of Small Things"
~~~

and you ask yourself
could I write this any better,

and you no/know/no
the answer well before the asking

but these combinations of letters
don't mere resonate,
they sound bells, all kind of bells,
wind chimes, mean car alarms, church bells, door bells,
sounds of nature soothing,
harsh noises so terrible
only humans can devise and extract,
not found in nature

the ringing sound of
the compartments of your brain,
clashing for predominance,
each with their own agenda,
and you silence them and write

thus compelled,
to review, define truths egocentrically,
examine your spatial perceptions,
ask the better, important question

do I have the courage of small things?

The easy answer is a runaway
yes or no,
the certitude of a familiar self-
(confidence, hate, righteousness, loathing),
the sadness of deprecation,
the pleasure of surety

and you know,
even the fools know,
neither are true answers,
only easy ways out

you chew and chew each small courage,
acknowledging insufficiency on any scale,
some here and there, maybe as good as average,
some here and there, far worse than most

in only one do grant yourself a passing grade,
and even that,
barely, minimally

"the capacity to look at life
in all its ugly complexity."

for here you are,
measuring and minding,
tallying and totaling,
in full public view,
knowing what only you know,
if, you this small courage, possess

I answer diffidently, fearfully, dangerously,
treading the line

in this above all, I must be a striver,
for all else,
even the simplest life,
is complex beyond reason,
see the ugly, say the ugly out loud,
permit to admit

for without this first step,
threshold, door jamb, Styx crossing,
you will never be able to summon,
you will never possess
the starting line courage of
asking and answering,
running when the starter pistol fires,
in a manner
unexcused, undisguised, fully disclosed,
and find the
beauty in
simplicity

do I have the courage
to do the summming up
of my smallest things,
that together
are truly
courage writ
large?

~~~
July 8, 2015
8:00am
NML

Life is a journey that never ends,
A lesson that we'll take 'til the world ends,
We meet new people that sometimes becomes our inspiration,
But sometimes becomes our distress.

He gives us challenges day-to-day,
To make us stronger than yesterday,
Even though we're about to give up,
He's always there to lift us up.

No matter what decision we'll make,
Always think of the consequences it will take,
Chances that we didn't take,
Are worst than the moments that we'll never forget.

We should forget injuries,
But not the kindnesses,
We should learn how to cry,
But you should know how to wipe.

Life is an endless process of learning,
Extra patience is what you'll be needing,
Try to take it easy,
And you'll probably have a perfect journey.

Home* is where you feel safe and secure
And feel like you belong.

It doesn't have to be a place nor someone,
It could be books — reading for all I know.

As long as you're happy with it,
I'm glad to see you smile.
As you deserve it,
To be **happy once in a while.