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Ottar Feb 2015
Rain drop rings, placed in puddles,
At the perfect place, and the perfect muddle
of time.

Beg the universe, to take charge put things,
In order, while the border of sanity, blurs a
vision of double. Losing it, feeling buried.

A double life, a day job, with no potential,
and spare time, where piranhas tears pieces
of time and me away. No time no need to worry.

Tenderness, is not ready to receive, what
is left, if it be known, if it be shown,
if it be seen, who is the master of the wind,
take flight.

Put up a kite, wait while flies, feel the tension,
and let it go, a kite tail may save a life.
Ottar Feb 2015
Social breaks and cultural ridges,
Double takes and building bridges,

Seems like ages, for twenty four hour wages,
Boys to men in uniforms, training in stages,

To be soldiers, first, Engineers, second,
Every province shares, before The Reckoning,

Hands calloused, hearts as well, hands hold a couple o' beers,
Which will rouse, the parts, when the day is done, with cheers!

Thing, an exercise called a bridge gallop, where
For two weeks and twenty two hours a day we share,

A work ethic to assemble and strip bridges built,
Practice for the real deal, with a unified will,

We all know when some one else is not lift-
ing their load, brothers in arms not using theirs,

But we built bridges, long day into night
we played Euchre, in the down time,
Short night into day, smoky rooms and beers,
In play, we called empty brown beer bottles,

Dead soldiers,

We became a unit, unified, by our trade,
Jack of all trades, master of none,

All of us were from Canada's various parts,
Building bridges, in the light, in the dark.

Assembling parts, to make a whole, bridge,
From bank seat, to bank seat,
It took many bridges, for Canada to meet,
The soldiers and Engineers, UBIQUE.
What I call The Reckoning is the first Gulf War
Bank Seat, definition - Each end of the bridge must sit on a bank seat of solid ground.
Unique Latin for Everywhere, motto of the Canadian Engineers
Ottar Feb 2015
tanked, no tide
fins fiddle, quiver so
to stay still and float,
territorial
fish bowl acre,
feeding frenzy for
one,
plastic plants placed
on rocks ranging in the round with rainbow
hues,
with unattractive algae, be-
ginning to creep up the glass
of once was a clear quartz cookie
jar, Joe is contained,
             no complaints,
he gets three free meals a day,
and is right now hearing the strains
of Cello Suites one through six,
light shining
into his ocean tide
pool,
waiting on me for his last
feeding of the day, then darkness
will fall and the false moonlight
will let him him be to play
or sleep...not knowing his
body of water is not the only
one!
Ottar Feb 2015
tell a story about your day,
like a stream of light that had you swimming
for your life, away from the dark cloud
d
e
s
c
e
n
d
i
n
g
as it tried to hide the welts pending
to blush with red, is that a self inflicted hue,
or has some coward, done that to you,

write your way out, type the keyboard hard,
spell the word tunnel, and escape through
the opening, hoping, that the change will
stay and it won't close until you run head-             __
on into the light, that is waiting at the end.............(    )

some sound so sure sweet safe solid citizens,

yet stay inspired,
not in a rainbow and cotton candy dandy
with streamers falling long and landing
on your head as multicoloured hair,

my stuff,
yeah I have stuff,
making sure to bring
my self down,
to a puddle where
I might drown,
if I stay down there
long enough,
I use words and their double
meaning and edges,
throw myself
against the thorny hedges,
self esteem has bruises
deep, ....let me sleep
from sunset to sunrise
through the day,
no compromise.

I stay inspired,
by all of you that
place your vulnerability
place your brilliancy
place your life
moments

as an inspired observer,
stay inspired, read
(don't go anywhere without breathing out)

because then your body will make you breath in
what will you take to,
how will you make it,
who will shake, shake your world view,
for your sake,
letting you know we could not be here without you.

Stay inspired, I am not the only that needs you.
Strong content
Ottar Feb 2015
Forecast was for rain,
Misdiagnosed a pain,
What we got was mist,
That hung in the air, tiny cysts,
That clung, to pant legs,
To sleeves, to skin and
To the glasses, that beheld
Them,
Like spots before my eyes,
As all passed through them.

The Collective heaviness,
Was not felt but the steadiness,
Of the curtain after curtain of,
Droplets on fine twine, some seed
beaded Macrame, threaded not
Threatening, to pass the time as
You pass their way, they keep the
Peace
And soak you as an afterthought.
Hippies dripping in love,
A mist for the generations.
We have had a little constant rain ...lately, often.
Ottar Feb 2015
Twenty hours to develop a skill,
Not become an expert but a will
and a way to make sense and play,
do with finesse, an aptitude that stays,
to build
upon the
hours of
basic ability,
A knack.

Not twenty hours out of twenty four,
Nor ten thousand hours of the master
             craftsman, or journeyman too.

Measure each moment, on a stop watch,
hurry not to or from, savour time as your
very own,
not on loan,
neither a
borrower
or a lender
be, of time
dedicated
to your betterment,
better me not,
and bless my soul,
if twenty hours is the time,
one hour a day would be sublime,
success is merely a fortnight away,
if you have the foresight to stay the course!
For Twenty Hours.
Inspired by a TED talk.
Ottar Feb 2015
Cinder block chunked
Load it on paper weighted
          Sobbing erodes all
Find strength, when needed
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