Ropes are an arbitrary constituent of
My often meandering campaign of self-sufficiency
Where often times I find myself wondering
If I were elected or selected for my role as the dejected

So the sudden appearance
Of this length of rope
Attached somewhere up above in obscurity
To dangle before me as innocently as a kids swing
Or as menacingly inviting as a 13 Loop hangman's noose

Timing is often the real hero
Or culprit
Of any grand production
Whether on the stage or in the simple act
Of oneself coming of age

With open eyes as I taste the lies
That had become so familiar to the script
That I never even trip
As the words  would slip
Lifeless and indistinguishable
From my hapless lip

There was a time as I wandered
Around the cracked and worn down
Asphalt parking lot in my mind
Seeking a parking spot and often finding
Naught- as once again the daily spin
Had ushered in
That loud and obnoxiously redundant crowd
Of oxygen-dependent hypocrites
That look and sound and think
Just like me

That then is the point where I begin
To accept that no parking spot exists
As I make the endless loops and twists
Assuming that I can convince myself
It's just my bad luck
To be looking left- as I drove right by
What obviously I must have missed

LIE... an absolute  lie !!

Right there in front of me like a flashing Neon traffic cone
So even if I close my eyes
To pretend that I don't recognize and realize
Its very existence
But I know and I saw  and I heard
It all... The very second that it occurred
As the blinding flash so intense
As to make me wince
As it penetrates my fragile human eyelids

I am there
So disengaging  the  useless gear
Setting the brake... For my stranded
Almost abandoned
Soul's sake

Killing the ignition as a form of contrition
Open the door and take the key... As if it were a part of me
Wondering what was the reason for
Being that a crowd of me
Would actually steal anything from myself
Wait a minute...
... I've already been doing that. A lot
A whole parking lot

I cannot stay here among the throng
For very long
Reminding me of just how wrong
A man can really be

I need to walk and walk
Let my inner voice and my fragile shell
Have a long past due talk
As a way to maybe break the spell '
So with a swift  backward glance
Gave to me that welcome chance....
... To see
That this was my lot in life
Where what I was leaving behind
was in fact...
Right there- right where it belonged
Parked in the very parking spot
I had been looking for
That that I had had all along all along

A crowded mind
Makes it extremely hard to find
The power in taking the lead...
By helping out
That part of yourself that sometimes goes blind

There is not an easy fix or magic tricks
Or any color wax to fill in all the nicks
No school books or rule books
No tools hidden in some obscure nooks
That the ID or the EGO somehow always overlooks

So with wide open eyes
as
I'm walking
in circles
Endless circles
So when that rope materialized
Weary to the bone I'm so dreadfully tired

As if in quicksand I were mired

And so concerned
About the way my directions had turned
I continued determinedly onward
To work out the kinks and find the weak links

   Determined to identify
As I learn to rely
On my ability to accept
That
To try is to try
Only I will ever know
The depth of that turn
Or the heights of my concern
Or when
I yanked myself
Back up to the surface

The circles that I now walk
Knowing that I have not a single clue
Where or which way I'm going
No sign posts or  monuments to mark the horizon

I'm noticing
That these circles
As I hold on to this rope
ARE
Getting smaller as to shorten the distance
Between the times I wallow in
The incendiary and intrusive and abusive
As the future will be
Filled with those inconclusive reasons why
Across this path over and over and over again
With increasingly diminishing respite

No loss is ever absolute if the resolute
Soul of man can accept that there's always
A plan when looking with more than just eyes
While hearing with more than just the ears
Believing what was heard is more than just word upon word
Hope is as I am now at the crossroads of hope
A sunny  field of dew - tinged flowers

As that rope has led me down to simple single turns
Each time completing a circle
No slack left
But I am far far from bereft
As I am now aware of where
I am
The end of the rope
And therefore out of Hope?
Nope !!

' I  at the U turn
The New Direction
The ever-expanding revelations
The lengthening and strengthening of my path
And able now to see my false trail end

So with key in hand
I  reverse course and with no remorse
I'm going back to that spot
In that now empty parking lot
Marveling at that now pristine silence
So now we have a much lighter load
I turn the key put my life in gear
And get back out on the road

Oh how I love a good road trip

Far beyond
The coming dawn
I sail through a purpose driven
Alert to any alarm
To avoid any harm
To this wonderous gift given
Sometimes the view aloft
Hard edges appear as soft
But be not fooled and pulled into its clutches
So many rail at how they fail
By seeking to curtail your ability to sail
That juggernaut of jealousy
Destroying all that it touches
Blind devotion
To a false emotion
Would leave them could they sail

With unconscionable fear
As beauty would appear
That to live sans purpose is alarming to know
That distance lost
When a life goes stale

Far beyond the view seen
Time awaits those caught between
The two worlds pulled together
Those reasons left behind
When closing down an open mind
Accepting with no knowledge that you had been bound down by thoughtless tether

Thinking with devotion
To your own trust and vision
Will sever the tether that bound down
Giving life to hope by simply accepting....
.... that it is
your own decision .

To be purpose driven

Taken in
by the pagan spin
of abusive words spoken to repair what they won't  admit ...is broken
no civilized advancement comes stepping up to convincingly rent
All intwined like a wayward vine
Bending and twisting completely devoid of any spine
No amount of concentration
Allows me the sleightest indication
How one can collude with others of such attitude
Void of fairplay or honor
consistant in attempting to intrude

My pillow would turn to solid stone
My mind would beg for me to please atone
The dismal days I'd have could I climb out of bed
The pain would hover over filling me with dread

Each day to weigh heavier like a growing cancer
That knowledge that a question awaits an answer
That I could not acknowledge by truth I know
Nor can I go down the list...that liars row
To insult others as well as my own sacred being

If you sleep with ease I do wonder

HOW MANY DEMONS are you no longer FLEEING ?

By pure chance and Circumstance
I fell headlong into a romance
Of a kind I've never even dreamed
A love so intense at a distance so immense
So to this truth I make no pretense
How far beyond the pale of reality it seemed
Not as time passed not as days go by
Even though......
Within 10 minutes of text talk
I realize now I became addicted
No drug I've ever used casually or abused
Has ever left me that quickly afflicted
Chemical imbalance suddenly existed
A need so strong not to be resisted
How to come to terms I had to admit
I was getting stupid ...becoming a fool
I saw it clear as glass but I couldn't quit
She listened to me rambling on... stumbling....falling
My need to constantly text her
to constantly be calling
Though I slowly came to determine
That addiction
Was not the problem
It was the cravings I begin to fear
Laying it out best I could saying if you can't deal it's understood
To which she said baby I'm not going anywhere

And I flew off on gossamer wings
To dance upon ephemeral clouds
Slide down the rainbow slope
Immersed in the cheering of invisible crowds
Whose encouragement gave me reason to believe
That maybe I was worthy of such great heights
Not to the Moon as so often it is said
Instead
To believe someone with whom I can dance with among the starlites

So it was thru my poetry that we came to meet
Saying she loved the poem she just read
It was when she read the pages of my novel
Saying the same words that so many others have also said
So my only explanation... that makes sense of it is ...
..... many had told me you are good you need to finish
Knowing that I had let doubt cause me to quit
Knowing I had started so strong and let it all diminish
It was those on Hello Poetry who read and encouraged
Pulling me up from my hole  to help me stand
Taking me to the edge of the pool and saying we know you can swim
Whereas  she did the same... only.... she got into the water with me....
.... and took me by the hand

I was immersed!!
    

There on the wrinkled landscape
Of  topographical coloration
I blast two staccato echoes
A subtle shrill arpeggio at fade out
So subtle a difference that I can't say I hear it
Though I am the director
Of that whistles orchestration

Far across the valley bottom camouflaged by pattern
They will appear somewhere among that sea of white
The receivers pop up in mirrored action
Tiny pinpoints of color among the sea of white
I don't need to be able to see them to know
The exchange of glances anticipation of coming attraction
This is what they live for.... that call to attention
As they await like teenagers or #45 for another tweet

Glancing now at each other and aware
Of that growing sense of  anxiety among their charges
My hesitation stemmed from viewing all the Majesty
But I am aware from way up here of the tension below
And with the valleys steeped in ever darkening shadow
The two miles trek to the awaiting gate and the holding pen
I blow a quick quip to start Sas  and Rocket to bring em in
Then as if of 1 mind they lead em home ...leading from behind

An  addiction to action where by  almost supernatural
Is their ability to move by nip and slip around the throng
Attentive to any wayfarers lost in transit
Encouraging less enthusiastic or lost youngster to move along
Sending the adolescents screaming in terrorized panic
As they are  absorbed into the mass of slow moving wool
And only after the last one of them passes thru ...do
The pair allow themselves ...with the closing of the gate

That romp of triumphant joyfull play as they await their reward
They will receive for their day of working like a dog
That bowl of food that awaits them is secondary to the real prize
To that smile and well done pat on the head or belly scratch

From their beloved master for that is really what they live for!!!

Every so often as we move along the trail
We meet those who walk along beside us
Some for just a few steps before a direction change
Others a step and two - you start looking for a bus

So rare when out of nowhere a sojourner steps in
At least that's what it seems to be ...then after a time
You realize you really don't know who joined who
So rare is the honor given and recieved that sublime

Is the word that seems fitting due to.. its rarity of use ...
... height and breadth of its inclusionary valuation
Finding the courage to walk the highwire of conversation
Without a net and that is not the normal inclination

A breath of fresh air through a dusty dead air space
Conversation so often drags along creating a rut
But time harmonizing along the trail a foot or endless mile
Has a key to locked doors and  inspired need to open windows

That I as I'm sure ,like so many others,  have.....
                         at some sad impulse driven moment ...nailed shut !!

( a gift was written this morning at the request of a friend ,for her sister - who puts her hopes in dreams.)

Life would be too perfect
Were it all just a dream
But does that mean it won't be
When all the past is seen

In so much hurry to grow up
Like all kids do I suppose
Now we have our own example
Each with a mini me and only Lord knows

OMG all those times we had
All those vacations at Lake Wapapella we shared
LOL along with the owner's son who liked me best
And how we would wander off in our world of dreams
I love our lives together back then along with the rest

Our shared lives without the intrusion
Of petty lies alibis..well one intrusion did occur
When love was tossed into loss and pain, jealousy and confusion

But like I said life would be perfect were it a dream
That sad maddening time when life interferes
Were that a dream more nightmare I swear
I would wake myself by my screaming drowning in my tears

We sure seem to be sharing life again
In so many indescribable Ways and Means
Where someday soon  again we will share our physical beings
Where we will again be able to share those late-night talks of life and love and dreams


So Michelle never let your dreams Slide Away or be tossed
Time has a wicked sense of humorous abstraction
For nothing is ever forgotten or ever lost
Sometimes it seems they reappear by means of distraction
But in any dream....there is one thing I will never lose
Is that we still have each other and our shared commonality
And that is a dream wrapped up in a dream packed in a box for delivery called reality

And that has to be one of lifes most wonderful gifts.
And what dreams are made from .

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