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Ron Sparks May 2016
You've been here before.  You woke up today and realized that the stress, the angst, and the foreboding that you've allowed to rule your life is there by choice.  You've gotten lost in the spiral of anxiety, again.

If it's not your health, it's your money.  If it's not the money, it's your kids.  If it's not your kids, you're worried about past life choices and how they will affect you tomorrow.  Your fears line up at the door, wrap around the block, and await their turn.  Your door is open to them all and you don't deny them.  You let them in.  

Once they are inside, you wrap your fears around you.  They’re a welcome smothering; a wearying security blanket of trembling phobia.  They are as familiar to you as they are distressing.  These constant, restless, companions are more comfortable than the unknown.  

Today, though, you stare at the line of fears and realize that something is missing.  Happiness.  Contentment.  Acceptance.  These are conspicuous in their absence.  And you remember an old Cherokee tale.  You have two wolves engaged in eternal battle inside you; one is fear and anxiety and the other is peace and serenity.  The strongest is the one you feed and you've been feeding the wrong wolf.  

You've done this your entire life in a self-centered, selfish, guilt-ridden, indulgent, fashion.  You wallow in the darkness because you're afraid you don't deserve the light.

You know you’ll feed the right wolf today.  But can you do it tomorrow?  

  mighty river;
the fish navigates
​as it will
Haibun is a prosimetric literary form originating in Japan, combining prose and haiku. The range of haibun is broad and frequently includes autobiography, diary, essay, prose poem, short story and travel journal.
Ron Sparks May 2016
red cardinal
alights nearby -
  notices me
Ron Sparks May 2016
full flower moon
in its halo
a space station
The Full Flower Moon is the full moon seen in the month of May.
Ron Sparks Apr 2016
on this cloudless night
pushing through the Pittsburgh haze,
daring to present themselves,
entwined in cosmic tango, are
Jupiter and the Moon.
the bands play across a
diluted Jovian face. while the storm
    rages on
the lunar rocks and craters,
perfectly visible imperfections,
cast petulant shadows -
reminding me that
from destruction one can
   still find beauty.
  Apr 2016 Ron Sparks
Ron Gavalik
On late spring nights
a breeze through cracked windows
feeds silent madness
It screams louder than life
Memories flow as a river
Their resentment for my existence
once brought depression
After years of absorbing rancor
the onslaught of sandpaper words
ground my soul into flakes
carried away in the wind

Hollowed into a human cask
guilt has nothing to grasp
Hatred from others means little
Perhaps amusement
A muffled chuckle
breathed into the pillow
breaks the silence
until sleep
Some thoughts.
Ron Sparks Apr 2016
steamy
beads of sweat
between her dusky *******
little rivers of pleasure
that collect in her navel
and threaten to spill with
each exhalation
distract me long enough
to avoid the
     little death
that look in her eye
seen only when
riding me
or on the back of
my motorcycle
    reignites my
passion and
all too soon
    I die
Ron Sparks Jan 2016
I'm a throwback, baby
     atavistic and masochistic
I'll pay for dinner and
  I'll hold the door
you can complain and
     vilify this good guy
but I can take it.  Your
feminism does not and can not
     impel or compel
me to forgo my manners because
    you
        can't
           tell me how I should
                expect to respect
          you
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