I’m an imposter.

I’m an imposter and no one can know.

I may end up on the street in rags that once were my clothes.

Money isn’t everything,
But being poor blows

And I’m facing the clock.

What then felt like freedom now feels like a box;

Like a long leash
in a big yard
Where the gate’s always locked.

Am I selling my soul to the corporate world
in a vain pursuit of future financial stability?
Should I have bought my future with what little I had
and spent it growing my skills in music and writing
so that I could know they were not wasted?
Should I give up on this new work-from-home desk job
where I'm paid commission and weekly bonuses
and won't see the residual income from renewals for thirteen months?
Can't I have something stable that doesn't bore me to death,
and something exciting that doesn't turn my anxiety to an 11?
I've never had a balance--every job has been one or the other.
And yet, as I yearn for a career in music, I recall my past
where I majored in songwriting and couldn't handle college
and I sigh and realize that jumping to a music job wouldn't "fix" me.
No matter what I'm doing, I will need to have perseverance,
and patience, yes, but also motivation and drive to improve myself.
These struggles that I face now at this job are the same ones
that I've always struggled with--they're part of me still.
And I've always blamed the job for not being a good fit--
and some of them weren't, true--but that wasn't the root of it.

A job that is worth doing
will take effort and drive
and no worthy income
comes by barely getting by
and doing the bare minimum
in order to escape a scolding.
I need to change my mindset
in order to grow above this--
this swamp of complacency,
this mire of despondent weakness,
this misty swath of ambiguous feelings
that have dictated my actions
for far too long. No.
I'll sit and get to work
knowing that I am securing a future
for myself, my husband, and family
and that one day, I will have time
to create art in any way I want
but right now, I have a lesson to learn
about working hard
and rising to the challenge.
Don't let me forget.
I can't look back now.
Up I go, to new heights
where the fearful me
thought the risks were too great.
Up I go, to climb my mountain
and win this battle, and the next,
until I'm out of the doldrums
and onto the path that advances before me.

Here goes.

A powerful peaceful mind keeps the heart of an enlightened sacred soul.

Alive.

-


in case you may not know, it was the last car
at the end of a train, usually it was a red or
occasionally a yellow color which would be
clearly noticed

this car was manned in order to monitor the
train from that end for any issues, particularly
in case an axle from one of the coal cars locks
up and catches on fire

but i guess this feature was eliminated due to
improvements in the wheel assemblies, or maybe
because they had new electronic monitoring for the
crews in the locomotives

if you are under the age of thirty, this may not have
been general knowledge to you since the use of these
cars were phased out sometime in the 1980's, now a
red flashing light signifies the end of the train

you can see one of these cars parked near the city
square just north of the Tennessee/Kentucky
border in Guthrie— there is just enough rail
underneath to hold it braked in place

i think the rails once extended to the mainline
and the car was trapped there when acetylene
cutters terminated its route in either direction.

the men who rode it are now
the ghosts of everlasting
employment.

now we have thousands riding the
caboose of their careers amidst
red blaring lights that flash
from all imaginable
directions—

many of them sitting motionless
upon routes that go nowhere...



s jones
2010-2020

The screen read
F
A
I
L
That’s what I saw
And I
Bailed
But
Behind
The screen
Was a new
Beginning
For me

Someone send me fifty cigarettes.
Keep me awake far past sunset.
Get the football on immediately
And make it a fiery affair.
Drown out this mop and bucket mouth.
Find me a guitar string to silence a theatre.
Strum all the chords in unison.
Whisper powerfully into the crowd's ear
About the journey to solar eclipse bliss.
Ignore the scattered failures,
Stamps on lamp-posts,
Brash stickers of the past,
Cornered in all that success.
Distraction from the looming task ahead.
Let the teaming rain return to my brain,
Where pie survives in cement,
Jackdaws squawk and talk of walks
Across the kissing couple hills
Instead of pizza orders set for ten.
Counting stock with matching socks.
Clocks are the enemy these days.
But they may be my best friend.

She not only shattered the glass ceiling, she killed her captors with the glass.

The little shards left from the explosion expertly found their way into the hearts of every founding member of the patriarchy.

To every founding member that ever dared to doubt her.

The glass shuddered against her bare feet, cowering at her power. Her invincibility finally replacing her invisibility.

There she was in all her glory, present at all the board meeting, head CEO in a field where women where secretaries and mothers. There she was, finally on her own. If we didn't count the few dead bodies in the room.

"Brutal"...she thought. That life had forced a seemingly sweet woman to shed her "natural" loving instructs in lieu of such violence.

Little did they understand, she'd never known love in the first place.