As obligations take up my free time
my wild spirit has been put in a cage
with perfection and accomplishment as my keys

Under a carpet of snow
when the first 'lenteklokjes' come peep from under their blanket
my keys will slowly rise up from the frozen ground as it thaws
and clear my way to the light.

I’d rather be loved than be wanted
A desire of me means something you need
Something for me to provide or a deed
To help or to guide, inspire or drive
You may want my money
You could need my time
But what if I’m busy?
Or what if I’m tired?
What if I don’t want to fulfil your desire?
Then you won’t want me
But you won’t let me be
You’ll tear me down further
Until I provide what you need

But to be loved, no requirements? Could set my soul free

I think hours about that minute, months past,
Wishing my cab hadn't come.
Wishing we hadn't places
Nor people to be.

Though few nights more than strangers,
Our dream striding cities and oceans,

Not a thing was out of place

Simply and so naturally,
As I held you for the last time,
Felt your lips on mine,

Then walked away.

The Talmud Teaches...
With respect to his son, a father is obligated to circumcise him, to redeem him [if he is a firstborn], to teach him Torah, to marry him off, and to teach him a craft...he is also

obligated to teach him to swim...(Kiddushin 29a)


lay awake when the house is silent,
doing maths furiously in the head,
sleeping can be keeping while doing my calculus,
knowing in advance a conclusion comes coined
in only two colors, black or red

the question simple, did I meet my obligations?

and your read the passage for the umpteenth time,
and the same thought interferes as always,
should the order not be reversed,
the first thing to be fulfilled,

teach them to swim

based on experience life arrives in sequential, repeating waves,
purposed to drown the weak with no pretending that waters,
salt or sweet matters, so first order is business ought be survival preparation and

teach them to swim

if they can swim, stay afloat, then they can then comprehend
the glory of distinguishing right over wrong,
get their priorities straight, that saving others,
especially those you placed on the starting line of life,
is the first principle and overplants anything else when you

teach them to swim

my eyes see the tally, why, they are red! could it be lack of sleep?

I am smiling when I am lying,
teach them to swim always first,
but not enough, one must do it well, well,
and even then, better, 
as all else will, from the well, follow, when you

teach them to swim

3:10am

~~~

I have a passion to give.  
A passion to inflict love onto others.
A passion to become the best.

However, as the time peels by, the passion churns into an obsession. An obligation.

I must help others.
I must love others.
I must be the best.

The time keeps ticking, and even though I’m barely keeping my head above these flood of emotions, I must be this ideal, “passionate” person.

I’m failing.
I can’t keep up.
What have i become? These self-made obligations are killing me.

I’ve become obsessed with giving so much of myself that i didn’t notice i was drowning.
I don’t have the energy to keep going. But i must.

How do you recover from giving so much of yourself, when you have nothing left to give? To others? To myself?

This life of passion has made me hollow and i just want to feel again. No matter the cost, because i must.

I can barely open my eyes
Can barely open my mind
Can barely fake a smile

Im not sad nor mad
Just depleted
Utterly defeated to this aching head

The tension rising in the back of my neck
Im slumped forward on my desk
Eyes open mind asleep
I silently admit defeat
As I smile
As I nod
Stifling a yawn
No, a sob

I sit up, grab a coffee cup
Feel the fake energy rush through my veins
Get through another day
My mind in overdrive
My thoughts faster than the speed limit
Unable to slow down

Work hard for the hall of fame
It's a shame, it's just out of arm's reach. You tell me: Persevere
You tell me, to hold on my dear

So I listen and then I go home
I am a mindless drone
I soar, rise and fall
Then float in between

Know what I mean?

So I wonder
At what point
Are we sacrificing too much?
Compromising too much?
And getting too little in return?

He joined because his father and his father's father had
But he had other dreams

He shot the guns and ran with the pack
But he hated the deafening noise and the crowd
He flew overseas to a base
But he'd rather be home
He killed people
But cried every night for those souls
He saved a comrade who'd lost a leg
But he hated the blood and the screaming
He shot civilians, they said it could not be prevented
But he could never sleep at night for the images and guilt wouldn't cease
He served extra months
But all he wanted was to be held by his momma at home

He went into the next takedown with his team
But came out alone
He couldn't contact his base and was told the drone came in at 1530
But it was already 1527 when he crawled out of his team's grave
He would die an honorable death, serving his country
But he never wanted to be there

He had two minutes, it was not possible
So he lay on his back and looked to the sky
He smiled for he felt a peace he hadn't felt in awhile
But began to cry when he thought of his Pops and Mommy and his two baby brothers
He let out a cry of pain, despair, but relief

For there was to be no more blood, no more death
No more children corpses or all the noises
No more running, no more exploding
No more missing limbs, burnt bodies, or wide-open eyes
No more crowds, and the smell of death lingering
No more orders, no more sleepless nights
No more guns, no more screaming, no more nightmares
No more moving or fighting
No more homesickness, no more suffering, no more pain

His life was never to be this way, never to end this way
He never liked guns, violence, or even confrontation
He learned to accept all things he hated of this never-ending war
Because he felt obligated

He loved his family, saw them for the last time, fifteen months ago
But even they became a dream amongst this hell
And in hell dreams don't come true
He just wanted to see them one last time
Hear their voices
But at his end he just wanted to escape the violence and his sadness
He died a hero
But lived a lie
He protected you and I
But in return he died, in sorrow, pain, exhaustion, and alone

He wanted to be a marine biologist ever since he was five
But he died at the age of twenty

You always rebelled
at the thought of obligation

Obliviously you would rather opt out
than be displayed
as a duty done in insignificance

A sailboat may be insignificant
. . . a tiny speck upon the ocean
But it sits high above the crests