Sometimes they spring up full-blown and disappear as quickly as they came,
phantom slivers of churning mind-scape.
I missed the mist but it found me anyway in the plain regret of mature introspection.
Astigmatisms of bygone days are twenty-twenty today.
But no mind, there's no self-incrimination.
The organic twist of living being, evolving gets made.
And we cannot twist around, and reach into the back-seat to change the past and make the road ahead engineer well.
It's best to live and let decision birth itself into this passing moment fabric-ed as life itself.

immediately all is apparent,
acceptance
is a hard thing to do,
for all my clouded vision-
cataracts, astigmatisms,
religion, relevance make
me impotent,
to forgive, I rage and want revenge.

I breathe in, meditate
and still thru conditioning
see red and blue
blow upon the memories
of smoke filled rooms where  I breathed the poisons.

I cannot do anymore.
I want to once rage and solve it
but my problems
are in the way. As I seek
it is I
I see and I
and the world were meant to be-

****** up.