Why do we make mistakes?
As humans, we're going to make mistakes.
It's what makes us human, and most of the time, the most effective way of learning is from a mistakes.
We don't  just make mistakes because we want.
Through mistakes we progress in life,
Through mistakes we evolve as humans.
Through mistakes we become better at things.

People did mistakes before us.
We are doing the mistakes after them.
And there are those who will do the mistakes after us.
Mistakes gives us good chances to have experiences in life,
Without mistakes we have no experience in life,
And without experience we have no lessons in life.
Experience is the best teacher
And mistakes offers good lessons.
We learn from our mistakes.

All humans make mistakes.
What determines a person's character aren't the mistakes we make.
It's how we take those mistakes and turn them into lessons rather than excuses.

Mistakes determine how strong we are,
If you accept the mistake that you just did,and learn from it,
You are a strong creature.
If you  don't accept and insist in doing the mistakes more and more you are going nowhere.

© INFINITE INK.

The cultural filters are all in place
And truth, some say, is past its sell-by date
Weak hymns embalmed by hippies, and lost in space
Where time is always 1968

A poison-green tattoo on a fleshy back
No incense, but the Purell’s pretty strong
A ten-year-old gobbles his comfort snack
During Communion and a three-chord song

Our bishops quack and honk in flocks and herds -
We need a starets
                                           but all we get are words:


Intensify the Dallas Charter accountability focus accountability exclusively accountability collegial collective accountability responsibility address theme encounter dialectic collegiality variety universality unity flock dealing topic difficult reasons unexplored differences crisis difficult for bishops enable abusers gravely irreparably failures governance responsibility question engage conversation point brother problematic behavior cultivate culture correctio fraterna enables offending other recognize criticism opportunity to tasks related willingness personally mistakes to each other feeling maintain fraternal relationship cases we damaging weakness anecdotal parenthesis to his speech encounters course ministry recollection forgive counseling for healing discussing matter rationally headway realized psyche of the person measure semblance justice inability forgive his  apparently perplexing consternating remarked noting changed personality of person realize humility mistakes learn mistakes better question unanswered unaddressed mistakes allowed consequences mishandling cases gathering conferences participants and journalists effective concrete measures combat scourge scandal technical theological sense term list reflection points adjunct secretary special portfolio combatting meeting chief architects roadmap for our discussion very, very concrete understatement seriously utter understatement things discussed follow-up meeting continued model of reform the so-called intensify the Dallas Charter metropolitan model metropolitan investigating disciplining wayward ecclesiastical provinces briefing responded you have to read the footnote disgrace investigations systemic coverup dismissed briefing expressed hope report position power prominence leadership structure report findings influence broader jurisdictions Accountability focus accountability exclusively accountability collegial collective accountability responsibility address theme encounter dialectic collegiality variety universality unity flock dealing topic difficult reasons unexplored differences crisis difficult for bishops enable abusers gravely irreparably failures governance responsibility question engage conversation point brother problematic behavior cultivate culture correctio fraterna enables offending other recognize criticism opportunity to tasks related willingness personally mistakes to each other feeling maintain fraternal relationship cases we damaging weakness anecdotal parenthesis to his speech encounters course ministry recollection forgive counseling for healing discussing matter rationally headway realized psyche of the person measure semblance justice inability forgive his  apparently perplexing consternating remarked noting changed personality of person realize humility mistakes learn mistakes better question unanswered unaddressed mistakes allowed consequences mishandling cases gathering conferences participants and journalists effective concrete measures combat scourge scandal technical theological sense term list reflection points adjunct secretary special portfolio combatting meeting chief architects roadmap for our discussion very, very concrete understatement seriously utter understatement things discussed follow-up meeting continued model of reform the so-called Metropolitan model metropolitan investigating disciplining wayward ecclesiastical provinces briefing responded you have to read the footnote disgrace investigations systemic coverup dismissed briefing expressed hope report position power prominence leadership structure report findings influence broader jurisdictions accountable faithful promises episodes  accountability supportive talking collegiality obligation misbehavior failures circumstances reputation representative discreet inquiries interview expression concern geographically confronted reported matter subject investigating disciplining malfeasance proposal wrongdoing explained carefully considered matter alternatives remarks paragraph  rehearsed alternatives footnote 6 of text speeches delivered sessions briefing spoke involvement laity lay involvement transparency transparent offending other recognize criticism opportunity to tasks related willingness personally mistakes to each other feeling maintain fraternal relationship cases we damaging weakness anecdotal parenthesis to his speech encounters course ministry recollection forgive counseling for healing discussing matter rationally headway realized psyche of the person measure semblance justice inability forgive his  apparently perplexing consternating remarked noting changed personality of person realize humility mistakes learn mistakes better question unanswered unaddressed mistakes allowed consequences mishandling cases gathering conferences participants and journalists effective concrete measures combat scourge scandal technical theological sense term list reflection points adjunct secretary special portfolio combatting meeting chief architects roadmap for our discussion very, very concrete understatement seriously utter understatement things discussed follow-up meeting continued model of reform the so-called Metropolitan model metropolitan investigating disciplining wayward ecclesiastical provinces briefing responded you have to read the footnote disgrace investigations systemic coverup dismissed briefing expressed hope report position power prominence leadership structure report findings influence broader jurisdictions accountable faithful promises episodes  accountability supportive talking collegiality obligation misbehavior failures circumstances reputation representative discreet inquiries interview expression concern geographically confronted reported matter subject investigating disciplining malfeasance proposal wrongdoing explained carefully considered matter alternatives remarks paragraph  rehearsed alternatives footnote 6 of text speeches delivered sessions briefing spoke involvement laity lay involvement transparency transparent intensify the Dallas Charter…

Mistakes can cause great troubles
Mistakes can lead to your downfall
Mistakes can take away the most dearest things to your heart
Mistakes can make you depressed
Mistakes can make you unlucky to others
Mistakes can cause pain to your loved ones

But mistakes are done inadvertently
So, can't mistakes be corrected?
Can't mistakes be forgiven?
Can't mistakes be forgotten?

I believe that life always gives a second chance to
those who ask for it earnestly.
I asked life for a second chance so that my mistakes can be corrected, forgiven and forgotten.

By all means
Let me be.

Can I have one day… one night
Without bashing?
On my mistakes… my mistakes
Oh god, my mistakes.
It’s difficult being happy
With constant argument
Over the past.

I know what happened,
I don’t need a daily reminder.
Can we be happy again?
Can we be at peace again?

My mistakes… my mistakes
Oh god, my mistakes.
The cause of frustration,
Shed tears, and anger.

My mistakes… my mistakes
Oh god, my mistakes.
Let’s move on from my mistakes
It’s difficult to be happy
With constant argument
Over the past.
Can we be happy again?
Can we be at peace again?


**December 10, 2011

Mistakes-Theres no such thing.
Mistakes don't truthfully exists.
Its just a way of telling someone to them they messed up.
Mistakes don't happen.
Things happen cause they are supposed to.
They aren't mistakes cause it "wast supposed to happen".
If it happened then for some reason you we're meant to do so.
Mistakes are nothing.
Mistakes are a way for people to tell others when they've "done wrong".
By all the "mistakes" a person has done.
They aren't mistakes if the world makes you do them.
Yes we all have minds to tell us whats right and whats wrong but when things are all done is it a mistake or bound to happen.
-Mickie Rouxe-

all your mistakes are now mine, all
your mistakes are now mine, all your
mistakes are now mine, all your mistakes
are now mine, all your mistakes are
now mine, all your mistakes are now
mine, all your mistakes are now mine

all
your mistakes
are now

**mine.

Oops, D'oh, Oh My God!!!!
I see you shake your head, yell at yourself and kick the ***.
You beat your brains out
And wonder how
You made that mistake.
Mistakes that cost you hopes and dreams
Mistakes that fell heavily on your parade
Look here-Relax, you're with us.
We're all prone to epic blunders from time to time.
We all have stories long filled with stupid mistakes.
Better we make mistakes than fake perfection
A wise man learns from his blunders,
An even wiser man learns from others'.
They help us grow
Whether good or bad, we've learned.
Along the road of progress, we go.
Everyday, there are new mistakes to make.
Don't be afraid to take risks,
Take that leap
Make mistakes
Mistakes-they are guaranteed; we'll make another one tomorrow.
Mistakes-we  make them and sometimes, they make us.

The old green door creaked when it opened. The same way it always did. The same old pitiful, sad sound it had made for years.
Sad because, like the rest of Jimmy's Bar it wouldn't be broken the way it was if someone would only take the time to fix it, in this case to grease the hinges, and then maybe the joint wouldn't be such a dive.
But that was the way it was, and the old green door pretty much summed up the whole place before you had even stepped in.

It was an everyday scene, this dreary November afternoon like any other: the glasses from the night(or nights) before were still stacked up on the far end of the bar, waiting to be washed, or just used again. The regulars, as they were known really didn't care if they were drinking out of a ***** glass or having a shot or a short out of a pint glass or beer or a stout or a bitter or an ale or a cider or even a water or milk(to wash down or soak up the days drinking) out of the same old ***** glass they had been drinking out of all week long.
Anyway, when the door creaked this time, it was old Tom Ashley that made it creak.
He shuffled in like the broken down bindle-stiff he was. Yawning like a lion and rubbing his unwashed hands on his four day beard. His grey hair as bed-headed and dishevelled as ever.  He was wearing the same crinkled-up blazer he always wore, tailor made some time in his youth but now in his advancing years was ill-fitting and torn at the shoulder, but still he wore a white flower in the lapel, and it didn't much matter that he had picked it from the side of the road, it helped to mask the smell of his unwashed body and whatever filth he had been stewing in his little down town room above the second hand book store. It wasn't much, but it suited him fine: the rent was cheap, and Chuck, the owner would let him borrow books two at a time, so long as he returned them in week, and he always did. He loved to read, and rumour had it, that a long time ago when he was in his twenties he had written a novel which had sold innumerable copies and made him a very wealthy man. The twist in the tale, went that he had written said novel under a pen name and no soul knew what it was, and when questioned he would neither confirm nor deny ever writing a book at all. It was some great secret, but after time people had ceased asking questions and stopped caring all together on the subject. All that anybody knew for sure was; he did not work and always had money to drink. It was his only great mystery.  T.S Eliot and Thomas Hardy were among his favourite writers. He had a great stack of unread books he had been saving in shoe box on his window sill. He called these his 'raining season'.

But for now, the arrangement with Chuck would suit him just fine.
He dragged his drunkards feet across the floor and over to the bar. All dark wood with four green velour upholstered bar stools, that of course, had seen better days too.
He put his hands flat on the bar, leaned back on his heels and ordered
a double Talisker in his most polite manner. He was a drunk, indeed but 'manners cost nothing'' he had said in the past. Grum, the bartender(his name was Graham, but in the long years of him working in the bar and
all the drunks slurring his name it gradually became Grum)smiled false heartedly, turned his back and whilst pouring old Toms whiskey into a brandy glass looked over his shoulder and said, ''so Mr. Ashley, how's
life treatin' ya'?'' Tom was looking at the floor or the window or the at the back of his eyelids and paid no attention to the barkeep. He was always
a little despondent before his first drink of the day. When Grum placed the drink on the bar he asked the same question again, and Tom, fumbling with his glass, simply murmured a monosyllabic reply that couldn't be understood with his mouth full of that first glug of sweet,
sweet whiskey he had been aching for. Then he looked up at tom with
big his shiney/glazed eyes, ''hey grum,
now that it is a fine whiskey, Robert Lewis Stevenson
used to drink this you know?'' Grum did know, Tom had told him this nearly every day for as long as he had been coming in the place, but
he nodded towards Tom and smiled acceptingly all the same. ''The king of drinks, as I conceive it, Talisker, he said'' Grum mouthed the words along with him,  caustically and half smiled at him again. Tom drained his glass and ordered another one of the same.

A few more drinks, a few hours and a few more drinks again
passed, Tom put them all on his tab like he always did. Grum,
nor the owner of the bar minded, he always paid his tab before
he stumbled home good and drunk and he didn’t cause too
much trouble apart from the odd argument with other customers
or staff but he never used his fists and he always knew when
he was beat In which case he would become very apologetic
and more often than not veer out of the bar back stepping
like a scared dog with his tail between his tattered trousers.
Drinking can make a cowardly man brave but not a smart
man dumb and Tom was indeed a smart man. Regardless
of what others might say. He was very articulate, well read
with a good head (jauntily perched) on his (crooked) shoulders.
By now it was getting late, Tom didn't know what time it was,
or couldn't figure out what time it was by simply looking at
the clock, the bar had one of those backwards clocks, I
don't know if you have ever seen one, the numbers run
anti-clockwise, which may not seem like much of task to
decipher I know, but believe me, if you are as drunk as tom
was by this point you really can not make head nor tails of
them. He knew it was getting late though as it was dark
outside and the  lamp posts were glowing their orange glow
through the window and the crack in the door. It was around
ten o’clock now and Tom had moved on to wine, he would
order a glass of Shiraz and say ''hey Grum, you know Hafez
used to drink this stuff, used to let it sit for forty days to achieve
a greater ''clarity of wine'' he called it, forty days!'' ''Mr Ashley''
said Grum looking up from wiping down the grimy bar and
now growing quite tired of the old man’s presence and what seemed
to be constant theories and facts of the various drinks he
was devouring, ''what are you rabbiting on about now, old
man?'' ''Hafez'' said old Tom ''he was a Persian poet from the
1300's as I recall... really quite good'', ''Well, Tom that is
truly fascinating, I must be sure to look in to him next time
I'm looking for fourteenth century poetry!'' said the barkeep,
mockingly. ''Good, good, be sure that you do'' Tom said,
taking a long ****-eyed slurp of his drink and not noticing
the sarcasm from the worn out bartender. He didn't mean
to poke fun at Tom he was anxious to get home to his wife
who he missed and longed to join, all alone in their warm
marital bed in the room upstairs. But Tom did not understand
this concept, he had never been married but had left a long
line of women behind him, loved and left in the tracks of his
vagabond youth, he had once been a good looking man a
''handsome devil'' confident and charming in all his wit and
literary references to poets of old he had memorised passages from ,Thoreau,Tennyson ,Byron, Frost etc. And more times
than not passed these passages of love and beauty off as
his own for the simple purpose of getting various now wooed
and wanting women up to his room. But now after  many
years of late nights, cigarettes and empty bottles cast aside
had taken their toll on him he spent his nights alone in his
cold single bed drunk and lonely with his only company being
once in a while a sad eyed dead eyed lady of the night, but
only very rarely would he give in to this temptation and it
always left him feeling hollow and more sober than he had
cared to be in many long years.
The bell rang last orders.
He ordered another drink, a Gin this time and as he took
the first sip, pleasingly, Grum stared at him with great open
eyes and his hand resting on his chin to animate how he
was waiting for the old man to state some worthless fact
about his new drink but the old man just sat there swaying
gently looking very glazed and just when the barkeep was
just about to blurt out his astonishment that Tom had noting
to say, old Tom Ashley, old drunk Tom took a deep breath
with his mouth wide, leaned back on his stool and said...
''hey, you know who used to drink gin? F. Scott Fitzgerald''
''really?'' said the barkeep snidely ''Oh yes'' said Tom
''The funny thing is Hemingway and all those old gents
used to tease Fitzgerald about his low tolerance, a real
light weight! He paused and took a sip ''but err, yes
he did like the odd glass of gin'' he said, mumbling
into the bottom of his glass.
Now, reaching the end of the night, the bartender
yawning, rubbing his eyes and the old man with
close to sixty pounds on his tab, sprawled across the
bar, spinning the last drop of his drink on the glasses
edge and seeming quite mesmerised by it and all its
holy splendour, he stopped and sat up right like a shot,
and looking quite sober now he shouted ''Grum,
Graham, hey, come here!'' the sleepy bartender was
sitting on a chair with his feet up on the bar, half asleep,
''Hey Graham, come here'' ''eh-ugh, what? What do you
want?'' said the barkeep sounding bemused and
befuddled
in his waking state, ''just come over here will you,
please''
the barkeep rolled off his chair sluggishly and slid
his feet across the floor towards the old man ''what is
it?'' he said scratching his head with his eyes still half
closed. The old man drowned what was left of his
drink and said ''I think I've had an epiphany, well err
well, more of a theory really w-well..'' he was stuttering
. ''oh yeah? And what would that be, Mr Ashley?'' said
the bartender, folding his arms in anticipation. ''pour
me another whiskey and I'll tell you''
''one mor... you must be kidding me, get the hell
out of here you old drunk we're closed!'' the old man
put his hands together as if in prayer and said in his
most sincere voice, '' oh please, Grum, just one more
for the road, I'll tell you my theory and then I'll be on
my way, OK?'' ''FINE, fine'' said Grum ''ONE more and
then you're GONE'' he walked over to the other side
of the bar poured a whiskey and another for himself.
''OK, here’s your drink old man, and I don't wanna
hear another of your ******* facts about writers
or poets or whoever OK?'' Tom snatched the drink of
the bar, ''OK, OK, I promise!'' he said. Tom took a slow
slurp at his drink and relaxed back in his seat and
sat quite, looking calm again.
The bartender sat staring at him, expecting the old
man to say something but he didn’t, he just sat there
on his stool, sipping his whiskey, Grum leaned forward
on the bar and with his nose nearly touching the old
mans, said ''SO? Out with it, what was this ****
theory I just HAD to hear?'' ''AH'' said the old man,
waving his index finger in the air, he looked down
into his breast pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes,
calmly took two out, handed one to the barkeep,
struck a match from his ***** finger nail, lit his own
the proceeded to light the barkeeps too.
Taking a long draw and now speaking with the blue
smoke pouring out his mouth said '' let me ask you a question''
... he paused, …  ''would agree that everybody
makes mistakes?'' the barkeep looked puzzled as to
where this was going but nodded and grunted a
''uh-hum'' ''well'' said the old man would you also
agree that everybody also learns... and continues
learning from their mistakes?'' again looking puzzled
but this time more  intrigued grunted the same ''uh-hum'' noise,
though this time a little more drawn out and
higher pitched and said ''where exactly are you going
with this?'' curiously.
''well..'' let me explain fully said Tom. He took another
pull on his cigarette and a sip on his drink, ''right,
my theory is: everybody keeps making mistakes, as
you agreed, this meaning that the whole world keeps
making mistakes too, and so the world keeps learning
from is mistakes, as you also agreed, with me so far?''
the barkeep nodded ''right'' Tom continued ''the world
keeps makiing and learning from its mistakes, my
theory is that one day, the world will have made so
many mistakes and learned from them all, so many
that there are no more mistakes to make, right? And
thus, with no mistakes left to learn from the word will
be all knowing and thus... PERFECT! Am I right? The
barkeep, now looking quite in awe and staring at his
cigarette smoke in the orange street light coming t
hrough the window, raised his glass and said quite
excitedly ''and when the world is then a perfect place
Jesus will return! Right?'' ''well Graham...'' said the old
man doubtingly ''I am in no way a religious man, but I
guess if that’s your thing then yes I guess you could be
right, yes''
He then drowned the rest of his whiskey in one giant
gulp, stubbed out his cigarette in the empty glass
and said ''now, I really must get going ,it really is getting quite
late'' and begun to walk towards the door. The
bartender hurried around the bar and grabbed Tom
by the arm,
'' you cant just leave now! We need to discuss this!
Please stay, we'll have another drink, on the house!''
''Now, now,Graham'' said the old man, ''we can discuss
this another night, I really must get to bed now'' he
walked over to the door, and just as his hand touched
the handle the barkeep stopped him again and said
quite hurriedly,'' but I need answers, how will I know
everything is going to be alight? You know PERFECT,
just like you said!'' the old man opened the door
slightly, turned around coolly and said ''now, don’t
worry yourself, I’m sure everything will turn out fine
and we’ll talk about it more tomorrow, OK?'' the
barkeep nodded acceptingly and held the door open
for the
old man, ''sure sure, OK'' he said ''tomorrow it is,
Mr Ashley''
Just as Tom was walking out the door he stopped
looked at the   barkeep with large grin on his face
and said very fast, as fast as he could ''you-know-an-interesting
-fact-about-whiskey-it-was -Dylan-Thomas'
-favourite-drink-in-fact-his-last-words-were -"I've-had-18
-straight-whiskeys......I-think-that's-the-record."­!! HAHA '' he
laughed almost uncontrollably. Graham the barkeep looked
at him with a smile of new found admiration and began to
close the door on him.
Just as the door was nearly shut, the old man stopped
once
more, pulled out a roll of money, looked in to the
bartenders
eyes and put the money into his shirt pocket, then putting
his left hand on the bartenders shoulder said ''oh and
Grum, one of those great ol' women I let get away, once told ,me:
''if you are looking at the moon then,everything is alight'' and slapped
him lightly on the cheek.
. Then finally, pointing at the barkeeps shirt pocket said ''
for the bar tab'' then went spinning out the door way with
the grace of a ballroom dancer(rather than the old drunk
he had the reputation for being) and standing in the
orange glow of the street and seeing the look of sheer
wonderment on the bartenders face still standing in the
old green door way and shouted ''LOOK UP, THE MOON,
THE MOON!'' The barkeep, shaking his head and laughing,
peered his head out of the door and took a glance at the
moon and grinned widely then closed the old green door
for the night. It made the same old loud creak when he shut it.

                                       FIN

Mistakes have names we hope to never speak:
Anger, lust, jealousy, selfishness, rage.
Mistakes are words we bestow on the weak,
Or the young, as we get better with age.

Mistakes are pseudonyms for impatience:
Insecurity, coldness, raised voices.
Mistakes describe us when we don’t make sense,
Or too immature, to grasp our choices.

Mistakes are identities we mistrust:
Ego, narcissism, self-loathing, shame.
Mistakes we avoid and avoid them we must,
Or we thought, we must forgive all the same.

Mistakes may come from dissatisfaction,
Or frequently just, overreaction.

Mistakes lead to failure, then success.

Failure isn't fatal.
Success isn't final.
Road to success always in construction.
I'm fruitful by laying a firm base.
A base from bricks mistakes threw at me.

I live going forward.
I only understand life backwards.
Looking back, I smile at past mistakes.
I learned from failure not success.

I live without regrets.
Behind success, failure is a secret.
I never quit when I failed.
I failed until I succeed.

I learned a lot from mistakes.
Lessons come disguised as mistakes.
The only mistake is not learning from mistakes.

I've made a couple of "mistakes".

This past summer taught me that mistakes are nothing but lessons.

Think of it this way.
You can learn a lesson about the French Revolution at school and that'll just be an easy lesson, hard to listen to but fairly easy not so rememberable, but nonetheless a lesson.

When you give your all to someone carelessly forgetting to put yourself first learning that the problem was you because somehow you forgot to love yourself enough and remember your worth and to be a ride or die for not only him but God.....

now don't tell me that isn't a lesson.

Now any relationship you get into you remember not to wear your heart on your sleeve, you remembered not to get to carried away too fast.

You remember this because you made a mistake your paying for every day because it has now become a lesson you just can not forget.

But the cost isn't a bad thing.

Your wiser, you now remember to never forget your worth or to question yourself. You no longer forget that you are beautiful. Now again I ask are mistakes really mistakes?

Are you a victim of your time , must you live
       With your mistakes, and suffer ?
Really it’s time we wake up n smell the coffee
Every problem has solution,so let’s start today

You need not to put it off or procrastinate .
Oh I know it’s easy said , so best get o’t a bed
Unless you ever wish to live with a mistake

And identify the faults, without delay.

Verify with me , in the best way to identify
In a poetic form an A to Z of your mistakes.
Can I start with A the abandonment
The abandonment of self-surrendering
I next target B for Bacchanalia nights
Melancholic days getting over a hangover

On to The Cacodemon of an evil spirit
Found in our home , a most malignant person

Yes and Depreciation of the value of our
        assets usually by the Bankers we trusted.
Oh to have the benefits of fiscal hindsight
Understanding E as extenuating circumstance
Reason then becomes the excuse for failure.

Together with F the F word so commonly used
In emphasis to any topic or discussions
Migrating to G , not mistaking God or life alone
Ethereal spirits surround us n help us choose

Methodically H the mistake that you made
Unwittingly you ignore Holy Spirit of God
Sympathetically I now carry the spirit with me
The change to my life is now monumental.

Yes up to J for the justice that you mistake
On the times when you are it’s sad victim.
Understandably K for Karma of getting out of

Life , whatever you put in.You are punished too
In reaching L for Life. Well the mistake is plain
Virtually you spend a lifetime getting to grips
Engage with M for the mistakes you made

With each one made , don’t cry , learn from it.
In a section for N then note daily five blessings
That you have , it is a mistake not to care.
Having an Opinion is fine but it’s a big mistake

Yes to be opinionated or dogmatic with others
O is followed by P for Procrastination of time
Uselessness , putting off what’s needed today
Reaching the Q the queue that you got into

Mistakenly got into as more haste less speed
Indicative of R for recapitulation of all mistakes
Some simple and some massive and correct
To sequester an S for sententiousness
And pompous moralising must be avoided
Knowing the T of toutological mistakes
Even though it looks good in a poetry scan
So to the U. For understanding when a mistake

And a small mistake can have repercussions
Now to  Virtually every mistake has a price
Do you admit to it and face the consequences

Simplicity of the W to weather to own up
Unless you admit it and show grace n humility
Fortunately the Xanadu is not achieved now
For all the mistakes made have a huge price.
Eventually the Y n Z. Are the yardstick to
Reluctantly measure your path on to Zion.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Written by Philip.
November 28th 2018.

Love Your Father & Forgive His Mistakes [1]

Had to become a man,
before I learned to become a Good Son,
for your father is your father so show him some love,
& like it or not in this live you usually only get one,

I mean without your father you wouldn't even be here,
I mean without your father you wouldn't even be you,
so what part of “Love your father.” don't you understand,
& how can I get that part through to you?

See you are the fruit of His labors,
you are His seed that was sown,
& the fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree,
so learn from His mistakes & you won’t have to learn from your own,

see your Father is not perfect,
none of us ever were are or will be,
but He is indeed your Father,
so please treat him with some dignity,
please show Him some respect,
& unconditional love,
& the next time you see him,
please from me give him a hug,
because your father is your father,
& you usually only get one,
& I know he made some mistakes but he’s only human,
& the best thing you can do is love Him & forgive them,

for forgiveness heals,
& holding a grudge is carcinogenic,
so liberate yourself through forgiveness of self,
& forgiveness of all others as well for forgiveness is collective repentance,

no need to hold all that resentment in,
we’re all only imperfect humans but there's beauty in our imperfections,
& sure the Road to Hell is paved with good intentions,
but only through cardinal sin do we find true redemption,

& it’s the smudges in the paint,
that creates the masterpiece,
it’s the past & all it’s pain,
that makes us to evolve & finally attain peace,

our art is our art,
let’s not let our mistakes make us,
most of all of this is uncertain anyways & full of mistakes,
but make no mistake you & I are destined for greatness,

& always remember that the masterpiece has a life of it’s own,
it's not owned by anyone not even the one who paints it,
just like a father does not own his son,
even if He's the one that made him,

& you are a masterpiece so give a thanks & an amen,

& then,
be here as we are as human beings,
collectively having a human experience,
moving seeing hearing breathing,

see if you're always dwelling on the past,
or looking ahead to the future,
you won't find me either then or there,
because I'm right here now for sure,

& when you finally find a way to find your self presently,
it will be as amazing as awaking in a dream,

I mean it’s 2018,
what the heck do you mean,
it seems we’ve become the whole scene,
or so it would seem since wherever we're seen becomes the whole scene,

so paint me a picture of what your Soul sees,
express it in any form you choose to work with,
sure the Saints are great but Love is our Savior solely,
& our only true Father is the one that gave us Life’s gift,

use His gift wisely,
use it through music dance laughter & words,
remember random acts of kindness are to be seen,
& unconditional beauty is to be heard,

with your ears you can see,
with your eyes you can hear everything,

everywhere,

where are we let’s take some time to be,
let’s check in with each other let’s forgive past regrets,

forgive & live live & let live,
be in peace & please let us be,
see we are poets we are painters that don't wish to be disturbed,
writing words that paint pictures of what all our Souls see,

see you have to become a man,
before you can learn to become a Good Son,
for your father is your father so show him some love,
& like it or not in this live you usually only get one,

& yes I know He is scarred,
& yes I know you see your future mistakes in his past,
& yes I know sometimes when you see him,
you just wish he’d hurry up & pass,
but when he’s gone you will miss him,
this much I can promise you,
because when he’s gone you’ll have a hole in your heart,
because in some ways your Father is you,
& you can always tell someone’s character,
by the way they treat their parents,
so be as thankful to them as you are to Life itself & respect them,
because without them you wouldn’t have been born,

so please show Him some respect,
& give him unconditional love,
& the next time you see him,
please from me give him a hug...

∆ Aaron LaLux ∆

from The Holy Trilogy Vol. 2: Mandalas
available worldwide here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1721134158

I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're Doing Something.

So that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody's ever made before. Don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.

Whatever it is you're scared of doing, Do it.

Make your mistakes, next year and forever.

I let some guy **** me today.



I did not know him,
                                nor did I want to.


I simply slid into his bed
       and made myself hard and cold

I wanted, I think,
              to ******* out of my mind

But I only succeeded
                      in splitting myself into
   two parts.

The empty shell of me,

                   and my soul. My feelings,
       my emotions, my thoughts.
                  My strength and goodness

shrunk down to a wet pile in
the pit of my stomach

And it is only now
                          that I will
admit
                    that I am still in love with you.

Maybe that's my problem.
I don't know anymore.

I keep trying to identify what's wrong

                so I can just fix it.

Last week I had low self-esteem.
The week before that I was afraid of being alone
The week before that, I just
                loved you and I was
                scared that you'd leave.

and now you've left
                                     but you were the only
person that knew how to fix me

                                  when I'm broken

If we learn from our mistakes, then making no mistakes is our greatest mistake.

nobody is perfect we all make mistakes
life has ups and downs with lots of gives and takes
no matter what who we are no matter what we do
mistakes they will be made and be made by you

its the same for all mistakes will come along
mistakes are always there and there always wrong
nobody is perfect and will never be
mistakes will come along that sometimes we dont see

A few mistakes can be recalled and remembered
Many were made prior
Amongst the many, a few can still be identified in the present.
A couple of them definitely occupy a space in the present amongst the many, which were made prior.

The more we go into the details of something,
something specific, something in particular,
then much more intense becomes the need of hour to be vigilant and alert.

Over a period of time things become complicated
Simple things take lot of time to get done, since handling any task now seems to be time consuming.
Justifications and explanations will be of no use
Questions will be raised by few for which answers will be asked by each and everyone.

Often, definitely much more than often, complications do come across at a given point of time in one's life.
Even complications have their own way to enter into someone's life,
even they have got their own starting point
Always it's better to keep things simple, at least as simple as possible
Better to get complications sorted out, if not resolved.
Also otherwise, better to get complications resolved as and when they occur.
If not, then it will only be a matter of time for the present to be ruined.

Come what may in the middle of way, a temptation sort of thing
Always it's better you know your way.

Come what may come along the way
At the spur of moment it comes to mind, let's take this short cut
It's always better you know your way.

A lot of things are learned, when experience is gained, since old mistakes are avoided and new mistakes corrected.
From the experiences of past and from the different experiences in life, definitely one thing is for sure a lot of things are learned over a period of time.
Not all are worth remembering,
definitely agreed upon the fact that only a few amongst them are worth remembering.

Make a mistake, but see to it never repeat the same old mistake
Definitely make some new mistake
A lot can be learnt from old mistakes, but never by repeating them.

Making new mistake gives an altogether different preference,
since as and when, whenever a new mistake is made,
something, which is bound to happen,
each and everything in the present changes,
once a new mistake happens.

Things now seem to be different, since a new mistake has happened
The need of the hour now is to explore more
Search and find out what is lacking in self
Once done and over with the same,
then keep in mind ways of avoiding this new mistake.

Always remember
Make a new mistake,
but keep in mind and see to it never repeat the same old mistakes in life.

Ever ******* up?
Ever made a mistake?
Hey listen,
We all play that game.


Something slipped out,
Did the wrong thing.
That's okay,
We all play the game.


The game of being human,
Of living life in haste
The game of being impulsive,
And making mistakes every day.


So don't get down,
By mistakes upon you.
'Cause I know,
You’ve done it too.


So please forgive me
If I do wrong to you.
For when it’s my turn.
For the favor to be returned
It’ll be okay
It’ll work out someday.

I wonder about,
the human beings;
Why they don't
think twice, about someone's mistake?

Haven't they any time
to think twice?
or Are they
very evil?

Mistakes aren't done
Wittingly;
Mistakes are
just MISTAKES!

If human beings begin to think twice
about mistakes, one day,
The whole world
will be a fiesta.

With all the mistakes that I've made,
This is the one I'm sorry for most,
It's carried with me, the pain I feel,
Haunting me like a ghost.
Every time I hear your voice, you can still say,
That you love me, and you think of me every single day.
But the pain, it won't die down,
The band aids are not enough,
I'm just about sick of myself,
Just about given up.
Because every time I hear your voice,
I still want to say,
That I love you too and I think of you every single day.
But then I remember our tragic end,
And how I asked you to be my friend,
And how then I watched you cry,
And even almost saw you die...
But now I want to hold you close,
Kiss your lips and love you most...
But the things I did,
The things we said,
The nights I cried beside my bed,
Would never compare to the pain I caused,
The many lives that I have crossed.
It's much too late to turn back now,
Even if I could, I wouldn't know how.
I'm not so sure, on what to do,
But I'll never give up - give up on you.

But with all the mistakes that I've made,
This is the one that I regret,
This is the one I'll NEVER forget.
The simple truth of first TRUE love,
Is that well never forget each other's hug,
Each other's kiss, each other's touch,
The way we loved each other so much...
And still do.
The way I dream of still spending
The rest of my life with you.
The nights I still cry,
The days were I lie,
to the one I gave you up for.
But with everything I've done,
To you, my love,
I'm so so sorry.

Because with all of the mistakes that I've made,
This is the one I'm sorry for most:

Saying goodbye.

You can't recycle wasted time
You can't fix mistakes
You can only make amends
Mistakes come with time
Mistakes come with love
You write your future
Mistakes rewrite your future
You can make amends over time
Mistakes will last
Time will not
Time is limited
But there are infinite possibilities on how you use it.

Another mistake
Another mishap
Adds up to the wrongdoings of humans
The number keeps increasing

Humanity tried hard to be perfect
Unable to accept that we are but flawed creatures

Truth be told
Accidents and mistakes help us progress
For the greatest inventions were creations of accidents
And mistakes the secret of knowledge

Could it be
I've never seen
Beauty in me
Took time to reflect
On all that I am
I haven't shared everything I can
On this soul-searching road
The winds and turns
Each corner holds secrets
Each road taken holds challenges untold
Which road you choose is how life unfolds
Some are rougher, Sometimes it's smooth sailing
All the time I've invested in this world
I've come to realise
Each moment is just a piece strung together
In this story called life
I have no wisdom in my words
All I know is I've survived
Yeah, still alive.

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer

A man made up of scars
Each marks a tale
Each a reminder of lessons learned
I've been through the ringer
Still standing, And I'll still fight
Until my last breath drains all my might
No matter what the world throws my way
I'll always say...          
"Challenge accepted."
Never gave up
I still dream
I still fight my way
Through each day
No matter the odds stacked against me
I'm a raise my head accept the challenges met

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer

Nothing is going to hold me down
I'm going to dance like a warrior
All these bad habits couldn't be sorrier
All these battles I've won
Some left me scarred
But through this my skin became hard
Got a thick skin, Never cut through it
Got a good heart, shines through in my art
Belief only takes you so far
Have faith, it'll take you beyond the stars
They say wisdom can't be found in bars
In unlikely places, you can find yourself
And accept it is all you are
All that you've become
Water washes over me
Setting me free
All this dirt cleansed from me
You haven't even seen the best from me

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer.

Don't make me a role model
That I can never fulfil
All I wanna be is an Inspiration
Show people if they stick to it
They can make it
They won't fail if they fight tooth and nail
Revealing truths through poetic paragraphs
Silver linings rising, capture lightning in a bottle
Hard to contain, just striking in ways they don't expect
In life, you'll realise your blessed
If you take a deep look around
And all that surrounds us
Just shows that you can achieve
Be anything you want to be
And all I choose is to just be me
Open up your heart to see.

Some would say I feel too much
Some would say, I'm too ******* myself
Mistakes I owned them
Haters I outgrow them
There's a whole lot in me
Only a few people see
A light that shines slightly through the cracks
I'm not all bad
And all this strength gathered
Has taken me to heights
Others couldn't imagine
Like a lighter, a little spark
Can ignite a torch
Revealing truths in dark corners
It's all these things
That makes me a lyrical philosopher
Through these lines I conquer

©2018 Written By Benji James

if time could be reversed, like a Tardis can do
if time could be reversed, like a Tardis can do
going back and fixing the mistakes, a clean bill no stains
going back and fixing the mistakes, a clean bill no stains
going back and fixing the mistakes, like a Tardis can do
a clean bill no stains, if time could be reversed

yet the errors repeat, an offender ne'er learns
yet the errors repeat, an offender ne'er learns
atop her head a question mark, why such a silly goat
atop her head a question mark, why such a silly goat
an offender ne'er learns, atop her head a question mark
yet the errors repeat, why such a silly goat

hindsight is a good tool, one can see the results
hindsight is a good tool, one can see the results
past misdemeanors on view, realizing one's faux pars
past misdemeanors on view, realizing one's faux pars
realizing one's faux pars, hindsight is a good tool
one can see the results, past misdemeanors on view

atop her head a question mark, an offender ne'er learns
going back and fixing the mistakes, one can see the results
if time could be reversed, hindsight is a good tool
why such a silly goat, yet the errors repeat
realizing one's faux pars, like a Tardis can do
past misdemeanors on view, a clean bill no stains,

I like you, you feel the same
Right?
Ok. So we date.
You move on and expect
Me to learn from my mistakes.

I’m not willing to satisfy
You treat me roughly
Tell me I’m too young.
I cry, move on and
Learn from my mistakes.

Still not experienced
I’m not detached enough
A disappointed utter
You move on and expect
Me to learn from my mistakes.

My friends ex,
A permanent heart throb.
Old feelings surface
I cry, move on and
Learn from my mistakes.

You meet my **** housemate
A tall, lean *****
You wake in her bed
You move on and expect
Me to learn from my mistakes.

A long standing flame
I never demand full attention
You fall for a pretty doctor
I cry, move on and
Learn from my mistakes.

How many more times
How many faults to correct
Again Right?

I like you, you feel the same
Right?
Ok. So we date.
You move on and expect
Me to learn from my mistakes.

Chapter one:

  The strange entanglement of the sun, twisted in kooky bedlam with The Great King Moon in winter.

Have you ever looked down at yr feet on the long walk home & wondered if you’re really moving forward any more or if all your really doing is just moving the ground? Don’t answer that, its a rhetorical question. Of course you have. We all have. You think you’re moving in the right direction, following the north star or the compass in your brain or maybe just your nose or your thumb and fore finger. You  believe that you’re gonna make it somewhere, you have to believe. What else is there. The truth is, you’re going nowhere, we are all going nowhere, we just spin on the slanted axis & never really go anywhere. We have been conditioned to believe that this is the way the world works but I’m here to tell you that it doesn’t, you gotta buck up, **** up or ******* ‘*** let me tell you, yr ‘dreams’ mean nothing to anybody ‘*** living, real living is not connected to REM. That’s all just more ******* you’re gonna have to put up with people trying to sell you. Lick the boot, get over the barrel & bite down on your watch strap. That’s all there is to it. The mind is a magnet. If you find yourself staring in to the abyss: Jump right in. Swan dive. Hold your breath & wait. Everything will be OK. I promise you.

I’m writing, ah writing! Writing this worthless piece of *****// manuscript of means for you. For me, for the future, for love, for lust, for hatred of all things hating, for your mother & farther, for my friends, my beautiful angelic, clinically insane friends, for time, for the soles of my shoes with hundreds of miles under their laces, for your fat greedy pockets, for the moon, for the sun to spit on, for the wind to taunt, as he does like the great cowardly, perverted invisible fiend that he is, for nothing, for not quite everything, for your aching lovers, for your broken hearts, for the worlds water, may you always be clean & run free, for the great biblical liars, for the sorrowful wonder of the great homeless & may all their wants come to be wanted, for *******, for fumbling, for the vast oaken heavy doors on bars that keep us safe from the  horrors outside, for guilt, for sugar-blue smoke, for all the kids sitting in **** stained squat houses with half a horse embedded in their face, for my schools that gave up on a bored child, for warmth & fire & woollen clothing, for Paris where I can fulfil my great dream of becoming a sullen cliché, for the gravel-mounted marching marvel, may you never lose your way, for the Parthenon, for Aubergine, for The Firefly, the swan, bleeding,for growing up, for all the music makers,all people should play all instruments to any degree(rather than just, age & shrivel), for Howl for Carl Solomon, for every down & out that ever clawed his way up the street & through the yellow door, for all the animals that gave their lives to keep me fat & red faced, for Christ sake, for the invisible man in the sky, causing all war & so much death-thank you, for the wild west, for Bert & John, for the great literary mastodon to look down his reset nose at & ask me why. Why?

The way that old dial telephones look & feel. The questions that need no answers. Feeling down, down & out, upside down & inside out,upside in & downside out on the pavement at five am. Waking up in unknown beds & crawling down drain pipes. Getting lost in a place you have lived your whole life. Being in the woods simply to be in the woods. Drinking coffee even though you hate the taste. Never telling a stranger the truth. Living under a false name. Drinking yourself to death in the dark lonely-crowded corners of ***** stained wood floor warehouse floors. Feeling solid-sterling-gold for feeling so terribly horrifically half-corpse-like the only way you can really feel is completely statuesquely angelically magnificent and the only way is down(you really have no idea how far I fell that morning) , Only going out when it rains. Only going out in the dark. Staying up all night dreaming and sleeping all day. Remembering to forget, forgetting to remember to remember to be forgetful. Understanding that you and no one else understands nothing but eat-drink-sleep-****-death. Smoking until yr tongue bleeds and yr eyes burn like that fire in the sky in the fearful month of June. Wishing you knew how to tie a noose & writing ”suicide” on yr calender on a day you have no planned engagements. Shooting to the moon & back in the bee-bop-bo-bo-batter-batter-chitter-chatter like jazz on the neon streets of the earths mother. Crawling in to a stone cold bed after walking for six days & feeling bored & lonely again in ten minutes.

That’s why, I’m glad you asked. If I’m going out, then I’m out going with some steeze in a cloud of smoke, yr wife & I’m not taking you with me.

For all these things & more is the reason I write. To write for the sake of writing. For, some people write, just to write & they are truly the the lost meaning of it all.

Automatic travel rambles to plug up the holes in yr lonesome pockets. Blues.

Chapter two:  

Creeping moss-stick under-flowering the useless but grateful Tuesday poet, Jim Gravestone Sr.

The ghost of the monorail, living only in upturned memory sits slow & smooth/low against the Sunday evening rapture. You gotta know which way is down. Down. The dew on the grass & the creamy-green residue of the night before is just too close to a real drama. Absolute dahma. Down in the cold rising damp & the stain on your shirt.

He sits , sits like you, like me & like old Tom Mooney the prison king. If you ever saw such a sad sight as he, I do believe you would roll out your tongue on the pavement right there & then & wait for the road sweeper & all his secret, early morning charms & the great wolf man, pork chop sideburns (lupine dreams)to clean you up & clean you out. I do declare!

For he knows-for he has seen. Seen the sun rise from his pearly throne up on the dark side of the moon, the very face of Bowie, right there in the eye socket. He sees all. You can live your life, & you do, & you should, but he, O’ he, he has really been there & where & back again. You carry on with your sleepy routine of mule-back coffee office doom death jobs(you sleepy Bohemian, you)  & in you spare time trying to keep your nose from filling up with water & your private parts entwined with somebody else’s most private of parts, & on the side lines of you spare time you can deal with your family & all the friends that you’re sick of but hold on to, only for the fear of being left alone in the dark with nothing but all of the above. Then again you always have your studies(STDS)all of the ologies, of course.

Sleepology, cocaineology,rainolgy, sunology, lonleyology, depressionology, suicideology, talkology,empypocketsology, meaninglessology, masterbationology, coutntingyourmoneyinpintsology,walkology, onenightstandology, jumpthetaxiology, begology, borrowology, stealology,feelology, upallnightology, sleepalldayology, Xology, ologyology, etcology etc…ology etc.

Just find something you can care for ‘*** [insert atheist god/idol] knows that nobody is going to do your caring for you, even I they do in fact care for you.

I have been beginning to notice,that I(and I may not be alone)

always look at the past through a marigold monocle.

This, meaning nothing now ever seems to be joyous or gay or splendiferous until it is a past memory.

A cobweb. A rafter. A leaf on the ground. …I guess.

         Chapter three:

I know you know it but people that you don’t know, really are a funny, funny thing…

I stand outside the rain & watch the people passing by; really the most depressing experience of my ever increasing years. Un-jolly fat men with whiskey-nose & scuffle-feet stanzas of gibberish, talking gibberish & gibberish being their inner most self. Pre-war women with Arctic-blue hair, faces melting, everything pointing down, shuffle. Kids pushing prams full of ugly babies towards a house of who-gives-a-**** & ******* & I’m-gonna-die-here and what of it. Is there really no more to life. Listen to the top 40 on the radio, clueless, oblivious. Cogs. All cogs. Military troglodytes following them back in a dead eyed daze, dreaming of killing in the real and virtual. No you may not have a cigarette. Leave me alone, please. Let me listen to my watch ticking in peace & at least pretend that you don’t exist.

The human body is comprised of several ‘substances’

including..

Mercury,

hydrogen hydroxide,

fountain pens,

the lost dates of calenders,

various small woodland animals,

including…

Voles,

rabbits & field mice.

Other such things as…

Misplaced birthmarks(of the brain)

feelings of remorse and regret,

the stolen trinkets of past lovers,

and of course,

white blood cells,

pesticides,

and the second hand

from a 1956 ’Hamilton Rail road’ pocket watch.

E.L August 7th

           Chapter four:

Last night, last night was the last night it was the night last

Picasso raincoat. Imagelessness. Bottomlessness. I lost my umbrella & my Holden Caulfield head-wear, again. I was skipping on a rain cloud, corduroy boy and scarecrow girl, reunited in a soft entanglement sticky in the senses. Hoof! The only way is up when you walk down these stairs, snakes and blisters, but you’ll sweat it all out in babble cream conversation and love in your eyes. Tell me a story, tell me a story, tell me something to prop my chin up in this brown tunnel. Your name it is something I cant care to remember but of course I never really had a name of my own either, so we shall be the great wonder of the nameless masses, the ones born to no name and never wanted one anyway. A name is nothing but a label, a calling card, call me anything, call me king Charles II just as long as you do call me, the sound of a voice, your voice, any voice reeling off a comprised anagram of the alphabet is enough to get my short attentive ears to perk up and twist my noggin backwards towards the direction of my inbuilt gypsy sonar. So anyway, I was going to talk about something, something great… but now its gone and all I have is bloodshot eyes and sweaty liars palms to prove to the world that I had an idea once, I swear I did.

Here’s an idea for you to dig you heels into:

The world keeps making mistakes, everybody makes mistakes, its natural, nothing to fear, it happens all day every day. BUT, with every mistake we make, we then proceed to learn from that mistake, so.. stay with me here… Once the world, the whole world meaning everyone in it, has made every mistake they can make and of course and one would hope of course, that they have also learned from all of these mistakes; once this has happened, there will be no more mistakes to make, right? Therefore leaving the world perfect as a whole, no mistakes to make, learnt their lessons on every lesson and we can all go on with living a perfect existence, yes?…

No.

I’ve really thought long and hard about it -could never happen, people are not perfect, they never will be, if they were I wouldn’t want to know any of them, and the world, well the world is an imperfect place, and the same rule applies.

But let me hit you with another bit of knowledge to round things off and maybe put a positive spin on things. Hoist ye marrow-thumbs around this;

One of the many few early times that my legs forgot how to use them selves, I was sitting on the pavement, trying for one to reattach these two now useless appendages stuck like butter to my lower torso, but foremost trying to light a cigarette with my useless cold hands and equally useless matches, fearful of the sneaky clear coward, invisible old Mr wind, when a kindly stranger, half my size, red my hair, opposite my *** and now opposite my broken legs appeared like a person will appear when you mind is in other minds, a smile, a sympathetic look and two working hands to fire up the stick in my mouth. I said my thanks, babbled about babble and the generation of gibberish and im sure many other things inconceivable to the sober ear of a dame such as she, the bringer of flame and enlightenment, not of the smoke but of the simple mind, an idea is what she left with me and it never left. She stopped my rambling typewriter of a tongue and said ‘shush’ she held my head in her hands, looked at me straight,so I thought she might be death or god or that I was passing out,she all green eyed and like the woods, looked at my eyes like they were tethered together and dropped the bomb on me, she said ”if you are looking at the moon, then everything is alright” kissed my warm on frozen forehead and was gone into the night, never to be seen again.

That’s all the advice you will ever need, & so ll I will leave you with.

You never left a name, but I never wanted one anyway.

Midnight moment

beautiful rags

midnight joy.


Nevermind your little light,

set apart your golden dreams

that offen break,

& come to play.


Chapter five: There are things I want to write but I am not going to write them.

The End.

‘Stay gold, Pony Boy’

will I ever be remembered
for more than my mistakes
when the choices that I've made
made more than one heart ache

will I ever be remembered
for more than my mistakes
when I ran out that liquor store
with whatever I could take

will I ever be remembered
for more than my mistakes
when I took the whole tab instead of half
and got lost among the shapes

will I ever be remembered
for more than my mistakes
because I whisper my accomplishments
and wonder what it takes

will I ever remember myself
for more than my mistakes

"lessons can be learned but without mistakes it can never be a better experience."

We all live with our mistakes; it may take a long time to overcome but the mistake we refuse to pay is the one that becomes who we are.

hello friends..today I have brought an extraordinary topic
     the topic is 'Mistakes' and 'Regrets'.
Everybody makes mistakes in life right friends but admitting it is a great things, admit before it get more complicated...

Normally
I reflect
I analyze each step,
and every word
I make
and say
to find the mistakes
the mistakes,
I always make.

But by you and with you
I do not reflect
or analyze
no step
and no word
I made
and said,
and even though I’ve made ​​mistakes,
the mistakes,
I always make,
I do not care.

Because when I’m with you,
walking with you
and talking to you,
I don’t have to
worry about my mistakes,
the mistakes,
I always make,
because you make me feel
like having no mistakes.

And I’m happy
happy
happy as long time
no more.

The broken images float inside my head.. drifting away.. time take me out of the frame the mistakes i've made never seemed to fade out of your head (as it is) you were always too quick to criticize you left with all that i was inside i guess the mistakes i've made never seemed to fade out of your head..