Once


The script was written long ago

And the cast chosen well before the play

The lead, a charmer , glib and comely

Delighted in the role and played to the house.

“Packed to the the rafters’ , the agents would remark,

And adoration poured cross the boards.

For many years this blockbuster ran

It seemed the audience would neverĀ  bore

Of watching the magic that flowed, or hearing

the words that flowed so well with the score.

Till one gray afternoon while playing the matinee

One grizzled old actor realized with dismay

That the picture presented had grown so large

That his part had grown less than the life

surrounding.

And realized that all the energy imparted had taken its toll

So he stepped back and relished

And tried to embellish

What once was all about him

But now merely reflected that once was all he knew.

 

New Age


Pushed away at every turn
Why did I spend all that time
Trying to learn
Everything important in the world today
To then hear the man spurn me away?
I did my part
And grew up strong,
I won’t be told that
I am wrong.
I paid my dues and now the news
I hear falls hard on anxious ears.
I’m the one
Strong, bright and young
And all I need
Is only my due.
So why cant I have what I want?
Now, I mean.
All I did was all I was told,
“Work hard young man
This will all be yours,
One day.”
So now is my time
Is that so much to ask ?
Me and mine
Are the new generation.
The best you know,
They told us so.
I know.
Ive been told.
I am bold.
So why can’t I,
Really,
I mean…….now?

Graduation, Independence, Life

It does not change much from year to year, Does it ?

For Seth: Smiles,Fears,Love and Tears, They are all yours now.
Patience, Grandson ; )

Change


I am finding that while I sometimes think that I have some insight into the human condition and how the passage of time and the circumstances of life affects people , and enjoy the process of putting these feelings into words; I am horrible at taking my own advice. I do not transition well . ( That IS a verb, isn’t it ? ) lol ; )

Horizons


So, I am sitting around on a Saturday evening, bored as a gourd with nothing constructive to do, so I flip through some you tube videos and settle on watching season 14 Most Fun American Idol and find myself smiling to the point of crying and I wonder WTF is the matter with me.
Have you ever 24 ? Been so caught up in all the negative you have surrounded yourself with for the past year that you finally lost the ability to communicate in a positive manner ?
So,it is with a sense of relief bordering on foolishness and patheticism, and having discovered a newborn sense of wonder and amusement, I now have found a sense of direction and the remembered feeling of joviality necessary to help guide me back to,
personability, if you will.

Anyway, this bit made me feel a bit better, and a little bit better is definitely better than a bunch of bitter ! ; )

Start Over


Ahh, the stroke of the keypad feels rusty. The rhythym of the letters does not exist as a beat, a count, but rather as a rush and a rest, a starting and stopping.

My point of view has shifted so imperceptively but so very definitely, I suppose there should not be any wonder at the confusion that exists in my mind. I mean it IS still from behind the same eyes and from within the same mind I compose but with the emergence of a new facet built into wall of logic from whence the ideas flow it seems that the pull of the current steers the flow of the words onto and over the banks of the old stream of thought and begins cutting new channels that guide the impetus of expressed ideas and mores.

It really seems odd to me that the realization of what physical health means to the thinking being should change so much how that being expresses itself. Having come to that point I cannot deny what is so obviously true….I am not the same man I was two weeks ago. And that being said, even though my main thoughts and outlooks remain the same, enough variance exists that expressing those feelings is equal to revealing the thoughts of a comparative stranger.

When one declares from a platform familiar and steady the power of the words reflects the stability of the platform and when the platform exists in a state of flux the resolve of the words seems unsteady even to the hand that wields them.

Enough of self-revelation, for now it is enough to have restarted the engine and having goosed the throttle a little it is enough to have committed these few words to paper, it is enough to have acknowledged a new beginning.