disarmed

this post – 

specific – 

intended. 

undeniably – unobtrusive.

words that speak from a shrine of good intention.

words that speak to humble – 

humility.

 

words that speak from a platform of compassion –

across the silence of a room of doubt…

 

it seems –

sometimes –

the closer we become to who we are, 

the further away we move from our comfort zone.

  

suddenly the definition – 

the boundaries –

the allowed,

becomes muted. 

uncertainty colored gray replaces the black and white contrast.

is –

becomes could,

should gets consumed by can’t.

  

as we search for answers to questions we have not the courage to ask, 

our serenity disappears –

lost in the chaos of despair…

 

these words –

surreptitiously culled from dissertations of faith –

sermons of solidarity.

and yet i wonder if you hear them through the discord of your lamentations.

 

prayers – i pray.

application for license to disarm.

all the while –

you remain isolated –

entombed within a vault of disbelief.

unable to see over walls built to disallow insurgence of attack –

denigration of emotional stability –

 

that in effect,

have become prisons

of self-imposed

indifference…

all we require

sometimes,
when the world is wrapped in night,
we pause –
breathe deep the comfort of quiet –
think about the could have been –
the should have been;
even contemplate the why not.
 
it’s in those times we find accommodation to the greatest options.
while possibly camouflaged in shades of speculation,
we own autonomy over indecision.
 
sometimes,
when we find ourselves alone,
we pause –
commiserate with our hurt,
hold hands with our pain.
feel justified in wearing our shroud of sorrow.
after all,
no one else could ever understand –
this water of fear much too deep,
much too wide –
for anyone to ever swim across; to survive.
 
sometimes,
wrapped up inside our feelings of reluctance,
we simply cannot see the purpose –
comprehend the reason for our struggle.
and as we grasp at threads of reason much too weak to hold our trembling hands,
we feel the battle lost –
surrender –
become,
undone…
 
sometimes,
we pray…
 
perhaps that is when we truly find our strength –
rather,
realize our potential.
with everything considered necessary – stripped away;
fear and anger,
pain and sorrow,
what we thought mattered and even cherished.
when completely emptied of all we desire –
at that moment to find we’ve been given all we require.

malady of assume

i will surrender –
allow silence to enter the realm of my consideration.
not that i’ve emptied the vat of thought.
rest assured there is chaos yet to corral –
imaginings to share –
inferences to propose.
in time.
just not tonight.
 
i would suggest,
however,
opinion kept in check.
sometimes more is said with silence than ramblings of un-intent.
perhaps a conversation –
cut short –
left fragments of suppose scattered along the floor of deliberation.
or,
possibly,
attention was not paid in full –
recipient left holding hands full of not quite enough.
 
so eagerly we hand out labels of indifference.
cast stones of unconcern.
yet fail to recognize our own misappropriation of bias –
fall victim to the malady of assume…

invitations of believe

we speak to the disenchanted.

stand on our soapboxes of pious indignation –

lash out at the arena’s of unconcerned –

wear watercolor hearts on our sleeves.

in front of crowds gathered to deter allegiance –

we throw arrows of solidarity –

our arsenal of antagonism unending.

words of condemnation; we choose.

yet fail to dislodge thumbs of impudence from holes in dams of manufactured religion.

religion.

all inclusive blanket of suppose.

folded up neatly and placed high on shelves of unavailable.

easily out of reach –

out of sight.

we speak –

but never seem to question the acceptance of those that hear.

irrelevant –

consensual commiseration.

in place of conviction –

we exhibit masks of implied.

utter memorized oracles of divine affiliation.

all the while –

completely unaware of the absence of acceptance to our invitations of believe…

when life becomes less defined… [2 Timothy 3: 1-7 KJV]

and just about now,

while the stars shine and the moon is slightly less than full, we wage wars against ourselves.
in this moment, instead of holding hands, we throw sparks – rekindle flames – ignite with fear the fires of discontent.
what will it accomplish? this war of indifference?
if in the end – when the smoke finally clears – we find all we’ve conquered – is good; all that remains – draped in darkness – sad shroud of victory worn by kings without crowns – left only to reign over the grave of morality.
and so it goes…
 
and just about now,
we boast and brag of conquests made in the name of jurisprudence –
encroach upon the boundaries of right and wrong –
yet fail to comprehend the majesty of benevolence.
 
and just about – now –
while making plans to ostracize God from our concept of creation –
we fail to realize the structure of our once great society is falling down –
thin walls of faith,
collapsing in upon themselves,
weakened – by the senseless acts – inhumanity of man –
 
and just about now –
the reality of our demise is heard –
not in the roar of mighty storms –
but subtle as the exit of day –
more personal than a whisper of consolation,
from the very lips of death…
 
(and now i lay me down to sleep ,
i pray the Lord,
my soul…)

hourglass of our demise

caught up in the vortex of assume.
we place our hearts on trays of trust –
offer invitation to presentations of our self.
 
with marked deliberation –
we push the everything of all we are onto center stage –
dim the lights –
create atmosphere of intimate accommodation.
and there.
exposed.
wearing only the skin of our re-purposed conviction –
we promenade our is –
recite monologues of our suppose.
there is,
i feel,
no sorrow more defined than diminished expectation.
to strip away the layers of apprehension –
peel off the mask of reluctant –
allow access to the very essence of our was,
in hopes of finding partner on the journey to our will become –
and find,
when naked of all but our indiscretion,
the effort wasted –
could-be not an option…
as the curtain begins to close –
lights of life begin to dim –
we realize the absence of audience.
as one by one the patrons reassigned.
most often to follow adventures we cannot comprehend.
while we remain –
restrained as sand within the hourglass of our own demise.

somewhat grey

incidental
yet so real –
to not be seen,
in ones recovery…
 
enigmatic as sight
must seem,
to one who cannot see!
 
how did the great,
become –
recumbent,
good?

night used to shower us in starlight;
prelude to morning sun…
ostentatious as full-moon!
but now,
there is no hole in the shroud of darkness…
and finding our – selves –
all alone,
intensifies the insecurity…
 
life raft – lost at sea.
addiction,
without the comfort of –
an addict!

all at once – alone…

5-31-61
my moment of glory.
a mere drop in the ocean of time.
for what it’s worth,
the entrance was no less grand than
that of Mendelssohn,
or Debussy,
or even – van Gogh!
the difference, however,
realized now in retrospect,
occurring over the
span of time –
My life…
 
culling through the memories,
picking out the fond ones to savor,
the hulls to cast aside –
i find few to etch in stone.
like the spider spinning his web,
all it takes is a strong wind,
and all at once –
alone!

disallowed

what purpose –
words.
 
manipulated expression designed to un-intend.
 
regardless the inquisition –
in spite of implied affirmation –
sometimes the only resolution comes from silence.
 
and if,
by chance –
you feel disconnected –
disallowed –
pushed outside the doorway of necessary,
perhaps your key was not designed to fit the lock –
 
just maybe,
the door was never meant to open…

need to be

forever does not consume me –
that span of time i cannot comprehend..
i focus on the now,
this moment…
 
you invade my – now –
standing in the doorway,
allowing no escape…
 
and so inside this room of possibility i remain –
trapped –
yet unafraid…
 
you,
need to be in control –
 
i just need to be…