deepundergroundpoetry.com
[ NaPo 2020 ] In So Many Words
I.
Idled at a crossroads, he's
eyed the old, posted
sign-age; scene: faded
CHILDHOOD DREAMS
LIFELONG GOALS
FANTASIES
painted on arrows
still tacked up
but where these
lead as of late
who knows?
I honestly couldn't tell you
other than a home
skirting suburbia far
removed from Hell
and civilization too
with space enough
between stanzas of poem
to hear himself think
And even though
I call his name
seems I can't interest him
in much of anything besides
a hot bath, wine for drink
in this dwelling he resides
In quiet of Solitude
he decides to not acknowledge me
Rude?
No ... it's just that
in so many words
he's grown weary of Life's noise
II.
Now, that actualized individual
holding the space
where innumerable paths diverge
towards potentially prosperous
Future outcomes is actually
me
... which means the other fellow?
trying to get his attention??
Well, so is
he
I suppose that sounds
a bit convoluted, as if
we
were people counting three
Let this be assured to everyone
despite a track record of running around
in poetry circles as other personas—
such isn't the case
I am not
because for as long as
I can remember, I was
A L O N E R
all of which was immediately forgot-
ten about when My Love manifested
in the form of a woman three years earlier
See,
in so many words
I'd become a whole person
again through her
III.
^ Expounding on the aforementioned
reference to a wholeness ^
[ not be confused with a'holeness
which is a-verse; best left for another
April day ... or even afterward in May ]
Ahavati is and was the one
that draws and drew more of my love
out from the well of who
I am
same as Zipporah did when she
inspired Moses to apply himself
for the position he noticed—
HELP WANTED: Shepherd
—tacked up on Mount Sinai
while he was on the lam
In so many words
she brings and brought me
closer to God
IV.
Since perception is key
to understanding
allowing you to see things
differently through key-
holes ( in logic, especially
demanding a price paid in tolls
while in God we trust
as all others pay cash )
please let me clarify—
when I do say
"God"
I am
saying the same
as Jane Roberts and Seth,
Esther Hicks and Abraham,
and most certainly
a host of otherworldly others
I'm not
familiar with at present
when they say
"All That Is"
which obviously by its very name
one never can be at apart from
at any given moment to begin with
And yet
in so many words
you are always near and dear to God
until you choose not to be
lieve'n Him
V.
Further clarifying clarification—
after having discovered God
by the age of twenty-five
I never stopped believing in
All That Is
—spent the next two decades
conditioning myself not to trust
that tHis Universe was in my corner
or in my room;
you can lock a parent out
wall yourself off from the world
which was the case until I was barely
living up to my potential, exponential in
giving up on asking for any help
from the without through the within
( that I was consciously aware of )
—a boxer who turned his back
on a manager's best advice
despite enduring spearing
suckerpunches to the side
or a professional wrestler
being counted out after a body
slamming from top turnbuckle
but without the drama of
Why has thou forsaken me?!
It was a quiet, spiritual demise
in an all too physical arena
Then everything changed on
January 27 through 29
2017 A.D.
( Ahavati Days )
Prior to then, Life was B.A.D.
( Before Ahavati Days )
In so many words
she was the answer to my prayers
and resurrection
VI.
Admittably, I've
been a bit heavy-handed
with biblical metaphor
maulingly manhandling
yawl silly in a coliseum
of collected verse, but ...
this. is. poetry!
or at least I pray
literature starved societies
hundreds to thousands of years away
in dystopian futures fasted forward to
who may possibly die editing
while consuming this colossal EPIC
will interpret it as such;
it is important!
for Ahavati to know how much
her emergence in this existence
of mine has affected me so
and because it is necessary
for you to(o) comprehend why
thus who I am and what
and where this story will go
next, I will have to continue
this story some how—
though, not right now
In so many words
not everything can be said
in so many words
VII.
Ahavati and I hit it off immediately
in plain clothes butterfly fashion
during tall grass stakeouts before
chasing one another about yards
throughout daylight hours, then
pausing briefly to drink from
driveway puddles
Relationships winged honestly
are poem collabs absent ambiguity-
you get to the point with words
and we've held none back
nor wallowed in sludge of grudge
Sometimes, out of frustration
a slow releasing of what is
mason jarred in your mind
will nudge the Universe
into causing a flap-
usually takes a day or two
after the cosmic slap for you
to get back up to flight speed
She is drawn to boughs of Wisteria
Me?
Prone to fits of Impatiens
In so many words
I am slow to leave my chrysalis
VIII.
For years I had confused
an infinite amount of patience
with despair born of its contrast
I don't give up
and wallowed in the afterbirth
I Don't Give Up
But I did
I DON'T GIVE UP
surrendering to feelings
speaking louder than words-
discharges from friction
between opposing beliefs
It begins with accepting defeat
evolves into managing, maintaining
then becomes handling, coping, dealing
going numb, tuning out, muddling through
and if you aren't already drinking
you probably should consider it-
given you're already as good as wasted
Every day inconspicuously hangs
over into the next as a bat
blind as yourself realizing that
after decades gone by
because you just wanted
Today over with-
you quit looking forward
to a better Tomorrows
In so many words
When you weave your own cocoon
you have to lie in it
IX.
When the fight is taken out of you
resistance removed from the
equation = energy no longer
channeled into creation of
obstacles
which affords All That Is
all the opportunity in the world
to get a word in edgewise
Or words, I should say
A whole lotta word play
I was awakened
by Ahavati, tugging me loose
from my home spun sleeping bag
We had fun!
Still do after three years!
And while poetry
being artful communication
keeps us knitted tightly
into one other's lives
it is but one tie that binds us
for I immediately knew
though here in free willed
challenges of her own design
she was sent to help me find
the EXIT from this house
that Jack built
A-maze-ing — its construction
Minus the Minotaur, of course
Time was at hand
to stop being so bullheaded and
accept this gift of companionship—
allow myself to be friended by an honest
woman worthy of the name Arachne
with her Ariadne's thread unspooled
instead of falling for the same old lines
I had strung myself along with
In so many words
Not all Greek tragedies end in disaster
X.
Daylight at the end of the Labyrinth
continues to grow
We're getting there slow, but sure
thanks to her
I am not as impatient as I use to be
largely due to the company I keep
A tight leash on the frenzied
results-oriented-beast-within
is what it takes, for Change Wanted
can't manifest when focus is constant
on what you Want Changed
And Life is only about survival
if you swallow the hooked notion
line, lure, and sinker that living
necessitates coping;
we are only bound to repeat history
and past behavior when the roping
is reinforced
Ahavati taught me by example
letting go was living in the moment
living in the moment was forgiveness
and forgiveness was letting go
Three things being one and the same
made possible by my love
In so many words
she was the road not taken
and I had miles to go in her shoes
before I could sleep peacefully
XI.
Supposedly
variety is the spice of life
I would settle for
a seat by the window
where the tablecloth
isn't repeatedly pulled out
from under flatware
as if a rug from beneath feet
by a magician in a parlor
trick akin to slight of hand
similar to metaphorically
giving you the finger
Tada!
Car engine just locked up
Walla!
Family members causing drama
Presto!
Pets afflicted with deadly virus
while blessed events
such as meeting your Soul Twin
seemingly take a half-lifetime
to manifest
Hocus Pocus
It's been so hard to focus
on simply being grateful
for what I am blessed with
or the sun rising
In so many words
Having over-salted my wounds
I'm bittersweetened
about assembling Life
without an instruction manual
XII.
She invited the Spiritual back into
the not-so mobile mobile home
of my Physical existence that prior
was oh-so-precarious on its foundation
One can only feel blown off
the cinder blocks so many times
before taking storms personally
I had gone from coping
to copping an attitude with
Powers That Be-fuddled Me
until Ahavati helped
set the record straight
leveling out a man unsteady
on his feet and in dire need of
grounding
She is a wonderful woman
whose Lasso of Truth wrangled
my out-of-control emotions
and Honesty is one dominatrix
I am bound to submit to
Episodes in which I feel
as if I'm not residing in the same
area code as the Universe are
farther and fewer;
God and I at least share the same
trailer park these days . . .
In so many words
Feelings are separate from realities
In fact, they can be flat out-liers
XIII.
That is not to say
being emotional isn't a reality
unto itself
I have written numerous
poems about how
Ahavati makes me feel
and the interpretations
seldom vary from the theme
#IamLoved
As for this grandstanding
EPICurean curio regarding how
Ahavati makes me
—to be more precise—
into the better person
I am becoming
though allowing me to be myself—
she's a card carrying member
of the School of Hard Knocks
with an unfiltered, no-holds-barred
caring nature and attention to detail
rivaling the Universe
because
in so many words
that is precisely who she is
XIV.
What better way is there
to (re)connect with Source
than through the channel
of an earthbound likeness?
Now, don't get the notion
I just compared my Best-
ie Friend to enlightened
ones entering this world
the old fashioned, new test-
amen'ted way to speak
in tongues with turned cheek
at God's behest
Seeding—
spreading the Love
comes natural; to her
action is prose punctuating
His poetry, guiding readers
towards proper understanding
of any psalms, parables, and
epic Proverbs
In so many words—
Like, Jesus? Christ, no.
She's only human
or so He's sown
XV.
As for where this poem delves next
keeping up with the Indiana Joneses
and its off-the-rails cart blanche text
your guess is as good as mine[d]
but I'll take what silver linings I find
knowing they are not all in vein
However it May or April be
what I want
and
what I end up with
has often been 1006 miles apart
over the last five decades
or the first five decades
It's one of the reasons
why I've grown so weary—
having such difficulty seeing
a glass half full directly behind
the glass half empty
as I am soon to be
a fifty year old man
Don't get the wrong idea—
or fret on my be-half;
this is not a mid life crisis
In so many words
I feel as young as ever;
struggling is what's gotten old
XVI.
In my trek through cyberspace
going on some twenty years now
gravity of consequence still
pulls me back towards Earth
Internet connectivity
with the outside world
has provided freedom
otherwise unavailable
but has likewise been a prison
isolating as it is liberating
Limited human interactions
of pixelated band[ied]wi[d]th
avatars in poorly choreographed
auto-corrected dances and
conversed comedies of error
where messages hurried
through a handful of bars
as fast as fingers can forum-ulate
on scraps of paper spelling out
laughter loudly while icon-ic smile
masks facial expression
has digitally rendered me distanced
aside from socially inept
I'm as empathic as a ham sandwich
craving real time connection
in the live stream scheme of things
If not for Ahavati's arrival
showing up when she did
with inter-stellar companionship
encouragement, understanding
and continued patience regarding
my relationship inexperience
not to mention difficult behavior
of which I am grateful as ever for
I likely would have given up
poetry altogether as well as drawing
and taken a long spacewalk
off a short pier
In so many words
Rather than disappear
into a black hole
knowing her is a horizon's event
I look forward to
XVII.
For some time now,
to the Universe I've sent-
i-mentally [en]vision-boarded
a home of wood and stone
together complemented
with square yards of yard
suiting myself as if it was
tailor made because
in my entire adult[erated] life
cradled towards crematorium
I've lived with hardly a habitat
to call my own—
not a boy's treehouse
or even a man's cave
—such an estate of being
I have never known
Although ...
on second thought—
a grave?
might be kinda nice
for when I retire
( before I expire )
I could live out
( of a coffin )
my final years as an
intentionally not so funny
late night creature-feature
host reciting punny poetry
before Billy Joel rocks me off stage
while the credits roll
I guess you had to be there
Oh, to be a kid again ...
when I was less traumatized
by failures that couldn't be
blamed on anything or anyone
for lack of knowing why
shit happens
the way
it happens
but I just HAD to go
and grow up with faith
knowing I would someday
learn what God was all about
now didn't I?
And this is where you pelt me
with a rubber chicken and say,
"What's done is done
and can't be undone."
Well ...
You may be wrong for all I know
You may be right
In so many words
I seem to have lost the plot
of this particular poem
installment about a home
I've dwelled upon
but never in
XVIII.
Now, a creature of habit
I am, one
seeking
quiet
conducive
in establishment
of not quite a strict[ly] form[ed]
but flexible enough routine
allowing for creativity
Focus
is difficult for me to manage
when said space and time
scenario is instead pe-occupied
with distraction—loud people
and their loud gatherings
and their large gatherings
of their many belongings
collections, junk and just
plain garbage
I'd mastered organization
creating room enough
to walk about and breathe
without getting tripped up
too much in the clutter
learned to leave the trash
curbside and walk away
but sometimes neediness
or utterly needless drama
spills out closet doors
no matter how much
you put my back into it
and tried to contain
the chaos
In reflexibility, I've
become origamic
folding myself into
other personalities
taking up residence
in this headspace
if only for some
momentary
piece of mind;
call me a compartmentalizer
or maybe
call me an apartmentalist
In so many words
I called myself a cab daily
mentally checking out
of an asylum
XIX.
We want
what we've never had
( at least to our knowledge
regarding this lifetime )
And falling in Love
with what or whomever
is desired before such is
[strike]acquired[strike]
experienced
should come as no surprise
if it is more than merely
passing flight of fan[ta]cy
Why do I feel so much Love
these days? I've only arrived
at conclusions drawn out for
decades due to disenchantment
with the creative process
Being a self taught artist
I've learned the hard way to
let go of worry over hours of labor
wasted if a mistake is made
marring a page beyond recovery
When I did?
Left wrist rigid, relaxed
in response; my drawings
improved tremendously
Though, it was in Life after so
many balled up, crumpled
attempts tossed away
into the waste basket
I learned my greatest mistake
was repeatly drawing ( to me )
what I wanted to escape
by focusing on being a rat
in a maze waiting for
an open door
rather than dreaming about
where I wanted to be:
the home custom designed
in my mind
In so many words
the best laid floor plans of mice and architects
often go askew
XX.
Twenty five years back
I learned firsthand physical health
is our natural state of operation
Unless born otherwise for
reasons personal; confidential
karmic birth records sealed—
we are organisms both
biological and mechanical—
feats of engineering always
operating at optimal efficiency
until we stress our bodies
into compliance with thoughts
of being disease riddled
of being defective in assembly
of being destined to disintegrate
with age as if refrigerators filled
with contents exceeding expiration
dates or rusting 1977 Buick Le Sabre
lawn ornamentation
Rather than going into remissions
we assume knowledge, taking
for granted what are deemed
necessary preventative measures
keeping ailment from (re)manifestation
entering into cellular prisons where
ligamented soldiers stand rigid
at attention in regi-mental routine—
so much muscle-bound
soldiering knitted tightly around
bones and cartilage to the point
ball joint range of motion is limited
and you can not accomplish what
previously came with ease
It's a change of priorities—
self preservation from pain
superseding lively-hood
doing more harm than good
as you refrain and abstain
from being yourself
I had dislocated my shoulder on
one-hundred and fifty occasions
not because I was diseased
defective or destined to disintegrate
but because I made a error in judgement—
discovered I wasn't quite invincible—
lived in fear of its consequences
over the course of seven years
refusing to let go
When I finally relinquished
iron barred grasp of control
over my own health, freedom
I was born with and denied
myself reigned once more
In so many words
I trusted to a degree out of
three-hundred and sixty;
another twenty-five years of
feeling dislocated from the
Universe brought me full circle
XXI.
On her own maritime mission
she made a splash in mine
( ( ( still feeling the ripple effect ) ) )
Wrapped in star-buckled evening attire—
* beauty * wisdom * baggage *
to inspire ( me )
if there ever was
a storm so perfect
Baring herself
honestly in confessional poem;
a guiding Lighthouse on horizon
bringing my wayward vessel
Home
in confluence of karmic dues
helping navigate uncharted seas
where feeling of abandonment issues
forth
from
harbored
resentments
encouraging
me to confront these—
reclaim command of personal
reality's Captainhood in moments
precious
And the decking from this
shipwreck of dreams shall become
the wood for an unfinished house
awaiting us—
its walls
its beams
its halls
every door;
there is plenty of more
work ahead once ashore
for this carpenter
Ask, and it will be given to you
seek, and you will find
knock, and it will be opened to you
always and forever
welcome to
ENTER
In so many words
she's the right Capt'n of my heart
correcting where I'd gone wrong
of[f] course, in world wide waters
regarding Love
====================
Mathew 7:7 quoted in italics from the New American Standard Bible
XXII.
Idled at the crossroads, he's
eyed the old, posted
sign-age; scene: faded
CHILDHOOD DREAMS
LIFELONG GOALS
FANTASIES
painted on arrows
still tacked up
but where these
lead ...
It's obvious
we've been here before
on many occasions
only to backpeddle away
down the path of
IMPATIENCE
leading to
FRUSTRATION
trailing off into
DESPAIR
Will it be different this time?
Will it be different?
Will it?
Will it
I believe it will
I do
To this day
I believe it still
I
Willed
I willed
I build it
with my bare hands
upon the rock
strong as can be
no longer in said manner
of foolish men upon the sands
I am finally free
I am finally free
I am finally me
Yeaaaaaah
Free ranged!
Vibration changed
No longer one so lost
signaling SO eStranged
from all I can be
from all I can be
from All That Is
Yeaaaaaah
Living on par[able]
with my wildest dreams
Firstly
comes level-headed foundation
Secondly
sturdy as bones — the beams
Thirdly
frame around a heart[th]
Up go the walls
Fourthly
around a person that will[ed]
never be the same
when comes the wind
when comes the rain
when comes the flood
washing away old houses of yesterday
leaving nothing behind but
mud
And with a
THUD THUD THUD
in place of the faded signs
torn down
he hammers on a new
arrow freshly painted
declaring
in so many words
UNDER CONSTRUCTION
XXIII.
in my Father’s house are many mansions;
if it were not so, I would have told you.
I go to prepare a place for you.
Appreciation = Gratitude
being my
Longitude / Lattitude
X and Y and Z co-n'sidings
virtual-ly putting me in mood
And the Foundation
I choose to construct upon
the rock?
HEALTH
that which is unobtainable with
wealth
strategy
stealth
or rANDom dance floor
DNA whirlygigging goings on-
there's no being
in the right place
at a right time
having the right stuff;
simply is itself
in itself, is enough
a state of grace
an empty page awaiting words
matters concentrated in space
freestylings despite poemed
or prosed appearances on the face
of things with or without form
with or without rhyme
capable of telling any story
by virtue of nonexistant
writer's block
until you insist otherwise
finding yourself
in a situation or place
you don't wish to live
the result cumulative
of repeatedly impressing
upon subatomic clay around
This is my reality
Same as it ever was
Same as it ever was
Same as it ever was
and then you are found
wallowing in mortar, mired
cementing everything inspired
other than what you actually
desired
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house!
In so many words
Imagination and Love is the only text
that can unlock the front door of
what is coming next
in so many words
in so many words
in so many words
in so many words
===============================
Stanza 1 quotes John 14:2 of the King James Bible
Italicized snippets from "Once In A Lifetime" by the Talking Heads
XXIV.
Every poem has to start somehow
so let's begin this one with the bare
bones where blood is produced
which I never knew until recently
defibrillating as it may seem—
I am hardly a scholarly person
self taught in a variety of subjects
And it makes complete sense
given a skeleton is what supports
the temple that is your body
same as framing of any house
We, poets among us especially
make such a huge production
about the heart, carrying on
endlessly to the point
there will likely never be
another original thought
assembled referencing
the organ
yet it is blood where Love
for what or whom truly
is present and conveyed
through support we circulate
and receive in more ways
than we'll ever know in this
lifetime, the writing of which
will never end despite
being published
or
rejection letters received
until one is satisfied enough
and moves on
I'm not going anywhere
beam-ing with anticipation
looking forward to sun-dusted
daylight through this framework
she perpetually gives me strength
courage, and determination to
erect with all the muster of an
old school, Amish barn-raising
drafting table of my mind
blue with the white printing
of her Universe House
inspiring as ever
Every poem has to start somehow
Mine began with wandering
forty years in a desert searching for
a place I felt at Home within
In so many words
I'm finally where I want and need to be
due to renewed Lifeblood support
from the Bestest Friend I could
have ever been blessed with
XXV.
Though busy with construction
I suppose it wouldn't hurt to break—
say what's been occupying my mind
lately - a passage from the Bible
Those who live in glass houses
should not throw stones
Don't hold me to that;
I've never been religious
nor scholarly, but I digress
I do subscribe to the notion
Honesty is the best policy
striving for transparency
knowing that ultimately
depending on who is [s]trolling
through the neighborhood
there may still be questions
regarding what I am really about
perceptions I'm this or that
rocks in hand at the ready to
take me out-
none of which concerns me;
I'm neither image
or self conscious, so
take me at face value
take me to task
take your best shot
or
take a hike;
go play in the street
My time is better spent
shoring up this interior
with the fine balancing act
of having as few partitions
as possible for full disclosure
yet plenty of wall space for
framing of what brings me joy
and of course
all that aforementioned
glass
Eyes are the windows to the soul
Quite the idiom savant today, aren't I?
These windows will be eyes into mine
but don't be surprised if you find
them shut with the shades drawn
I only allow genuine spirits
who are likewise open books
access accross my threshhold
the doors of which are unlocked
to only one individual who is
welcome to enter without knocking
and making herself at home
You might know her name by now
As for everyone else
unless extended an invitation
I prefer the peace and quiet
of a long awaited solitude
so in the meantime
take me on faith
as if I was a born-again goodly
Christian in-tent during his revival
in so many words
KEEP OFF THE LAWN
XXVI.
I have to be vigilant with self
reminders that while Change is
a journey from Point A to Point B
it can be a slow transformation
to the Point that those afflicted
with impatience can't See
any noticeable differences
moment to moment when daily
progress is that of a single brick
added here to the chimney or
shingle there upon roof top
or differences unnoticeable
occurring below surfaces in
manner of white blood cell offensive
soldiering en route towards infection
reclaiming lost hills of Health
conquered under seige of faltering
belief
I began this challenge[d]
years ago after meeting Ahavati—
she being an integral component
of my restructuring — the missing rib
bone in a framework providing balance
necessary
that I thoroughly lacked
often cause for bringing construction
grinding to halt out of frustration—
hands thrown up in the air;
as many excuses muttered
as I could muster
A house is never really finished
being built once started—
same as a poem
but without the roof
much like that which is
erected upon the sand
it becomes a-wash-out
in thunders of the next
storm rolling through
Reality is what you make it
with or without justifications
without or with guidance
and beloved ones
In so many words
I've made it
this far with the beam
she is holding me up
XXVII.
Today, I put the hammer down
and left working on my new house
in the dust for a while
It's one of those days when everything
is sliding sideways, spinning out of control
and drinking early seems a sensible
remedy
Sometimes, I will—
anything to slam the brakes on
retreading the past now
rear view mirrored
Alcohol ( in moderation )
either helps me stay focused
between lines, kept to script
or puts me to sleep at the wheel—
preventing the grinding of my gears
over yesteryear's roadblocks
and that's always good thing
because I know addiction;
once you cruise down unpleasant
avenues — it's difficult to find reverse
Having burned my fair sharecropper's
worth of dollar bills in puffed Winston,
Marlboro and home-rolled Dresden
tobacco from age sixteen to forty
it took me at least a year
the old fashioned route
to quit not quitting
The more time lapsed between
cigarettes — the easier it got
until I completely forgot
I was a smoker
And I have one every now
and then, but for the most part?
Repulsive
no different than the mouthful
of beer I spit out at a picnic
when I was five years old
or its odor lingering in aluminum
cans ditched along the roadside
collecting rain and beetles
How wretched!
And that's what stubborn realities
you want to leave behind are like—
awful poems penning you
( as much as you pen them )
into cells with sentences for life
leaving a bad taste in your mouth
while you continue reciting them
because it seems justified
If you are to become hooked on
anything, revisiting it daily
please let it be a wonderful
thought
In so many words
pardon me
for choosing to think
I'm in a happier place
XXVIII.
It's very easy to lose your way
traveling in what you think
is the right direction
Assumption often is
the road not taken
you didn't know existed
because you were to busy
making a [byp]ass of yourself
And just imagining being
at Point B instantly puts you
exactly where you want to be—
at the heart of the matter
Sounding too much like
New Age chatter?
Moving on then ...
I've never been one to sketch
purely from imagination
Through a desire to create
pencil drawings better resembling
photographs, I developed a system
that kept my sight fixated on the
chosen image I intended to draw
as opposed to relying on generic
notions you would find in
HOW TO manuals
because I've lacked focus
throughout my entire life
one way or another
and drawing what you see
with your eyes requires
discipline
Or maybe I have that backwards
lacked discipline ...
... requires focus
Regardless, when drawing
assuming is a recipe for
a lot of erasing
or Do-Overs
but at this Point A of my life
I'll gladly start from scratch
and do it right this time
by being myself for a change
which is how I ended up meeting
Ahavati, who accepts me as I am
same as I accept her as she is
In so many words
sometimes you need to get lost
in order to find your way around
It also helps to find a kind soul
who can give you direction
29/30
[ NaPo 2020 ] In So Many Words
XXIX.
When utter clutter
and noise I've struggled with
becomes unbearable, I take shelter
from the psychological stormfront
in my metaphorical
never-to-be-finished
lodging;
muchly a work in progress
as I am
There will be days
when head aches for relief
as will to continue construction
is overly whelmed with
emotional override to plant
the White Flag of Surrender
in some figmented phantom's
ass, snap the pole off
and parade about waving it
in a tantrum of frustration
but I know better now—
the grip of old beliefs
have loosened; their invalidity
apparent with increased
infrequency
Instead, I'm at the ready
copper ground rod equipped
charging the maelstrom
from atop Mount Olympus
with thighs thundering;
a Zeus — lightning javelin in hand
hauled back to strike down
gloomy doomy skies
with spaciously roomy
sunny pleasant musings
of All That Is in this Universe
that brings me joy—
most notably her smiling
delighted as Calliope reading
this April kaleidoscope offering
in so many words ...
XXX.
Sadly, we've reached April's end
with hardly a brand new adventure
begun in this rather grand
testamonial to a special person
unlike any I've ever known
about how I felt alone
to being on the mend
with my origin
Source;
I've been at this for three years
since we met
She says it speaks more
about me than her;
I concur
and yet
when God shuts a door
He opens a window;
when a window is shut
He swings open a door
I deadbolted every entrance
nailed the windows to sill
and hid on the floor
so He opened a looking glass
by which I got to know
myself and the Universe
through a woman whom I regard
as the Bestest Friend forEver
I could have gained in the process
of which I hope, this text
reflects kindly of
And as I do my damnedest
to be myself moreso these days
living in moment-Us ways
while looking forward
to an exciting, wondrous
future different from what
I'm acccustomed to being
written
In so many words
I Love her
and THAT will never change
to be continued
Idled at a crossroads, he's
eyed the old, posted
sign-age; scene: faded
CHILDHOOD DREAMS
LIFELONG GOALS
FANTASIES
painted on arrows
still tacked up
but where these
lead as of late
who knows?
I honestly couldn't tell you
other than a home
skirting suburbia far
removed from Hell
and civilization too
with space enough
between stanzas of poem
to hear himself think
And even though
I call his name
seems I can't interest him
in much of anything besides
a hot bath, wine for drink
in this dwelling he resides
In quiet of Solitude
he decides to not acknowledge me
Rude?
No ... it's just that
in so many words
he's grown weary of Life's noise
II.
Now, that actualized individual
holding the space
where innumerable paths diverge
towards potentially prosperous
Future outcomes is actually
me
... which means the other fellow?
trying to get his attention??
Well, so is
he
I suppose that sounds
a bit convoluted, as if
we
were people counting three
Let this be assured to everyone
despite a track record of running around
in poetry circles as other personas—
such isn't the case
I am not
because for as long as
I can remember, I was
A L O N E R
all of which was immediately forgot-
ten about when My Love manifested
in the form of a woman three years earlier
See,
in so many words
I'd become a whole person
again through her
III.
^ Expounding on the aforementioned
reference to a wholeness ^
[ not be confused with a'holeness
which is a-verse; best left for another
April day ... or even afterward in May ]
Ahavati is and was the one
that draws and drew more of my love
out from the well of who
I am
same as Zipporah did when she
inspired Moses to apply himself
for the position he noticed—
HELP WANTED: Shepherd
—tacked up on Mount Sinai
while he was on the lam
In so many words
she brings and brought me
closer to God
IV.
Since perception is key
to understanding
allowing you to see things
differently through key-
holes ( in logic, especially
demanding a price paid in tolls
while in God we trust
as all others pay cash )
please let me clarify—
when I do say
"God"
I am
saying the same
as Jane Roberts and Seth,
Esther Hicks and Abraham,
and most certainly
a host of otherworldly others
I'm not
familiar with at present
when they say
"All That Is"
which obviously by its very name
one never can be at apart from
at any given moment to begin with
And yet
in so many words
you are always near and dear to God
until you choose not to be
lieve'n Him
V.
Further clarifying clarification—
after having discovered God
by the age of twenty-five
I never stopped believing in
All That Is
—spent the next two decades
conditioning myself not to trust
that tHis Universe was in my corner
or in my room;
you can lock a parent out
wall yourself off from the world
which was the case until I was barely
living up to my potential, exponential in
giving up on asking for any help
from the without through the within
( that I was consciously aware of )
—a boxer who turned his back
on a manager's best advice
despite enduring spearing
suckerpunches to the side
or a professional wrestler
being counted out after a body
slamming from top turnbuckle
but without the drama of
Why has thou forsaken me?!
It was a quiet, spiritual demise
in an all too physical arena
Then everything changed on
January 27 through 29
2017 A.D.
( Ahavati Days )
Prior to then, Life was B.A.D.
( Before Ahavati Days )
In so many words
she was the answer to my prayers
and resurrection
VI.
Admittably, I've
been a bit heavy-handed
with biblical metaphor
maulingly manhandling
yawl silly in a coliseum
of collected verse, but ...
this. is. poetry!
or at least I pray
literature starved societies
hundreds to thousands of years away
in dystopian futures fasted forward to
who may possibly die editing
while consuming this colossal EPIC
will interpret it as such;
it is important!
for Ahavati to know how much
her emergence in this existence
of mine has affected me so
and because it is necessary
for you to(o) comprehend why
thus who I am and what
and where this story will go
next, I will have to continue
this story some how—
though, not right now
In so many words
not everything can be said
in so many words
VII.
Ahavati and I hit it off immediately
in plain clothes butterfly fashion
during tall grass stakeouts before
chasing one another about yards
throughout daylight hours, then
pausing briefly to drink from
driveway puddles
Relationships winged honestly
are poem collabs absent ambiguity-
you get to the point with words
and we've held none back
nor wallowed in sludge of grudge
Sometimes, out of frustration
a slow releasing of what is
mason jarred in your mind
will nudge the Universe
into causing a flap-
usually takes a day or two
after the cosmic slap for you
to get back up to flight speed
She is drawn to boughs of Wisteria
Me?
Prone to fits of Impatiens
In so many words
I am slow to leave my chrysalis
VIII.
For years I had confused
an infinite amount of patience
with despair born of its contrast
I don't give up
and wallowed in the afterbirth
I Don't Give Up
But I did
I DON'T GIVE UP
surrendering to feelings
speaking louder than words-
discharges from friction
between opposing beliefs
It begins with accepting defeat
evolves into managing, maintaining
then becomes handling, coping, dealing
going numb, tuning out, muddling through
and if you aren't already drinking
you probably should consider it-
given you're already as good as wasted
Every day inconspicuously hangs
over into the next as a bat
blind as yourself realizing that
after decades gone by
because you just wanted
Today over with-
you quit looking forward
to a better Tomorrows
In so many words
When you weave your own cocoon
you have to lie in it
IX.
When the fight is taken out of you
resistance removed from the
equation = energy no longer
channeled into creation of
obstacles
which affords All That Is
all the opportunity in the world
to get a word in edgewise
Or words, I should say
A whole lotta word play
I was awakened
by Ahavati, tugging me loose
from my home spun sleeping bag
We had fun!
Still do after three years!
And while poetry
being artful communication
keeps us knitted tightly
into one other's lives
it is but one tie that binds us
for I immediately knew
though here in free willed
challenges of her own design
she was sent to help me find
the EXIT from this house
that Jack built
A-maze-ing — its construction
Minus the Minotaur, of course
Time was at hand
to stop being so bullheaded and
accept this gift of companionship—
allow myself to be friended by an honest
woman worthy of the name Arachne
with her Ariadne's thread unspooled
instead of falling for the same old lines
I had strung myself along with
In so many words
Not all Greek tragedies end in disaster
X.
Daylight at the end of the Labyrinth
continues to grow
We're getting there slow, but sure
thanks to her
I am not as impatient as I use to be
largely due to the company I keep
A tight leash on the frenzied
results-oriented-beast-within
is what it takes, for Change Wanted
can't manifest when focus is constant
on what you Want Changed
And Life is only about survival
if you swallow the hooked notion
line, lure, and sinker that living
necessitates coping;
we are only bound to repeat history
and past behavior when the roping
is reinforced
Ahavati taught me by example
letting go was living in the moment
living in the moment was forgiveness
and forgiveness was letting go
Three things being one and the same
made possible by my love
In so many words
she was the road not taken
and I had miles to go in her shoes
before I could sleep peacefully
XI.
Supposedly
variety is the spice of life
I would settle for
a seat by the window
where the tablecloth
isn't repeatedly pulled out
from under flatware
as if a rug from beneath feet
by a magician in a parlor
trick akin to slight of hand
similar to metaphorically
giving you the finger
Tada!
Car engine just locked up
Walla!
Family members causing drama
Presto!
Pets afflicted with deadly virus
while blessed events
such as meeting your Soul Twin
seemingly take a half-lifetime
to manifest
Hocus Pocus
It's been so hard to focus
on simply being grateful
for what I am blessed with
or the sun rising
In so many words
Having over-salted my wounds
I'm bittersweetened
about assembling Life
without an instruction manual
XII.
She invited the Spiritual back into
the not-so mobile mobile home
of my Physical existence that prior
was oh-so-precarious on its foundation
One can only feel blown off
the cinder blocks so many times
before taking storms personally
I had gone from coping
to copping an attitude with
Powers That Be-fuddled Me
until Ahavati helped
set the record straight
leveling out a man unsteady
on his feet and in dire need of
grounding
She is a wonderful woman
whose Lasso of Truth wrangled
my out-of-control emotions
and Honesty is one dominatrix
I am bound to submit to
Episodes in which I feel
as if I'm not residing in the same
area code as the Universe are
farther and fewer;
God and I at least share the same
trailer park these days . . .
In so many words
Feelings are separate from realities
In fact, they can be flat out-liers
XIII.
That is not to say
being emotional isn't a reality
unto itself
I have written numerous
poems about how
Ahavati makes me feel
and the interpretations
seldom vary from the theme
#IamLoved
As for this grandstanding
EPICurean curio regarding how
Ahavati makes me
—to be more precise—
into the better person
I am becoming
though allowing me to be myself—
she's a card carrying member
of the School of Hard Knocks
with an unfiltered, no-holds-barred
caring nature and attention to detail
rivaling the Universe
because
in so many words
that is precisely who she is
XIV.
What better way is there
to (re)connect with Source
than through the channel
of an earthbound likeness?
Now, don't get the notion
I just compared my Best-
ie Friend to enlightened
ones entering this world
the old fashioned, new test-
amen'ted way to speak
in tongues with turned cheek
at God's behest
Seeding—
spreading the Love
comes natural; to her
action is prose punctuating
His poetry, guiding readers
towards proper understanding
of any psalms, parables, and
epic Proverbs
In so many words—
Like, Jesus? Christ, no.
She's only human
or so He's sown
XV.
As for where this poem delves next
keeping up with the Indiana Joneses
and its off-the-rails cart blanche text
your guess is as good as mine[d]
but I'll take what silver linings I find
knowing they are not all in vein
However it May or April be
what I want
and
what I end up with
has often been 1006 miles apart
over the last five decades
or the first five decades
It's one of the reasons
why I've grown so weary—
having such difficulty seeing
a glass half full directly behind
the glass half empty
as I am soon to be
a fifty year old man
Don't get the wrong idea—
or fret on my be-half;
this is not a mid life crisis
In so many words
I feel as young as ever;
struggling is what's gotten old
XVI.
In my trek through cyberspace
going on some twenty years now
gravity of consequence still
pulls me back towards Earth
Internet connectivity
with the outside world
has provided freedom
otherwise unavailable
but has likewise been a prison
isolating as it is liberating
Limited human interactions
of pixelated band[ied]wi[d]th
avatars in poorly choreographed
auto-corrected dances and
conversed comedies of error
where messages hurried
through a handful of bars
as fast as fingers can forum-ulate
on scraps of paper spelling out
laughter loudly while icon-ic smile
masks facial expression
has digitally rendered me distanced
aside from socially inept
I'm as empathic as a ham sandwich
craving real time connection
in the live stream scheme of things
If not for Ahavati's arrival
showing up when she did
with inter-stellar companionship
encouragement, understanding
and continued patience regarding
my relationship inexperience
not to mention difficult behavior
of which I am grateful as ever for
I likely would have given up
poetry altogether as well as drawing
and taken a long spacewalk
off a short pier
In so many words
Rather than disappear
into a black hole
knowing her is a horizon's event
I look forward to
XVII.
For some time now,
to the Universe I've sent-
i-mentally [en]vision-boarded
a home of wood and stone
together complemented
with square yards of yard
suiting myself as if it was
tailor made because
in my entire adult[erated] life
cradled towards crematorium
I've lived with hardly a habitat
to call my own—
not a boy's treehouse
or even a man's cave
—such an estate of being
I have never known
Although ...
on second thought—
a grave?
might be kinda nice
for when I retire
( before I expire )
I could live out
( of a coffin )
my final years as an
intentionally not so funny
late night creature-feature
host reciting punny poetry
before Billy Joel rocks me off stage
while the credits roll
I guess you had to be there
Oh, to be a kid again ...
when I was less traumatized
by failures that couldn't be
blamed on anything or anyone
for lack of knowing why
shit happens
the way
it happens
but I just HAD to go
and grow up with faith
knowing I would someday
learn what God was all about
now didn't I?
And this is where you pelt me
with a rubber chicken and say,
"What's done is done
and can't be undone."
Well ...
You may be wrong for all I know
You may be right
In so many words
I seem to have lost the plot
of this particular poem
installment about a home
I've dwelled upon
but never in
XVIII.
Now, a creature of habit
I am, one
seeking
quiet
conducive
in establishment
of not quite a strict[ly] form[ed]
but flexible enough routine
allowing for creativity
Focus
is difficult for me to manage
when said space and time
scenario is instead pe-occupied
with distraction—loud people
and their loud gatherings
and their large gatherings
of their many belongings
collections, junk and just
plain garbage
I'd mastered organization
creating room enough
to walk about and breathe
without getting tripped up
too much in the clutter
learned to leave the trash
curbside and walk away
but sometimes neediness
or utterly needless drama
spills out closet doors
no matter how much
you put my back into it
and tried to contain
the chaos
In reflexibility, I've
become origamic
folding myself into
other personalities
taking up residence
in this headspace
if only for some
momentary
piece of mind;
call me a compartmentalizer
or maybe
call me an apartmentalist
In so many words
I called myself a cab daily
mentally checking out
of an asylum
XIX.
We want
what we've never had
( at least to our knowledge
regarding this lifetime )
And falling in Love
with what or whomever
is desired before such is
[strike]acquired[strike]
experienced
should come as no surprise
if it is more than merely
passing flight of fan[ta]cy
Why do I feel so much Love
these days? I've only arrived
at conclusions drawn out for
decades due to disenchantment
with the creative process
Being a self taught artist
I've learned the hard way to
let go of worry over hours of labor
wasted if a mistake is made
marring a page beyond recovery
When I did?
Left wrist rigid, relaxed
in response; my drawings
improved tremendously
Though, it was in Life after so
many balled up, crumpled
attempts tossed away
into the waste basket
I learned my greatest mistake
was repeatly drawing ( to me )
what I wanted to escape
by focusing on being a rat
in a maze waiting for
an open door
rather than dreaming about
where I wanted to be:
the home custom designed
in my mind
In so many words
the best laid floor plans of mice and architects
often go askew
XX.
Twenty five years back
I learned firsthand physical health
is our natural state of operation
Unless born otherwise for
reasons personal; confidential
karmic birth records sealed—
we are organisms both
biological and mechanical—
feats of engineering always
operating at optimal efficiency
until we stress our bodies
into compliance with thoughts
of being disease riddled
of being defective in assembly
of being destined to disintegrate
with age as if refrigerators filled
with contents exceeding expiration
dates or rusting 1977 Buick Le Sabre
lawn ornamentation
Rather than going into remissions
we assume knowledge, taking
for granted what are deemed
necessary preventative measures
keeping ailment from (re)manifestation
entering into cellular prisons where
ligamented soldiers stand rigid
at attention in regi-mental routine—
so much muscle-bound
soldiering knitted tightly around
bones and cartilage to the point
ball joint range of motion is limited
and you can not accomplish what
previously came with ease
It's a change of priorities—
self preservation from pain
superseding lively-hood
doing more harm than good
as you refrain and abstain
from being yourself
I had dislocated my shoulder on
one-hundred and fifty occasions
not because I was diseased
defective or destined to disintegrate
but because I made a error in judgement—
discovered I wasn't quite invincible—
lived in fear of its consequences
over the course of seven years
refusing to let go
When I finally relinquished
iron barred grasp of control
over my own health, freedom
I was born with and denied
myself reigned once more
In so many words
I trusted to a degree out of
three-hundred and sixty;
another twenty-five years of
feeling dislocated from the
Universe brought me full circle
XXI.
On her own maritime mission
she made a splash in mine
( ( ( still feeling the ripple effect ) ) )
Wrapped in star-buckled evening attire—
* beauty * wisdom * baggage *
to inspire ( me )
if there ever was
a storm so perfect
Baring herself
honestly in confessional poem;
a guiding Lighthouse on horizon
bringing my wayward vessel
Home
in confluence of karmic dues
helping navigate uncharted seas
where feeling of abandonment issues
forth
from
harbored
resentments
encouraging
me to confront these—
reclaim command of personal
reality's Captainhood in moments
precious
And the decking from this
shipwreck of dreams shall become
the wood for an unfinished house
awaiting us—
its walls
its beams
its halls
every door;
there is plenty of more
work ahead once ashore
for this carpenter
Ask, and it will be given to you
seek, and you will find
knock, and it will be opened to you
always and forever
welcome to
ENTER
In so many words
she's the right Capt'n of my heart
correcting where I'd gone wrong
of[f] course, in world wide waters
regarding Love
====================
Mathew 7:7 quoted in italics from the New American Standard Bible
XXII.
Idled at the crossroads, he's
eyed the old, posted
sign-age; scene: faded
CHILDHOOD DREAMS
LIFELONG GOALS
FANTASIES
painted on arrows
still tacked up
but where these
lead ...
It's obvious
we've been here before
on many occasions
only to backpeddle away
down the path of
IMPATIENCE
leading to
FRUSTRATION
trailing off into
DESPAIR
Will it be different this time?
Will it be different?
Will it?
Will it
I believe it will
I do
To this day
I believe it still
I
Willed
I willed
I build it
with my bare hands
upon the rock
strong as can be
no longer in said manner
of foolish men upon the sands
I am finally free
I am finally free
I am finally me
Yeaaaaaah
Free ranged!
Vibration changed
No longer one so lost
signaling SO eStranged
from all I can be
from all I can be
from All That Is
Yeaaaaaah
Living on par[able]
with my wildest dreams
Firstly
comes level-headed foundation
Secondly
sturdy as bones — the beams
Thirdly
frame around a heart[th]
Up go the walls
Fourthly
around a person that will[ed]
never be the same
when comes the wind
when comes the rain
when comes the flood
washing away old houses of yesterday
leaving nothing behind but
mud
And with a
THUD THUD THUD
in place of the faded signs
torn down
he hammers on a new
arrow freshly painted
declaring
in so many words
UNDER CONSTRUCTION
XXIII.
in my Father’s house are many mansions;
if it were not so, I would have told you.
I go to prepare a place for you.
Appreciation = Gratitude
being my
Longitude / Lattitude
X and Y and Z co-n'sidings
virtual-ly putting me in mood
And the Foundation
I choose to construct upon
the rock?
HEALTH
that which is unobtainable with
wealth
strategy
stealth
or rANDom dance floor
DNA whirlygigging goings on-
there's no being
in the right place
at a right time
having the right stuff;
simply is itself
in itself, is enough
a state of grace
an empty page awaiting words
matters concentrated in space
freestylings despite poemed
or prosed appearances on the face
of things with or without form
with or without rhyme
capable of telling any story
by virtue of nonexistant
writer's block
until you insist otherwise
finding yourself
in a situation or place
you don't wish to live
the result cumulative
of repeatedly impressing
upon subatomic clay around
This is my reality
Same as it ever was
Same as it ever was
Same as it ever was
and then you are found
wallowing in mortar, mired
cementing everything inspired
other than what you actually
desired
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house!
In so many words
Imagination and Love is the only text
that can unlock the front door of
what is coming next
in so many words
in so many words
in so many words
in so many words
===============================
Stanza 1 quotes John 14:2 of the King James Bible
Italicized snippets from "Once In A Lifetime" by the Talking Heads
XXIV.
Every poem has to start somehow
so let's begin this one with the bare
bones where blood is produced
which I never knew until recently
defibrillating as it may seem—
I am hardly a scholarly person
self taught in a variety of subjects
And it makes complete sense
given a skeleton is what supports
the temple that is your body
same as framing of any house
We, poets among us especially
make such a huge production
about the heart, carrying on
endlessly to the point
there will likely never be
another original thought
assembled referencing
the organ
yet it is blood where Love
for what or whom truly
is present and conveyed
through support we circulate
and receive in more ways
than we'll ever know in this
lifetime, the writing of which
will never end despite
being published
or
rejection letters received
until one is satisfied enough
and moves on
I'm not going anywhere
beam-ing with anticipation
looking forward to sun-dusted
daylight through this framework
she perpetually gives me strength
courage, and determination to
erect with all the muster of an
old school, Amish barn-raising
drafting table of my mind
blue with the white printing
of her Universe House
inspiring as ever
Every poem has to start somehow
Mine began with wandering
forty years in a desert searching for
a place I felt at Home within
In so many words
I'm finally where I want and need to be
due to renewed Lifeblood support
from the Bestest Friend I could
have ever been blessed with
XXV.
Though busy with construction
I suppose it wouldn't hurt to break—
say what's been occupying my mind
lately - a passage from the Bible
Those who live in glass houses
should not throw stones
Don't hold me to that;
I've never been religious
nor scholarly, but I digress
I do subscribe to the notion
Honesty is the best policy
striving for transparency
knowing that ultimately
depending on who is [s]trolling
through the neighborhood
there may still be questions
regarding what I am really about
perceptions I'm this or that
rocks in hand at the ready to
take me out-
none of which concerns me;
I'm neither image
or self conscious, so
take me at face value
take me to task
take your best shot
or
take a hike;
go play in the street
My time is better spent
shoring up this interior
with the fine balancing act
of having as few partitions
as possible for full disclosure
yet plenty of wall space for
framing of what brings me joy
and of course
all that aforementioned
glass
Eyes are the windows to the soul
Quite the idiom savant today, aren't I?
These windows will be eyes into mine
but don't be surprised if you find
them shut with the shades drawn
I only allow genuine spirits
who are likewise open books
access accross my threshhold
the doors of which are unlocked
to only one individual who is
welcome to enter without knocking
and making herself at home
You might know her name by now
As for everyone else
unless extended an invitation
I prefer the peace and quiet
of a long awaited solitude
so in the meantime
take me on faith
as if I was a born-again goodly
Christian in-tent during his revival
in so many words
KEEP OFF THE LAWN
XXVI.
I have to be vigilant with self
reminders that while Change is
a journey from Point A to Point B
it can be a slow transformation
to the Point that those afflicted
with impatience can't See
any noticeable differences
moment to moment when daily
progress is that of a single brick
added here to the chimney or
shingle there upon roof top
or differences unnoticeable
occurring below surfaces in
manner of white blood cell offensive
soldiering en route towards infection
reclaiming lost hills of Health
conquered under seige of faltering
belief
I began this challenge[d]
years ago after meeting Ahavati—
she being an integral component
of my restructuring — the missing rib
bone in a framework providing balance
necessary
that I thoroughly lacked
often cause for bringing construction
grinding to halt out of frustration—
hands thrown up in the air;
as many excuses muttered
as I could muster
A house is never really finished
being built once started—
same as a poem
but without the roof
much like that which is
erected upon the sand
it becomes a-wash-out
in thunders of the next
storm rolling through
Reality is what you make it
with or without justifications
without or with guidance
and beloved ones
In so many words
I've made it
this far with the beam
she is holding me up
XXVII.
Today, I put the hammer down
and left working on my new house
in the dust for a while
It's one of those days when everything
is sliding sideways, spinning out of control
and drinking early seems a sensible
remedy
Sometimes, I will—
anything to slam the brakes on
retreading the past now
rear view mirrored
Alcohol ( in moderation )
either helps me stay focused
between lines, kept to script
or puts me to sleep at the wheel—
preventing the grinding of my gears
over yesteryear's roadblocks
and that's always good thing
because I know addiction;
once you cruise down unpleasant
avenues — it's difficult to find reverse
Having burned my fair sharecropper's
worth of dollar bills in puffed Winston,
Marlboro and home-rolled Dresden
tobacco from age sixteen to forty
it took me at least a year
the old fashioned route
to quit not quitting
The more time lapsed between
cigarettes — the easier it got
until I completely forgot
I was a smoker
And I have one every now
and then, but for the most part?
Repulsive
no different than the mouthful
of beer I spit out at a picnic
when I was five years old
or its odor lingering in aluminum
cans ditched along the roadside
collecting rain and beetles
How wretched!
And that's what stubborn realities
you want to leave behind are like—
awful poems penning you
( as much as you pen them )
into cells with sentences for life
leaving a bad taste in your mouth
while you continue reciting them
because it seems justified
If you are to become hooked on
anything, revisiting it daily
please let it be a wonderful
thought
In so many words
pardon me
for choosing to think
I'm in a happier place
XXVIII.
It's very easy to lose your way
traveling in what you think
is the right direction
Assumption often is
the road not taken
you didn't know existed
because you were to busy
making a [byp]ass of yourself
And just imagining being
at Point B instantly puts you
exactly where you want to be—
at the heart of the matter
Sounding too much like
New Age chatter?
Moving on then ...
I've never been one to sketch
purely from imagination
Through a desire to create
pencil drawings better resembling
photographs, I developed a system
that kept my sight fixated on the
chosen image I intended to draw
as opposed to relying on generic
notions you would find in
HOW TO manuals
because I've lacked focus
throughout my entire life
one way or another
and drawing what you see
with your eyes requires
discipline
Or maybe I have that backwards
lacked discipline ...
... requires focus
Regardless, when drawing
assuming is a recipe for
a lot of erasing
or Do-Overs
but at this Point A of my life
I'll gladly start from scratch
and do it right this time
by being myself for a change
which is how I ended up meeting
Ahavati, who accepts me as I am
same as I accept her as she is
In so many words
sometimes you need to get lost
in order to find your way around
It also helps to find a kind soul
who can give you direction
29/30
[ NaPo 2020 ] In So Many Words
XXIX.
When utter clutter
and noise I've struggled with
becomes unbearable, I take shelter
from the psychological stormfront
in my metaphorical
never-to-be-finished
lodging;
muchly a work in progress
as I am
There will be days
when head aches for relief
as will to continue construction
is overly whelmed with
emotional override to plant
the White Flag of Surrender
in some figmented phantom's
ass, snap the pole off
and parade about waving it
in a tantrum of frustration
but I know better now—
the grip of old beliefs
have loosened; their invalidity
apparent with increased
infrequency
Instead, I'm at the ready
copper ground rod equipped
charging the maelstrom
from atop Mount Olympus
with thighs thundering;
a Zeus — lightning javelin in hand
hauled back to strike down
gloomy doomy skies
with spaciously roomy
sunny pleasant musings
of All That Is in this Universe
that brings me joy—
most notably her smiling
delighted as Calliope reading
this April kaleidoscope offering
in so many words ...
XXX.
Sadly, we've reached April's end
with hardly a brand new adventure
begun in this rather grand
testamonial to a special person
unlike any I've ever known
about how I felt alone
to being on the mend
with my origin
Source;
I've been at this for three years
since we met
She says it speaks more
about me than her;
I concur
and yet
when God shuts a door
He opens a window;
when a window is shut
He swings open a door
I deadbolted every entrance
nailed the windows to sill
and hid on the floor
so He opened a looking glass
by which I got to know
myself and the Universe
through a woman whom I regard
as the Bestest Friend forEver
I could have gained in the process
of which I hope, this text
reflects kindly of
And as I do my damnedest
to be myself moreso these days
living in moment-Us ways
while looking forward
to an exciting, wondrous
future different from what
I'm acccustomed to being
written
In so many words
I Love her
and THAT will never change
to be continued
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