Top of the Mount
I Need Your Love
Some folks can accept accolades with aplomb. They carry it with dignity and become a shining light – or not. It would seem to me that when I was younger yet much older than today, I craved the spotlight and got it, good or bad. Perhaps today I am more comfortable for any light I may have to be shone through another. But I had a moment of pride the other day that I shared with my sons. “Get over it Dad, no one cares if you are on an ego trip”. “Maybe you should be, now kick the ball”. And our beat goes on.
A strange feeling came to pass
One that did not seem to last
How lucky it is to others
That they can call us Brothers
How self centered and conceited
But I give out what is needed
I love without any condition
With you and me no contrition
Call me up with problems deep
In your life my love will seep
Not my doing I do suppose
Advice maybe I propose
Oh how prideful I became
But now all back to the same
Not my calling to rise above
Just return to unvarnished love
We must wonder, I may think
Who I have saved from the brink
My son says don’t you be dumb
Think of all you have become
Shrinks say I self-deprecate
This my friends seem to hate
Maybe I shy in a normal way
Keep vainglory off and at bay
But my Sensai says it straight
To your goodness you must relate
Hiding your flame beneath a pot
Will not help those who cannot
Oh what an ego I must possess
Better to sit still in ease recess
Do not judge me all the bitter
I will try to do better
Puffing my chest out is not my thing
But perhaps a light for others bring
For these things I can’t reconcile
Why self-loathing all the while
To toot my own horn I cannot do
It must rest and be subdued
Friends and family send love my way
Maybe I can accept it some distant day
Some were given gift of love
And others prophesy from above
Perhaps sleep is warranted now
To find answers maybe somehow
We are Having Fun Here
In our small hamlet of our home we refuse to do well. We check up on each other. If one of us is not thriving we do some synergism and get the Joy-Gene working again. Call that a huge group hug. Then we tackle the issue. Italian/Irish second generation and Vietnamese first generation things get rough and tumble. My ego gets smashed to hell and then back for more. Life is good when there is love.
So the beauty of the most basic poem kind of gives us pause. Kind of a “time out” from life. I have many mentors in the area of poetry/prose and I hope I never equal their work. What fun would it be without a goal to attempt, a mountain to climb or a situation to overcome? My mentors set the bar mighty high. Thank you to them.
A depressed and sad feeling hit me today
One I could not melt away
Some days are like that I suppose
It is then I turn to prose
No one every taught me the rules of life
Conflict here and there and full of strife
Seems to me that our body flows
In and out and nobody knows
Yesterday on top of the world
Today emotions all in a whirl
A strange feeling hit me today
That it is fine in old way
If I were happy all of my day
For what then there is to pray
Up and down like a big jet plane
Perhaps that is what proves I’m not insane
The best ride that could be around
Is the one where you touch not the ground
Over here and over there and there
It is all to the good my life does declare
Smooth sailing is a fine fine term
Truth be told it makes me squirm
Give something that I can overcome
And I will show you so much fun
Someone told me that this was childish poetry. Just rhyming is not poetry. It needs a perfect rhythm and flow and structure just so. So I thought to myself that this may be true. And so I wrote one that the critic could not do. How fun is that.
Things Are Looking UP
Can You Believe It?
I Am Looking For a Canary
Let Winter in Summer too
Let Fall in Springtime
Fallen angels are never dead
Reason not know it is said
Eerie sounds are there to hear
Each of us demons to fear
Simple sights look as though not there
Try as we might we cannot bear
You and I will be just fine and dandy
Like a child with hard rock candy
Eric does not care for form ;-)
Heat melts the mid day
But not of summer today
Heat just simply melts
So Western Haikus sandwiching an Acrostic Angels and seasons I reckon. Maybe seasons of our heart and not of the earth.
That last line in the Acrostic could be rejected by a snob. The Haikus perhaps do not have enough of a cut to the quick in it. Maybe the notion of freestyle really is and yet we steal the portfolios of the structured notions. Around here poetry is like cooking from scratch. Fine that the recipe calls for a teaspoon of cinnamon but I really like cinnamon so two it gets. My cooking, my rules. If you don’t like cinnamon go eat Joe’s apple pie.
But all of this about poetry is a faint. I am really talking about me. So self-centered. Get over it. I ain’t never met a rule that didn’t look better broken as I look back. Oh please do not get me wrong here. I love to make rules and you had better follow them ;-)
This article was broken up a whole lot. Cooking, working, bike riding, water fight, (thank goodness no chess) catch and etc. etc.
Funny thing came to pass. I realized that my writing reflects my life. I only get a couple of hours a day of solo time. If a critic said I was eclectic I would hug him and so would my son. Eclectic would be a suggestion of at least something compared to normalcy. That is a bump up from “out there crazy”.
I told my wife that if she is making me feel uncomfortable she must be uncomfortable. And then I dove onto the nearest safe place as the hand blew wind across my face. I still got that retreat down baby, shuck and jive. Come in and float like a butterfly but sting like a bee!
Let us just say goodbye with this.
Hold me closer as you can do
No I love you ever true
No not lovers in a certain way
Lovers of love every day
But I am looking for a snitch. Snitches get stitches. Someone reported that I violated that poetry laws.
I sure love this stuff. Does England have a 4th of July?