“Broken/Obsession”

dreams of delusion 

ideas from beyond  

notions all yesterday  

there’s no right

trading comfort in

every second wasted

hope is falsifiable  

rationalizing from irrationality  

life portrayed fiction  

chain linked lies

 no peace within

 

IMAGE.JPG

   “...Italian frico breakfast” 

reconnecting fraid ends

piecing together tomorrow  

marginalizing the details

rejoicing from spirit  

exhausting demented intentions  

fusing dislocated honesty

 embracing hearts desire 

forgetting turbulent discrepancies  

petition for dedication  

acknowledge true struggle  

mention said vulnerability  

 

 

IMAGE.JPG

 “...Artisan Corned Beef” 

 deliver your best

volatile outcomes reflect  

possessed by gratitude 

driven from purpose  

anticipation through development  

 clinched by nostalgia 

soothed from sensational  

 tendered for conformity 

pasted as reformation  

seen over experience  

lived beyond peace

 

IMAGE.JPG

  “...Hawk Moth”  

 

 

 

 

 

 

  #poetry 

“4/Mile...(cont.)”

Being the eldest of the siblings, my attempts to reconcile this abandonment by Dad rested on my shoulders to lead the way. It falls under the unwritten responsibility guidelines for the older brother/sister expectations. This is the point of entry for the aforementioned step family. Whenever Dad left, he not only moved out of the house, but vacated his role in our lives. We seldom ever heard from him, and almost never saw him. Sadly, this was an extension of the previous few years prior to his bolting from the house. He had already used his work as the excuse to stop coming to my football games, and spending nearly every weekend away. The time he did spend at home was only to recover from his drinking binges. As bad as all this sounds, he was still my Dad, and I wanted him to love me and be proud. He had moved away to a town about two hours from where we lived, and met someone willing to tolerate his broken shit. My senior year of high school he invited me and one of my friends over to go duck hunting. This was my first chance to overcome all of that empty space left from his departure of my everyday life. This was also the fusion point for the people who recently died. 

 

New beginnings are everyone’s opportunity to embrace beneficial change. That is if one views their life as a developing story. Dad lived in a constant state of discontent over his past. His search for acceptance from a world he felt cramped into left him frustrated with the facade it required. He bore his authenticity for his beliefs with each and every action of his behavior. He believed his standards were the normal for the internal turmoil he struggled with. This struggle spilled over into every relationship he ever encountered. It started with his authoritarian father, who managed the demons of his horrific childhood, by oppressively dealing with Dad’s rebellious objectivity. All Dad ever wanted was someone, that would take him for face value, given he fought for that identity his entire life. This quest for belonging created some tricky inner personal relationships between Dad and those around him. Questioning his motives only created conflict and barriers to his well hidden vulnerabilities. He withstood 16 years of attempted conformity with mom, but never truly filled the role he was portraying. The new wife however, didn’t require any real adaptations from him. As long as there was booze and cigarettes at the house, she would conform to whatever Dad would dish out. He was not the abusive type, but their common ground was tied together by drunken reminiscing of their self proclaimed fucked up lives. He was a college educated engineer for Southwestern Bell, and she was a country girl from rural Arkansas. Being the children of this dysfunctional matchup, well left a vacuum with regards to meaningful connections. Tolerance for the situation in hopes of being a part of your Dad’s life was the only driving factor in any of this. Absent of that, there was nothing to build a lifelong connection around. Suffice to say, after his death everyone reverted to their natural directions. News of the deaths of two people, who should have been important to me, failed to register any real emotional response. The fact it’s a nonissue is sad for me to accept...

“Important/People”

No one ever explained to me as a child about how love works. It was trial by fire as my emotions lead me through my childhood and headlong into adolescence. That lead me down a path as an adult, that created many teaching moments for later in life. Even, if it lead to some heartache and tribulations along the way. I write this now, because I do have a genuine appreciation for the people in my life, not only in the present, but the one's scattered across the landscape of the journey as well. I'm not sure one can be told about something as unique as love, and have any meaningful understanding We pick up on the examples set forth before us as we identify with how it appears in those around us, and how that makes us feel. We fantasize about the romantic versions we see on the television (...or via our streaming service today) or read about in the novels. This gives us clues, but not experiential insight. Trial and error is the only game in town for becoming comfortably familiar with the most overwhelming emotional experience of human existence. Attempting to second guess the decisions we put into constructing the opportunity to draw from this participation is fruitless. Anticipating an outcome just because it suits our vision is equally as delusional. What we’re left with is the reality that love takes practice and a shit ton of diligent work, with zero promises for success. It truly is a leap of faith by anyone attempting the dive. 

 

DDF1F855-2BA5-49A7-A1D0-D6EA6BC293A4.JPG

  “Mini Pearl...” 

I say all of this to get to a deeper more profound introspection of my path to this moment. At some epic moment, I began to view my life for what it is, and not for what it isn’t or could have been. This changes the lens for how you view everything. The relevance of people in my life is correlated to the depth of how we are connected. True meaningful relationships require the aforementioned work, thus identifying all connections with the same magnitude becomes overwhelming. Circumstances come into play, and dedication of time to any relationship sets the magnitude of that particular connection. The neglected connections fade to their places beneath the others. The fresh exciting ones belay our focus. The richest most fulfilling ones lean upon our every free thought. Budgeting of the proper amount of attention for each is the lifelong challenge we face. I suppose we should hope to allow enough of ourselves to reach everyone in our lives, but being fully present whenever we’re around anyone who matters, and not neglecting those, who don’t stand before us each and every day is the ultimate success. Realizing we spen an hour of every day eating, and several additional hours thinking about eating each day. To go with thoughts about our work, household responsibility, and don’t forget vacation. Our recognition of others is squeezed into small compartments of functional excess. Almost collateral baggage to life’s rat race. 

 

IMAGE.JPG

   “...the cajun”

Savor each and every encounter you have with all the gusto you can muster. They all affect us somehow, and managing the benefits while minimizing the detriment is all there is for housekeeping of our experience. We are all born emotional messes, and without refining our ability to shape ourselves, we languish in the minutia such existence entails.

 

 

  #connection