Who am I if I don’t have the energy to be who I want to be.
Applied focus and engagement is an important step in having the energy it takes to be a parent.
How many times have I not had the energy enough to have the patience to listen?
(fuzzy keyboard droning.)
I saw myself finally,
I was really high,
(looping guitar riff.)
I watched from the sky
draping the atmosphere
like a weather balloon
I saw my story;
an American TV reality drama
And I’m the one (strumming acoustic guitar.)
who played the fool, (female vocalists.) played the fool played the foo-ool, he played the fool.
( unaccompanied.) and how do you come back down from this,
from this life lived with remiss.
(looping acoustic guitar.)
Well, I saw myself beneath a patch of bitter grey,
where everything seemed in dismay,
and I began to laugh,
it’s hard to take yourself seriously, when you’re only as big as a pinhead.
He played the foo-hool, played the fool.
life from up here can get pretty strange,
everything gets rearranged (female vocalists humming.) I let myself go further on the tether.
(looping guitar, acoustic strum, harmonize.)
Up here in the stratosphere, I feel just like a feather,
No ignorance, no pain, not even shame.
(musical interlude, tempo mezzo.)
It’s about then I realize I’m completely outta my head
and I put all introspection to bed.
Just like that I come back down, falling on the ground,
nothing is clear, except misery and fear.
Now all I can do is continue to live my story,
even if it means being stuck
in an American reality TV drama.
First let me apologize for my poor attempt at turning this into a song. I had it in my head, but realize that it would not sound the same in yours. Although I will admit I do like this about poetry, or art in general, that its subjective, hit or miss, however it makes the act of writing feel like it’s all for naught.
Either way I’ve ruined the art of poetry either through my lack of music notation, or my inability to relate the rhythm through silence (pause) and word. I realized in writing this that I need to learn musical notation much better in order to pull this off the way I want and so consider this just practice.
thanks so much for your patience and of course for reading!
Here on earth
we’re spinning ’round
Oh whoa ho
sometimes I catch myself
and everything goes streaming
by this is where I see
I’m a part of it.
which can’t be touched
We’re spinning ’round
into the endless mirror chasm
Oh whoa ho-o
back into myself
the mirroring of images.
Stuck on a loop
it keeps repeating
when I stop
it’s then I hear the sound.
Can’t stop me now.
Oh whoa-oh ho
Can you feel the flow?
it brings you closer
to the hole
inside the mirror.
I talked a lot on our way up the 6,500 ft peak. I talked and taught until I realized that the mountain said more than I ever could. The wind through the pines and birch, rushing water from a distance, the bird’s song, our shoes on the dirt trail, the clouds, the sky, sun breaks, light mist in our face, trickling streams running across the trail, the struggle to climb and keep climbing, the silence in between laughter. I wasn’t doing the teaching at all, my words were far inferior to that of the beginningless change of the forested mountain.
As foreigners, who’ve lost their way from home,
here to travel and explore,
To conquer and accomplish,
We found only exactly what we were looking for
A world of immediate wonder
Telling us that we are not foreign at all.
You sit in your suburban castle,
out of touch with reality.
Glued to your screens, life is such a hassle.
Maintain your ego through the fallacy
of free will. Subscriptions, deadlines, and headlines. Rewind.
Disheveled hair and yesterdays sweats.
You’re too busy to be kind,
I’ll never learn to live like you, where life is just cleaning up one big mess
after another. Now I sit in a castle of my own,
make the coffee, fire off a few emails, drop the kids off at school.
An expansive, hollow place, hardly a home
just a place to breed while staking our claim.
Time passes us by,
in our castle in the sky.