Endship?

     Into every relationship - be it romantic or best friends - there will be a series of moments over time where a given decision effects the entire vantage point of the friendship. There is a specific moment we all feel a gravity in a given moment; a thoughtfulness is required that normal life does not. It's hard not to be afraid of these moments, when we sense that a connection might be irreparably repaired if we don't "do the right thing". There are many right things you can do. And thus, stress arises.

     For the second time in two years (fifteen total), my best friend and I got into an immensely passionate debate that tested us both mentally and emotionally. Our initial foray was last year, when election tensions were scorching the airways and the streets. It also became a part of our interactions and the consequences were menacing. At one pint, we didn't talk for three days after an abrupt end to a chaotic phonecall. I didn't know if I was ever going to talk to my best friend after so many treasured moments of bad movies, boobs and being. We came back together, but it felt like our friendship, for the first time ever, had a "Do not enter sign". Our friendship survived, but I always felt a subtle loss in the ability to be open.

     Tonight, this conversation began anew. It was largely challenging, but at one certain moment my friend told me we should stop the discussion. The moment to had arisen. If I accepted the shutdown of the conversation, I know it would have created a searing scar the second time around. Right or wrong, I pressed forward to find some common ground in our divergent opinions. If best friends can't find agreement, what hope does the nation have? Three hours later, we had found common ground, revealed even more about ourselves by being intellectually honest and had praised our lives, our memories, and our friendship. We sacrificed sleep for a great discussion and the renewed confidence that all is well. He could have shut me down, but he came back in to the discussion to find a common ground. I think he recognized The gravitas of the moment. I am blessed to have this person to call friend.

Ah. So?

     As I sit here, watching sports with a hazy head; it occurs to me that I'm the Everyman. And I'm okay with that; is that bad? Must I strive to be he best at anything? Can't I just be a good husband and a great friend - but an average worker and thinker? Why must I quantify myself at all? Alongside the discovery of my maturity as well, am I again becoming? If so, come wit my Dollface!! It might be close to Rome!

What?

How did it happen?

How did it pass me by?

Looking at my dream

Written in a language 

That is familiar,

Yet foreign somehow.

From where I stand

I can find one conclusion:

I became mature 

When I was not looking.

Laundry

I haven't been this down in a while

Saddened by another's angst

Dwelling on the loneliness of omission 

Eluded by sleep while stoically musing...

As I've never been this comfortable

Happy in the fact that I am okay

With you being upset at me for a night

At once not needing you to forgive me

Because I am finally at peace in knowing

I have no worry you might ever go,

Leaving me in a state of dismay.

I'm sad that you're not happy with me

But I'm happy that you've proven to me

That you are STILL the best choice I ever made.

But Who's Counting?

You are a treasure my love.
A million whispered words
Lost to the clock's aging chords;
A thousand sideways glances
Expressing intimate intent;
A hundred harried moments
Where a smile spawns clarity;
A dozen firsts sprinkled
Across the power of perception;
And that one singular second
When I looked at you and found me.

My Darling,

As I sit here in a moment of (non-)clarity

I recognize I don't need symbolism

To accompany us upon our journey

Into the distant purple forever

Lying upon a hazy mountain

Cold and foggy and fascinating.

As I look upon the bamboo

That is dying now due to age

The one I brought for you

In my humble attempt

At associating us with durability.

A first attempt at "I love you.

Rifling through the memory box

I am flooded with one wave and again

Of timeless smiles hoisted upon

Emotional connect to foreign ideals.

Mary a one feels like an end

Just a buffet of simple beginnings.

I appreciate the passing of the moments

Alongside you experiencing the world

For it is creating a tapestry of thrills

That can only find creation with a 

Lifetime of forgotten re-memories.

Thank you for the select seconds

Where you stopped being aware

That there was anyone else

On the planet at that place and time.

Pergolas and metallicas and romantica-s.

Thank you for being you 

When you are with me.

The New Slavery

      When you look at the mass chaos we see every night on the news, it seems like I have heard and seen of things like this before. An elite littered with business owners holding down their workers. Men with money taking women at their whim based on money and power. The angry majority lashing at toward one another in an attempt to climb the social strata. The government is in place, the landowners have changed, but as the populace continues to destroy itself, we feed into the ultimate misery that we all feel.

The Time Draws Near

These past six weeks have been fantastic

We have lived, we have learned

We have found a mellow peace.

Airplanes,Planetaruims and Apple

You were there for each step of the way.

A thank you doesn't seem quite enough

To relate my unending amount of joy

Trapped in each of our experiences.

As we head back toward the "Reality Monster"

Don't let go of tours of my homestead

Or tales woven from the fabric of my youth

Or looking out into a hurricane at my side.

Take these joys along with you 

And know that there will be many more

I love you.

Are Your Legs Tired?

The throbbing base begins its ascent

As the subtle modesty descends

Your costume labels you unholy

But my desire's akin to sin

The guitar's emotional lament

Underlies your sultry swagger

Your eyes lie lifeless from apathy

Innocence torn from you long ago

Your body rides the bombastic beat

Your raven haired bun framing your face

Your top obscuring my sole purpose

As I anticipate your bare skin

Your overwhelming confidence

Excites my unbridled craving

You execute your dance of desire

As I offer tokens of attention

You slither towards my trembling frame

Breasts undulating on their own dance

Gather my mind to a single sight

Our eyes come together in purpose

My hope to peek behind the curtain

Your talent is to drain me for your gain

With the invitation of your body

And my anticipation rising

The choatic lights slide across your skin 

As you writhe, mirroring my fantasy

An almost embarrassing display

Creates an atmosphere of silence

Taken with your interpretation

Charisma; difficult to explain

Alas, impossible to forget

The crescendo is within your grasp

As the audience provides support

Ever faster; a whirling dervish

Heel stomps, pole bouncing, acrobatics

You sacrifice the stage to your sweat

The song trails off into the distance

Your strategic sonata gives way

To the holistic hum of the crowd

One last glance; the ringmaster bellows

You collect your bounty for beauty

You gather your costume once again

Subduing your sex-soaked persona 

To mingle with the yearning masses 

Seeking one who lusts to touch the dream

Filling their rejection with deceit

Caressing the object desired

In the hopes of a moments solace

Descend into their desperation

Remembering that "All the worlds a stage"

Offer them your hollowed out body

Tuck your soul away for safe keeping

Giving them their song for your "success"

Taking your characterization

To dance through their minds every day 

Don't Know What

My Son,

     I want to thank you for spending the past month with me and providing me a look at the wonderful young man you are becoming. I spent all day busy, but as soon as I got back to our hotel room, I realized how much I miss you. Always know that your Dad is thinking about you and everything I can do to make you happy and prepare you for the world. We adults do everything we can to make your life happy, but only you will be able to choose exactly what you want to be as a grown up. I am your father and I will always do everything I can to make you happy that I am your Dad. I love you.

Love, Daddy and Mama J

You Can Go Home Again

       It just won't be the same home you remember. I am reminded of Ancient Greek philosopher Hericlitis when he said that, "You can never step in the same river twice". That is true both from the perspective of a changing self (I am not the same man or experiences who left four years ago), as well as the ever changing landscapes of our 'hometowns'. There is so much familiarity in the overarching basics, but subtle changes are still a tad surprising and curious. It feels like what you remember, but your memory points out the subtle nuances to remind us it isn't.

      Friendships can be like this as well. As you move through time, many of the original interests shared become less vital as we mature and take our relationships into new ground as we discover it. Jobs, marriage, housing, politics, religion and even sports can be surpassed. If both friends are in tune enough to make the move, it can create a whole new playbox for them to create new castles and share.  If not, then you get those friendships that feel hollow when two people are together - the faces and the words are the same, but the passion for growing and becoming together can feel stilted over crab cakes and another annual meeting to discuss where everyone at work (or school or any social club) has done in the meantime. It's a theatre of the absurd for the delight of no one - a cause in reconciliation just because one party doesn't want to say, "It's enough. Let's leave with the good memories in tact".

     In both cases it's the subtle obligation to appreciate - much like visiting a funeral  or a dying relative. That sense of obligation without desire; a familiarity that feels appropriate if not desired. So many of us caught up in trying to horde those things that made us what we 'are', all while we change before our very own eyes. Like disco music and "Ice, Ice Baby", these environments stir our emotions and transport us to another time; another place - where our memories tell us were simpler; more 'us' (as long as no one else finds out). A friendship should be a commitment to understanding and accepting; not an obligation "for old times sake". People can be a part of our life for a time or throughout time, and we mustn't be afraid to let them be - while always being on guard to help if the time requires it.

My Last Will and Test Of Man

 While not legally binding, it is certainly emotionally so:

To my wife, I love my undying impassioned thankfulness. If ever sadness should stop by, take any random moment - from front step forevers to subtle surprise silliness in so many forms. Leave my body behind, for now my self travels at your hip in essence.

To my boy, I leave the world - as best I could unravel it for you. Only remember what I have said, as you get older it will unveil its current mysteries to you. There are so easy lessons only time can explain. Beyond all, be the person you were meant to be, but understand the world does not owe you to concern itself or agree with your combinations.

To my friends, I leave devotion that has not passed (though I may have). I hope your moments with me were complete and full - all I ever sought was to make my presence make a difference. Deep conversations or midnight runs to wal-mart; for that moment I hope there was nowhere you'd rather be.

To those who knew me in passing, I can only assume I left you something. For just a moment, I showed you who I was - and then you were able to take that with you. If you only gave the experience one more thought than it required, then it was worthwhile.

To the world, I leave my words. Hope, overcoming, becoming, rationality. In a lifetime of civility, I have watched so many of these things ripped from our vocabulary - perverted into catchphrases and sarcasms. I will cheer from the sidelines that the equality that comes from Logic will find its way into the futures yet found.

To myself, I give the thanks of knowing I did all I could with this form. I encountered the efficacy of eternity, I remained true to experiencing as many different things as I could, I found the self-respect to have the strength to stay true to my word, and I loved - many ways and many days. I have no regrets. 

A Novel Concept

     A world where people are free to find true love. People are built to live out "ever after". Friends to be relied on; a society of kindness and prosperity. What a book it would be! The twist ending - there's no dark underbelly! And if you provide someone the reason to do so, you can actually live the dream....

Don't Stare At It Too Hard

The morning sky hangs damp, heavy and gray...

     It is a desire many of us have - the desire to watch a young life form before us. It burns within us, the sight of a giggling baby is enough to make us covet in a way unhealthy. A void created where none was needed; a new trophy that morphed into a purpose. Craving ensue.

When the spectacular sunlight serates the sullen sky...

      Then you have one - a son or daughter; nephew or niece; best friends baby or a neighbor. You warmest this little creature that was once so limited sprouting into greater tomorrow's: milestones mounted; logical lessons and the hope of honor. Like any of our creations, we subconsciously plant a sliver of us into them in an attempt to relive our youth. Make things better this time.

When once more the mists rise to provide a depressant...

     But it can be so hard. If child rearing was the stock market, we would never escape our Great Depression. For every eventual success, there are a thousand time of frustration and fear that seep into the joists of your mind. What if he never learns to hold a fork? Did my parents tell me how to open a soda can a thousand times? In watching them grow, we step back every time and feel a little of how they are feeling staring at this dominant figure in the sky.

And yet, the light shines through in the lavender light display...

     Every victory is compared against your own milestones. You just pray every night that you can shove enough knowledge into them that they are thrust upon the world equipped.just once before you die, you want them to look at you and say, "I see why you taught me not to lie. I'm happy. Thank you for raising me.

The night falls, and things that are now gone still linger and are not forgotten...

How Can I Love You More?

I've given you everything I have to offer

My personality; my adoration; my honesty

You've promised me your nineties

In return for my unwavering commitment

We all have ghosts in the emotional machine

But the point of coupling is in a "couple".

I've left my dark in the distant abyss

Shown you my flaws and my shortcomings

In my own search for your eternal companionship.

The hardest part of discovering a dream

Is the devastation left in its chaotic chasm.

I'm not a base societal machination

Taught how to push the buttons for success

I am a defunct automaton of avarice

Who found in you a land where I could revive

Loving without shame and remorse

A festive pinnacle of individuality unchained.

Turn away from the norms of 'civility'

And join me in the path least traveled -

Love me without regard or regret.

I will hand you a butterfly from within

A sentient sunbeam of my intentions.

I can't love you any more than I do in action

So please do whatever it takes to meet me at the end.

The Alpha and the Omega

     He's nine ears old, but I still have to look in on him each night. The day he was born, I understood what it meant to give myself over to someone, much like the Knights long passed. As I held him in my arms at 6:15 in the morning after three hours sleep, I could only whisper, "I will do anything to give you a better life than I've had." His coos met with misty memories. A creation well made.

     She's two years my wife, but I still kiss her when I crawl in beside her each night. The day we got to know one another, I was ready to give myself to this woman, much like... (You know - date stuff!) As I held her in my arms (to her surprise), I could only tell her, "I will not betray you - this was more than friends". Her visage causing blurred vision. A wife well met.

Patience

      Is it maturity or madness that I now feel a day spent unconscious is a day wasted? How did I lose the subtle enjoyment of doing nothing at all for long periods of time? I spend barely motor time in my thoughts as in the distractions these days. I fight hard to maintain my ability to think, to reason - to do those things that are uniquely humanity. I can't be a mouth breather and still have a desire to something greater. Either I give up my motivation or my laziness. Reading is still a positive outlet, but I can even feel in those moments that I might be doing something "productive". I'm fighting myself for how I want to spend my time. My left and right hemisphere are dueling for control of my body...

Caught In A Sigh...

There are moments,

Moments I stand back

And revel at you.

You, who was waiting

When I found it to

Land in your yard.

It's those subtle slivers

That show thoughtfulness

Considering the absurd

And giggling with me.

A light of passage

That allowed me to

Become the 80's 

Song reference machine

I was always meant to be.

Once upon a rhyme,

A sad day was the norm -

But our infusion

Brought about 

Delicious delights,

A changing landscape,

And a simple rhythm.

Dance with me 

Into this thing called "wife"

And I promise to be yours

Forever.

And Now, In Your Main Event...

     It occurs to me that the action I consider "kissing ass" in my life is really just a press conference before big events. Self-congratulating, informative events that announce to everyone - especially those who would never know if not for a news outlet - exactly what will be presented when the time for action has arrived.

      'Selling oneself' is a talent that can be hard for some of us - at least me - and I just want my actions to speak louder than words. Archaic thought process, I know, but it really seems what I do would say everything about what i am capable doing. However, I can't change the system and am thus am responsible to learn how to play within it.

      I am currently interested in a promotion with my company, and the path to 'leveling up' goes through a process of selling managers on your accomplishments in place of them recognizing your hard work. This is the place we've found ourselves in - 'doing it' is secondary to proclaiming it. That's where I made the connection watching a live press conference just now. There's a wrestling event happening in Mexico in a few months, and as I watched (with no clue what was being said), a thought dawned on me that there fans would know what was coming, why go through the hassle of a 'presser'. To reach the average Joe, not to sell to the average fan. When I go to my managers and tell them about the strides I've been making, it feels dirty. Like a snake oil salesman. In my next attempt, I will try to frame it mentally as exposing one of them to parts of my day they don't know. Hopefully I won't feel so dirty.

       The process of growth can be uncomfortable, but is necessary in the evolution of the self. I will try to reframe my feeling on the process in order to reach the goal I am squared on until I reach it. Can that be so bad?

The Human Condition

      We are all so petty, degrading others in a race to prove our outright correctness. Why the hell can't we leave things alone anymore? For all of the 'progress' being spoken of, all I see is mayhem and discontent. Roving packs of rabid rioters causing chaps and hiding behind the lens. Every generation has its "the end is nigh" moment, but I don't believe that's where we are. However, the Civil War is not out of the question. Those who remember better times can only shake our heads and sigh.