Posted in Leaves on the Poet Tree (Poems)

Success (n.)

to not seek to possess

to be a man of largesse

to be capable of caress

to help others in distress

to not seek to impress

to be willing to confess

to offer redress

when i have transgressed

to not suppress

the need to express

to take time to process

and to decompress

to find the courage to profess

that i am a work in progress

to be steady in faithfulness

to bless

to resist unkindness

this then is my definition of success

more or less

Posted in Musings and Reflections

The Aging Artist Invisible

i awake from deep slumber with thoughts of yesterday’s sadness still raw in my heart and mind. the song break it down again comes to me here in the red light of a cold morning. the weight of what it means to be an aging artist invisible after years of work and where-what now to put my energy towards leaves me curled up in a ball. i have no answers. and yet there is something i think in not becoming overwhelmed by giant thoughts. break it down again. the big picture sometimes just gets bigger and bigger until it floods the senses and leaves me paralyzed by the unknown. break it down again. what are the bits and pieces of a satisfied life. what do i act on. no more sleepy dreaming. break it down again. this is more than success, ego, or legacy. i do not seek the spotlight, but i also am tired of toiling in the shadows. what is my forum. is it time for me to dim, or to burn bright with compassion, to fade into love for the other and leave my dying dreams behind. where can i find in me the beauty of decay.

Posted in Musings and Reflections

I know this is not where you expected to wind up, but I hope you’ll stick around for at least a little while and then stop by again.

Search engines are not omnipotent.

Gazing over this past year’s stats, I cannot help but wonder which posts were actually visited on purpose and which were a matter of mistaken identity, their stickiness catching the unwary flies on the web.

There are endless discussions and ideas about how to drive traffic to your site, what tags to use, how to create a fetching title, and so on. I’ve tried most if not all of them. I have been blogging for over 10 years. The number of followers has remained around the same. Readership and views has increased somewhat based on how much I write, maybe 25-30 views a day for a post.

The only thing viral about my blog is when I post about being sick.

It can be disheartening, especially when I see others much younger than I suddenly discovering and writing about topics I have been exploring for years unnoticed while they garner much glory, laud, and honor.

But comparison is a dead end street.

Who or what defines success, or for that matter, a meaningful post? I love sharing and want it to be just as meaningful to you, the reader. But if it isn’t, does it make it any less precious? Does what I write give me joy, and is that enough?

I am learning that with all of the forums available, there are so many options to share, so many voices seeking an ear, with really no rhyme or reason as to which voice suddenly grows louder at any given moment.

And here I am, one more voice clamoring to be heard.

I am not sure if I should go completely silent. That is always an option. Call it a day. Go back to filling loose leaf notebooks with scribblings. Gather them back into myself like precious friends. (Do I feel so disjointed and scattered because I have cast so much of myself out upon the web?)

Or is it just a matter of letting go of the ego and writing simply for the words’ sake, because I love to, and if it resonates with you then that is even more wonderful, right?

Honesty causes me to look deeply inside and wonder if I truly wish for more followers or if I am pointing others to the One to follow.

All very good things to ponder I think. So for now, I will write, and let the words fall where they may . . . midst weeds, thorns, or soil, hard or soft.

Posted in Musings and Reflections

Do You Speak My Languish?

I prefer the older definitions. They seem less negative, more nuanced.

(archaic)
pine with love or grief.
“she still languished after Richard”
(archaic)
assume or display a sentimentally tender or melancholy expression or tone.
“when a visitor comes in, she smiles and languishes”

This then is an ode to the languishing. It is a place where one has arrived to find broken dreams, unfinished projects, hoped for successes all for naught.

Mr. Hughes spoke of holding fast to dreams, and mine remain close. Yet, I still feel like a broken winged bird that cannot fly, confused, shot from the sky by the unrealized.

Perhaps the time for holding fast is done.

I wonder if languishing is simply another word for letting go.

I do not like this place.

I am afraid.

I do not want to be labeled lazy.

And yet action for action sake is “sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

The tendency is to move! move, damnit!

Who or what determines a life’s success?

Do I still have a good heart, as she told me long ago? Perhaps I will ask her that today.

As my tongue lies thick in my mouth, while I try to learn this new language of languish.

Posted in Leaves on the Poet Tree (Poems)

I Am the Found

I am the dog in the basement.
I am the waiting for their return.
I am the click of a key in the lock.
I am loyal love’s burn.

I am the kids on a trampoline.
I am the action for sheer joy.
I am a life with too high expectations.
I am the man who is a lost boy.

I am the dog and the children.
I am the jump and the coming down.
I am the tasting of another life.
I am the boy who has been found.

Posted in Leaves on the Poet Tree (Poems)

Existence is Futile

image

existence is futile
seize and resist
life liberty and
the pursuit of
happiness

if time is money
and money talks
then the poor must
be deaf to the
shout of the clock

jacob’s incline is not
the ladder of success
fiercely grasp the divine
lest the pilgrim regress

Posted in Songs and Spoken Word

Monday Monday Song #6 – A Bridge Big Enough

I live in terror that I will fail,
that those who do not understand
will be there in the end with their
I told you sos and plans for me.

Self-important people acting on assumptions
instead of looking for the true.
Is there a bridge big enough for the chasm
between me and you?

I live in fear that I will succeed,
that those who understand
will be there with me and I will
never realize that I am finally free (from)

Self-important people acting on assumptions
instead of looking for the true.
Is there a bridge big enough for the chasm
between me and you?

August 19, 1996