Defining the undefined one post at a time.
If you sit
With the boredom
Accept it
Something more
Meaningful
Will come
The best moments
In life
Are not on a daily to do list
Life is light
Take joy in
Lists lock in your life
Your present
Becomes a chore
Possibility is cut off
When you are always rushing
Towards the completion of
The next task
I have been getting
Far too much done
These days
When you get
A new cell phone
Number
It does not work
Both ways
The first rule of
Abundance
You must give
Before you receive
Two decades of always
Waiting
Waiting for my time to come
Waiting for my point to be made
Even when I finished talking
My conversation would continue internally
“What to say?”
“What to say?”
“What to say?”
“Got IT”
“Hold It”
“Hold It”
“My Turn!”
When that didn’t work
1. I would use another example, metaphor, or analogy to make my point and prove that my logic was sound.
2. In my head I would rationalize that the other person was not listening to me
“Are they listening to me?”
3. They must be too stupid to follow my train of thought.
“Idiot”
During “my” conversations
Being heard was of utmost importance
So significant
That I never truly listened at all
One of my gifts
Is best served cold
If you inhale it
Your brain will freeze
If you let it linger
It will melt
Sticking to everything
It touches
If you use the wooden stick
Provided to you
I hope you receive splinters
If you use a spoon
I pray your tongue freezes to it
I can dish out 3 scoops
Of rocky road
Before you even realized that
You got served
Like a diabetic entrepreneur
Ice cream truck driver
Only a single taste
Of my own medicine
Stops me in my moose tracks
Leaving my rotted teeth trembling
So I have closed up shop
Leading to the death of a salesman and
The birth of a gentleman
I didn’t know
It then
But
Looking
Back
I’ll never
Forget
An evening during the 90s
When my younger brother and I
Took our dog for a walk
Passing beautiful familiar homes
Of our tranquil neighborhood
New Hampshire suburb
Through snickers I to explained to him
How gay my friends looked
When they kissed their mothers
Thank God
He did not take me too seriously
Can I see all the poor people raise their hands!
Can I see all the middle class people raise their hands!
Can I see all the rich people raise their hands!
Why isn’t anyone raising their hand?
Why can’t we proudly own our social privileges?
Why are social struggles easier to talk about?
Well, it’s simple:
No one wants to claim their social privilege
I am privileged. I am white, heterosexual, and Protestant
I would like to share my feelings with you tonight.
Privilege is
Discriminating, blending in, or celebrating
Whites renounce race, heterosexuals renounce sexuality, and everyone renounces class
So differences, similarities, and assumptions remain in the closet
And only come out during rants and in social science text books.
Privilege is
Denying, accepting, or educating
Privileged people find it pointless to discuss social issues
Because they think it does not directly concern them
It makes them feel uncomfortable, guilty, and cocky
So minorities pick up the slack by becoming experts of
Race relations, sexual rights, and civil liberties
By justifying and defending their positions
Privilege is
Scoffing, staying silent, or confronting
This in turn reinforces the majority to stay out of the conversation
Because we can’t relate and we don’t want to offend anyone
So we stay quite and remain ignorant to the plight of others.
Privilege is
Not having to write a poem like this.
I recall
Therefore
I regret
I suppose
Therefore
I suffer
I think
Therefore
I toil
Release
Start living
Transcend
Take out a pair of imaginary scissors
Cut out a rectangle in front of your face
No matter what happens
This space is yours
Before your eyes rest upon anything
It must first look through this space
This space provides a
Natural buffer from all events
This space is free from judgment
This space can bring awareness and
Relativity to all actions
This space is infinite
Appreciate the nothingness of this space
It will provide you comfort
You are looking for
Two separate circles
Connected
Balanced
Two becomes one
Equal
Together on a path
Peak
Valley
Peak
The circle is reformed
Longing to grow
Slow my mind…
L E T I T S P I L L !
The ink from the pen
as the words do fill
The PAGE1
The SAGE2
Interconnection of all
Classified by society (no matter how small)
Words change everything
from friend to lover till death due us part
Napoleon said, “Just follow your heart.”
So relax. Don’t get so deep.
Focus on breathing
and tell my mind to sleep.
1 A page or page boy is a traditionally young male servant.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Page (servant)
2 A wise man; a man of gravity and wisdom; especially, a man venerable for years, and of sound judgment and prudence; a grave philosopher; wise
en.wiktionary.org/wiki/sage