Eight years I ran
Full tilt
Nose to stone,
Brain taxed, straining
Through breakups and falls
It was the paper that mattered
The program
Then, that spring came
More than a hundred and twenty earned
And that at a three
Married
In debt
Sick, incurably
Still made it to the finish line
Waiting in line, standing
Hot, sweating in black
Square hat holding in the heat
Halfway in, I stumbled and fell
But I was gonna walk
Even if I had to crawl
I made it sound like a joke
But, I was serious
I would have crossed the stage
With legs and hands bleeding
Eighteen years since my last chance
I was not missing this one
Nothing ans no one
would have stopped me
I think you knew
I think you felt the same
You earned it as much as I had
And I was proud to be there with you
Friday, March 28, 2014
Friday, March 21, 2014
Hiding away
A year has gone by, almost
Trying to hide
Like a child in a game
Breathing quiet in a stuffy closet
Friends racing around
Hoping both to be found
and not
The only sound the blood rushing
Trying not to laugh
not to cry out
not to give away where one is
Yet craving the moment the door opens
And 'It' is standing there, laughing
Saying, "Found you!"
But this is a different game
We are adults now, with lives
And I am not hiding
from my friends, or my love
I am not in a closet, under a table, behind the bed
I am not crouched, waiting to be discovered
Because I am hiding
not from others
but from the world itself
and myself
Trying to hide
Like a child in a game
Breathing quiet in a stuffy closet
Friends racing around
Hoping both to be found
and not
The only sound the blood rushing
Trying not to laugh
not to cry out
not to give away where one is
Yet craving the moment the door opens
And 'It' is standing there, laughing
Saying, "Found you!"
But this is a different game
We are adults now, with lives
And I am not hiding
from my friends, or my love
I am not in a closet, under a table, behind the bed
I am not crouched, waiting to be discovered
Because I am hiding
not from others
but from the world itself
and myself
Wednesday, March 19, 2014
Tugboat
Sometimes, I need a tugboat.
I am a cruise ship,
One prop dead, dragging in the water,
other at no more than half speed
So many docks, so many rocks
I am a cruise ship,
One prop dead, dragging in the water,
other at no more than half speed
So many docks, so many rocks
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Snarl
A pup, brought up to value love
Fed on seeing it in the eyes
Watered with the tenderness inherent
Bedded down and comfortable
Yet when the pup grew strong and tall,
Going out to seek the familiar warmth
Found one after another
Spiked collar, tight against the skin
Inward curling spikes to train the pup
Food infested with worms
Foul water
And a cold bed
Over time, the pup
Began to become accustomed
to the evil world
Living in it, but not becoming it
A snarl on the lips
Even bared teeth from time to time
But never a bite.
Never a rip to the throat
Until, one day, after so many abuses
One found the pup, skinny
tired
with a snarl upon his lips
She present him with good food
clean water
warm bedding
and more
After so much abuse
The pup did not recognize
the feast before him
Seeing worms where there were no worms
Even in the face of kindness,
secretly feared the spiked collar
he knew would come
But hope had not be beaten from him
And so, he existed on the knifes edge
Waiting to fall to abuse or to the desperate hope
of love and kindness
Seeing the stink of the first, and the aroma of the second
Years upon years
Good food, good water
Yet, the fear remained
The snarl softened, but did not leave
A sickness grew
Within him
And the kindness she showed
He finally let the snarl fade
Even now, the fear echos
Through his mind
But, for once,
His heart does not want to run.
Fed on seeing it in the eyes
Watered with the tenderness inherent
Bedded down and comfortable
Yet when the pup grew strong and tall,
Going out to seek the familiar warmth
Found one after another
Spiked collar, tight against the skin
Inward curling spikes to train the pup
Food infested with worms
Foul water
And a cold bed
Over time, the pup
Began to become accustomed
to the evil world
Living in it, but not becoming it
A snarl on the lips
Even bared teeth from time to time
But never a bite.
Never a rip to the throat
Until, one day, after so many abuses
One found the pup, skinny
tired
with a snarl upon his lips
She present him with good food
clean water
warm bedding
and more
After so much abuse
The pup did not recognize
the feast before him
Seeing worms where there were no worms
Even in the face of kindness,
secretly feared the spiked collar
he knew would come
But hope had not be beaten from him
And so, he existed on the knifes edge
Waiting to fall to abuse or to the desperate hope
of love and kindness
Seeing the stink of the first, and the aroma of the second
Years upon years
Good food, good water
Yet, the fear remained
The snarl softened, but did not leave
A sickness grew
Within him
And the kindness she showed
He finally let the snarl fade
Even now, the fear echos
Through his mind
But, for once,
His heart does not want to run.
Friday, March 7, 2014
Frozen
Being frozen can be comfortable, if cold
Being aware of the outside flowing past
Can't touch, don't want to
Safe and static
Until the fingers ache again to move, to do
The muscles beg to move again, despite the cold comfort
Oh, but the inertia, moving and not
Punch a hole or an immovable post
Being aware of the outside flowing past
Can't touch, don't want to
Safe and static
Until the fingers ache again to move, to do
The muscles beg to move again, despite the cold comfort
Oh, but the inertia, moving and not
Punch a hole or an immovable post
Peacemaker
The peacemaker stands
With all the various ribbons from all the various directions
They tug and pull, some with sharp edges
his hands seep with wounds, some fresh, some not
the ribbons are metal and silk
Sometimes, the peacemaker
is held steady by the pull
And sometimes
he has to pull back to keep from falling over
But what of the ribbons he lets go?
With all the various ribbons from all the various directions
They tug and pull, some with sharp edges
his hands seep with wounds, some fresh, some not
the ribbons are metal and silk
Sometimes, the peacemaker
is held steady by the pull
And sometimes
he has to pull back to keep from falling over
But what of the ribbons he lets go?
Sunday, March 2, 2014
The Perniciousness
I'd like to take a moment to talk about a subject that has been on my mind for most of my life.
I was raised Presbyterian, with a relaxed view of God and religion, a God that was a kindly father figure, someone I could turn to in times of crisis and need. God was not a tyrant to be feared, but someone who cared about me, personally.
He was just strangely quiet. Well, he did speak from time to time, offering advice when I focused on a problem.
At ten, the first chink in my faith was forged when I could control the "gifts of the spirit" my church was practicing.
At eleven, I had a friend who was a Satanist. I told her I would pray for her, and she just laughed.
At seventeen, I met a woman who did not worship my god. I didn't quite get it, but it opened a door in my mind.
At twenty, I found myself on the streets of Seattle. I went to a church, and felt like I was in the wrong place. It was the last time I went to church at my own choice. I began to look for something else.
At thirty, after spending a few years as a pagan priest, I began to seriously examine my beliefs, ejecting all that I could not back up with evidence or logic. So, I found I had become an atheist.
I spent several years very angry at religion and the religious. But, after a year as an admin on a "Atheist Versus Theist" debate group, I decided to really think about the nature of religion. Starting from the position that religion was from Man, I began to ask the big question, "Why?
Why religion? Where did it come from? Sure, there was the explanation that it was true, but what if it wasn't?
The easiest thing was to try and explain the origin of the idea of God. One thing I learned in examining human constructs is to look at it as if I was observing a single human, and in humans, our behavior is governed by a variety of things.
Part of the evolution of humans is an ancient drive within our branch of life that causes the young to trust their parents. Tell a three year old that you have their nose and they will believe you, even though the evidence directly contradicts it. We look upon out parents when we are between three and seven as if they are divine, supermen and women who can do no wrong. It takes quite a bit for this drive to be defeated. Even those who have been sexually abused by a parent have to fight against their natures to testify.
As adults, we begin to see that our parents are fallible, they are human. But that deep desire remains, the desire to have an infallible super-parent looking out for us. Combine that with the evolved trait of finding patterns and the human drive to anthropomorphize the world in order to understand it, and you have the basis of religion.
Add to that the big black wall we are all hurtling towards called death, and our fear drives us to try and build something in that dark unknown. We don't know what is beyond death, and probably cannot know, and therefore it is the ultimate fear. What better way to deal with this than to attach it to our created super-parent? They can save us from the darkness, so that is where we put them.
We hate being out of control, and the world is inherently out of control. The super-parent can handle that, too.
Other people are mean. Our super-parent can punish them for us. Oh, but if we are bad, the super-parent will punish us, too. Someone, thousands of years ago, realized that, and so figured there must be an escape clause. Enter the concept of forgiveness., of sacrifice for atonement, of the need for someone to save us from our super-parent. Well, why can't our super-parent save us from our super-parent?
So, we are left with a clear chain of reasoning and human nature pointing at the human source of religion. Every time religion has been challenged by internal issues, it has evolved into something that seems to fit better. However, like any misconception, the longer it is used, the more footwork is required to keep it from falling over. The more patches, the more solutions to the issue appear. There are close to 40,000 versions of Christianity, for example. Islam claims to only have a few, but I would hazard a guess that even within the various branches are wide divisions between various philosophies.
In the end, what makes more sense? That we fill in the gaps of what we don't understand or that we fear with the spackle we call God, or that all of the inconsistencies within the various religions are just misconceptions?
I was raised Presbyterian, with a relaxed view of God and religion, a God that was a kindly father figure, someone I could turn to in times of crisis and need. God was not a tyrant to be feared, but someone who cared about me, personally.
He was just strangely quiet. Well, he did speak from time to time, offering advice when I focused on a problem.
At ten, the first chink in my faith was forged when I could control the "gifts of the spirit" my church was practicing.
At eleven, I had a friend who was a Satanist. I told her I would pray for her, and she just laughed.
At seventeen, I met a woman who did not worship my god. I didn't quite get it, but it opened a door in my mind.
At twenty, I found myself on the streets of Seattle. I went to a church, and felt like I was in the wrong place. It was the last time I went to church at my own choice. I began to look for something else.
At thirty, after spending a few years as a pagan priest, I began to seriously examine my beliefs, ejecting all that I could not back up with evidence or logic. So, I found I had become an atheist.
I spent several years very angry at religion and the religious. But, after a year as an admin on a "Atheist Versus Theist" debate group, I decided to really think about the nature of religion. Starting from the position that religion was from Man, I began to ask the big question, "Why?
Why religion? Where did it come from? Sure, there was the explanation that it was true, but what if it wasn't?
The easiest thing was to try and explain the origin of the idea of God. One thing I learned in examining human constructs is to look at it as if I was observing a single human, and in humans, our behavior is governed by a variety of things.
Part of the evolution of humans is an ancient drive within our branch of life that causes the young to trust their parents. Tell a three year old that you have their nose and they will believe you, even though the evidence directly contradicts it. We look upon out parents when we are between three and seven as if they are divine, supermen and women who can do no wrong. It takes quite a bit for this drive to be defeated. Even those who have been sexually abused by a parent have to fight against their natures to testify.
As adults, we begin to see that our parents are fallible, they are human. But that deep desire remains, the desire to have an infallible super-parent looking out for us. Combine that with the evolved trait of finding patterns and the human drive to anthropomorphize the world in order to understand it, and you have the basis of religion.
Add to that the big black wall we are all hurtling towards called death, and our fear drives us to try and build something in that dark unknown. We don't know what is beyond death, and probably cannot know, and therefore it is the ultimate fear. What better way to deal with this than to attach it to our created super-parent? They can save us from the darkness, so that is where we put them.
We hate being out of control, and the world is inherently out of control. The super-parent can handle that, too.
Other people are mean. Our super-parent can punish them for us. Oh, but if we are bad, the super-parent will punish us, too. Someone, thousands of years ago, realized that, and so figured there must be an escape clause. Enter the concept of forgiveness., of sacrifice for atonement, of the need for someone to save us from our super-parent. Well, why can't our super-parent save us from our super-parent?
So, we are left with a clear chain of reasoning and human nature pointing at the human source of religion. Every time religion has been challenged by internal issues, it has evolved into something that seems to fit better. However, like any misconception, the longer it is used, the more footwork is required to keep it from falling over. The more patches, the more solutions to the issue appear. There are close to 40,000 versions of Christianity, for example. Islam claims to only have a few, but I would hazard a guess that even within the various branches are wide divisions between various philosophies.
In the end, what makes more sense? That we fill in the gaps of what we don't understand or that we fear with the spackle we call God, or that all of the inconsistencies within the various religions are just misconceptions?
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