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Your life can improve

If you feel a mess
If you are depressed
If chaos rules the day
Perhaps you’d rather sleep it away

Play the lottery
For that quick fix
Four dollars
Buys a little hope

A magic bean
Will not fix
The problems
You have seen

Choose something small
Wake up, floss those teeth
Floss them all

Add another small task
Instead of stinking
Take a bath

Don’t let the bath
Replace the floss
Combine them together
To be a boss

Next day when you awake
Hit the floor
Eight pushups
Maybe more

These small tasks add up
Do a little more
And those huge tasks
Will shrink away

Day after day
Is how habits form
One day soon
You will wake up with tasks no more.

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Shelf Elf

An elf came down from the pole
To dance within your walls
Turning tricks in the night
Is it devious? Mischievous? Frightful?
Or a delight?

The elf rules are simple
You can look but you cannot touch
You can tip your elf
But it won’t change your luck

The elf when it comes
Leaves you more frustrated
Than before it came
And once the elf is done and gone
The glitter remains as evidence of your shame.

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In the end it doesn’t matter

I’d like to think I’ll be missed when I am gone

But I know that is wrong

Our time here is brief

And we are quickly forgotten

Stories will be told

And lore rewritten

Unable to correct or defend

From the grave

Our reputation cannot be saved

History that never happened

Words contrived

Will become our legacy

We are legend

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Communing with nature

When I was a child
I used to sit in the woods
I fell asleep in a tree
One time more than I probably should’ve
I’d awake slowly
Fifteen feet above the ground
Calm in the breeze
With no one around
My mind at peace
My life calm
Then I’d leave nature
To find everything wrong.


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The need for friends

I need to talk to someone
But I can think of no one to call
I’m not sure I even want to chat
I’d just like to know someone has my back
It’s very lonely in this crowded world
I have so many friends I haven’t seen in years
Would they listen to me discuss my fears
Or are they too caught up in their own woes
Busy, consumed in their lives
To be troubled by my troubles I keep inside
I bet they also need to talk to someone
I’d love to chat unfortunately I don’t have time
To call them back.
-DM 2022-03-09

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I chose an interesting path

A rope hung across a great crevasse
The sign read “Caution! No way back.
This path is treacherous.
Not for the weak of heart.”

I naively and boldly ventured onto the rope
The path behind me violently closed
I looked down into the ravine
I grew weak and shaky in the knees

Looking forward I found my balance
I was okay with my life’s new purpose
Put one foot forward and stay on the rope
I picked a path that was no joke

When I look too long behind me
The rope becomes extra shaky
When I look forward to the end
The rope initially stabilizes but shakes again

When I look down at my feet
I see my troubles down below and freeze
I think I can be on this rope no more
I become dizzy and fear a fall

But when I know where I am
And look not behind or down or too far ahead
I glance only slightly presently forward
Knowing it is safe to take that step and more

A calm washes over me
Now I walk steadily
And see the beauty all around
Despite the rope which rocks beneath my feet

From this vantage I see things others will never imagine
Adventures never shared
People would not believe if I dared
Tell the tales that I have known

Amazing sights I’ve seen upon this focused path
Walking dangerously over the crevasse
I’ve grown so much stronger day by day
So much I look forward to the steps I’ll make today

Yet sometimes I wish I could turn back
The start is so far behind me
And I cannot see the end ahead
Sometimes I grow weak and weary

And the rope begins to sway
I gamble a glance toward my feet
And note the tightrope has begun to fray
Will I find my end much sooner as the rope breaks away?

Sometimes the ground quakes and ripples the rope
Occasionally winged creatures try to knock me down
Some days the wind blows hard
Others days bring cold and fog

I’ve stood drenched in rain
I’ve bled on the rope but hid the pain
Snow has turned to ice upon the rope
Every challenge trying to throw me to the depths below

Through luck and stubbornness I’ve survived
And think I’m beginning to see the other side
Could it be I am coming to the end of my path?
Could I be at the end of my rope at last?

What lies ahead on the other side?
Another path? A crossroads?
A sign that says, “Go back, it was lie.”?
Will the ground be solid under my feet?

Will there be people there for me to greet?
Will I lie down and forever sleep?
Or will I find yet another adventure?
What path will I choose?

If I find another rope hung across a great crevasse
With a cautionary sign saying “turn back!”
Will I stay upon solid ground
Or naively and boldly walk the treacherous path I’ve found?

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Tears of a Parent aka Oh How I Cry

My children may never know
How many tears I shed for them
Tears of joy for their successes
Tears of sadness when they are down
Tears of regret for my mistakes
Tears of anguish at my shortcomings
Tears of frustration for lack of time
Tears of angst for their future
Tears of confusion when they do not listen
Tears of acknowledgment that they walk their own path
Tears of befuddlement for making the simple hard
Tears of acceptance for innocence lost
Tears of pride for the compliments they receive
Tears of satisfaction when they smile at their achievements
Tears of ecstasy seeing them grow into independent adults

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Is the fight right

Time is fleeting
In the metaphoric stream of life
Do we fight the current
Or go with the flow
You can push upstream
Or float down
Which way do you go
Depends upon your life goal
Is it the source
Which forces fight to deny You
Or is it the delta
You struggle to steer
So focused on the destination
We fail to see others in the stream
Sharing the same dream
Or are we all lemmings
Walking a path because we are told
At the beginning or perhaps end
Of life’s stream is the goal
The wise will take pause
And stand immobile
To be in the current
Current in the moment
And observe
The shores
The rocks
The fish
The trees
The others
Before we are too old.

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Here I sit
All locked up
Mentally deranged
And out of luck

Pondering all
That must be done
Thinking, thinking
Doing none

To banish
The stress
Think less

To decide
Which thing
To do

Is still
Much ado
About nothing

I turn
Off my mind
To think less
And do more

For doing
Is how
Things get done

Put my troubles
On the run
By thinking none
And doing all.

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"The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation. What is called resignation is confirmed desperation. From the desperate city you go into the desperate country, and have to console yourself with the bravery of minks and muskrats. A stereotyped but unconscious despair is concealed even under what are called the games and amusements of mankind. There is no play in them, for this comes after work. But it is a characteristic of wisdom not to do desperate things." -Henry David Thoreau

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A need to be numb

There’s a point in the night
A choice to be made
Power through
Or give up the fight

When the time comes
The brain turns foggy
And hides distracting thoughts
Creativity flows

But hesitate
If you slow
The fog turns solid
Hit a wall

Pass out now
Or pass out then
Both a loss
Neither a win

There’s a point in the night
A choice to be made
Sacrifice the wee hours
And give up the day

Whatever decision
The clock ticks
The night comes
You fade away.

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And it goes on

I died but I kept on living
To prevent others from suffering my fate.
The chore of living broke my resolve
I bear witness to my mistakes repeated
By those I swore to help.
Lambs to the slaughter
All I can do it watch
For I died but kept on living.
Life without spirit
Is nothing more than death without an end.
Coffins never closed
Bodies never decomposed
Zombies all around
On some grand purposeless walk-about.
From point a to b and back again
Always feeling the same thing.
No spark, no variety, no fire.
Passion gone
Buried with the deceased
Even though he still breathes.