I wanted to prove to myself,
I had nothing to prove to you.
I wanted to show the world,
As opposed to merely a few.
Nothing from nothing leaves nothing,
Totaling a zero sum game.
A completely wasted effort,
By any other name.
If you discount the sins of omission,
disregard the ones done with glee,
Add up the missed opportunities,
We're pretty much even you see.
Now if you'll excuse my fast exit,
Hello and then I am gone.
I'll call when I get where I'm going,
Most likely from hither and yon.
2 Comments
I try to live like it's all all working.
I try to believe it's all all working. I was told this by a teacher I trust. He's no longer with us, but I still trust. I think I'm left with guarding the treasure. It takes real effort in days like these. Every snot-nosed bastard thinks he has the right to wipe his beak on the sleeve of anything sacred and good. There are mothers out there that will be required to answer for the poor upbringing of so many brats. (Don't get me started on the sins of the fathers.) Because we suddenly have an abundance of jackals. It might be time to thin the herd. But it's all all working. We have had it too good for too long. We need a good dose of bad manners, contempt, and runaway entitlement to get to the place where the stranger rides into town and slaps the town bully senseless. And all the Angels sing: "Hallelujah!" But that same teacher also said: "You can't get to satisfaction from complaint. Anytime you have a complaint, you can find the place where you abdicated responsibility." Ouch! So I best be sure my own nose is clean. In the meantime, I lead the monks-sworn-to-vows-of-silence at evening vespers in another round of affirmations: It's All All Working. It's All All Working. It's All All Working. |
j. david gray
Using a pen, a sharp tongue, and a sense of humor. Archives
October 2017
Categories |