With reference to my last OBS Post, my daughter Amber tells me: “I like the funny ones better but I love everything you write.” I ask her if she thinks that I am just naturally funny? She says: 100%. So, there you go an obviously unbiased character tells me I am a hoot even though I never think of myself in those terms.
I was recently at the Saint Augustine poetry festival and an exciting time was had by all! So much talent reading their work and some very insightful panel discussions. Live poetry is like no other form of art. You must really see it and experience it firsthand to know exactly what I mean!
I have been offline for a bit balancing my life. Sometimes, you must take stock of your life, refit your directions, and master your goals. Some folks do it in January with the advent of the new year. Personally, I like to do it in March and April as I contemplate where I am going, and construct how am I going to get there.
It is the most appropriate thing to do this time of the year. And yes, I am talking about spring. Spring the Vernal Equinox, thought by many to be the finest time of the year. A time when love blooms. There are two moments in any given year when the sun is exactly over the equator and both day and night are of exactly even size. Thus vernal (spring, which can be traced all the way back to the Sanskrit vasantá in the spring, autumnal (obviously autumn, the end of summer and harvest time) and equinox (meaning equal night in Latin). Spring has sprung and we all appreciate and enjoy this renewal of life.
By the way a word about words: You know how much I love and how passionate about words, it really comes down to this. It is imperative to know the history of a word along with its definition, in order to get full understanding of the breath and strength of a word. Words have so much impact, especially today. You simply honor the words, by fully understanding them.
So that brings us to the ultimate gamble—the choice of identity and I am not referring to gender or religion or race. I am talking about you! A perfect time to segue into my poem fittingly entitled YOU!
You are a wonder
a maker of miracles
the essence of life
the moods that strike
are not you.
You are your own messiah
your own soul
you are it
not the aftermath
not the cargo.
You are truth
again and again
in spiritual splendor
not the shell
of one lifetime.
You are you
from a sacred shower
a faint halo.
The You I Remember
Why settle for anything but yourself? Our society seduces us to live up to so many different aspirations, we don’t know if we are coming and going. Information and disinformation collide in our universe. Grievances and complaints grow by leap and bound. Sometimes you must simply draw the line and say that’s it and disconnect from the worry and nerve-wracking explosions of others. Sometimes you just have to say I am me and not only is that good enough, but it is better than that. For you are a true spirit and have strengths and intelligence far beyond what we have been taught to believe. You have been empowered to have a great life. Chuck the shackles that others lay on you, get rid of the negative folks in your space and recover your grace and beauty. You don’t need to be harassed or taunted or anything. It is called SPRING CLEANING for a reason!
For as long as I can remember I’ve always wanted to be different, I hated the idea of being normal. I hated the idea of the status quo. I just wanted to be unique, be myself and not sit in conformity. I never wanted to be the same bowed down and shackled to a job I hated. NO, I wanted to be DIFFERENT!
I remember at the tender age of 12. Looking out at the adult world thinking that I did not want to have anything to do with it. If this is what being an adult is all about, then the heck with it. I wanted no part of it. I rejected what I perceived to be adulthood and never really grew up. Peter Pan was my best friend. Just before Shelley and I got married, my mother leaned over to her very conspiratorially and said: “You know he really is Peter Pan!”
I now this edition is a bit of a ramble but sometimes ya just gotta roll with it!
And what better way to end off this issue than with the wonderful Ruth B. and her lost boys.