Why Such Accolades?

Why heap upon me such undeserved accolades in shades of praise,

When this man is but man, and just as imperfect in all his ways?

Does this human deserve such high appraisal at the heavenly table?

His life is not stable enough to enable him to live to such standards,

And when you truly know him he will show you how he panders

To the pantheon like a prawn drawn from brackish waters unadorned,

Then he will be what he really, truly is as no more than flesh and blood.



From which side are you looking at the mountain?
Are you drinking water from a different fountain?
Because you and I do not quite see eye to eye,
But we both cry that we’re right (in our own sight)
And this causes quite a plight that might lead us
To fisticuffs if we persist in insisting on our way
Day after day, chiefly when there’s no diplomacy
As we boastfully continue raving to hopefully win
An argument not even worth the victory,
Which is contradictory to our deeply felt feelings,
Especially as we’re reeling from the latest punch!
Might it be possible for us to change perspective?
Just for one moment, irrespective of our feelings?
Might it be possible for us to see a different point
Of view in lieu of our own, to see the other side
Of the mountain? To drink of the other fountain?
Then we might find out it was all a matter of . . .

Suffering So Little . . . Really

My body feels like it is surging with electricity,
My lower back racked in continuing spasticity,
My tonicity confused by an inner complexity,
Could it be toxicity that so disturbs my felicity?
So very weary and yet too leery of physicians;
Yet such an awesome autumn day to blossom
In mind and spirit despite the bind of the body;
And shall I complain of pain? There is no gain;
Some whining words will only drive me insane
And nothing change within my physical range;
No, ice is nice on my back and lack of medicine
Is the sad position of many in my ill condition,
And so many in such situations far, far worse!
Oh, and age could account for this awful stage,
But how many more are older and yet bolder
Than I? And with this, shall I die and fly away?
No, no . . . This is not the day; here shall I stay
And make my way as best I can . . . thankfully!

Battlefield of the Mind

Unkind thoughts loose in the air
Find their way to my open mind
To hook n’ snare their fair share
Of my conscience in a distortion
Of the otherwise bland neutrality
Of reality in lethality to my heart,
Sucking the vitality of my body,
Laying me tired and uninspired,
All while the sun finely shines,
And birds sing and the breeze
Brings me a comforting promise
Of autumn with her very gentle,
Cooler ways and colorful days;
So why can I not keep my mind
In peace or at least quietly sleep?
It’s like a battlefield of thought
With the war fought in my mind,
And my soul struggles to unbind
Itself from the negativity by way
Of positive creativity and real
Festivity of genuinely good life!

Crack of the Head

You chew through the wall of sanity
To try to fit in with an insane world;
Is crazy the norm? Bizarre the new form?
Is upside down, inside out now the way
Of the day? Has all sense gone astray?
You see the moon rise in the morning
So soon after night as some warning:
Our sun has retired, all light expired,
And all of the stars have taken flight,
And the planets have changed places
Altered their faces, slowed their paces
In the new glow of a wild cosmic show,
And you wonder if you’re the only one
Who’s noticed as you blunder through
An altogether outrageous existence
In persistent search of just one church
Of reality only to hear the banshee
Scream by the black tree as she holds
In her gnarled left hand the latchkey
To the cathedral with the upside-down
Steeple . . . and you now have to wonder
If cracking your head, landing you in bed
Has anything to do with the new world
To which you are bound all around you?
Or perhaps the fall was all you needed
In order to notice how bogus the cosmos
Was in which you thought you lived . . . ?

same amount of water, but the glass is half-full

glasshalfIt may be possible to have “neutral” thoughts – calculations or bare statements of fact, for example – but most can probably be described as being positive or negative, optimistic or pessimistic. So if I am asked whether I see the proverbial glass as “half full” or “half empty,” maybe I do not in fact change the reality of how much water is in the glass, but I can determine my attitude, my perception of that reality.

If I choose to focus upon the beautiful and  honorable, and whatever is good and pure and admirable, and I orient myself to love, hope, faith and fortitude,  then I have centered upon and permeated my whole life with light, life and goodness.  And why should I desire anything other or less than this, especially when it remains within my power to benefit myself to such an extraordinary degree?

This is not looking at life and the world through “rose-colored glasses.” This is consciously choosing an exacting, unrelenting perspective that will not let go of the good, or throw faith to the wind and hope to the dung-heap. It is a well-known fact that many men and women have survived unthinkable atrocities, such as prison camps, precisely because they held on to such an outlook and kept precisely this sort of mindset while other around them curled up and died.

I am no Pollyanna. I simply choose to be soberly optimistic, reasonably positive, and live my very real life in this very real world from this vantage point rather than the other; and to the degree I am able to accomplish this laudable goal, I am happy and at peace. May the same be true for you as well, whomever you are, whatever your particular circumstances. And blessings to you and yours!

“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.”
–  Abraham Lincoln

“A particular train of thought persisted in, be it good or bad, cannot fail to produce its results on the character and circumstances.”
–  James Allen

“For as he thinks in his heart, so is he.”
–  From the Proverbs of Solomon (23.7)