RealityRevision

Blessings

I have trouble with the word blessings.
Always have.
Not even sure what the word really means, really.

I know when I feel happy, I feel blessed?
Like the time the earth stopped, and I had an idea, an idea I could feel.
Or the time I could speak, without regard for words.
I know when I feel like shit, I feel cursed?
Like those times I could only, only feel regret.
The times I felt guilty for not feeling blessed.

I think I do know this,
Blessings is a good word.
I word that should be free,
felt without obligation.

Hum

A bit I wrote exactly a year, to date ago. I left it unpublished, but now it resonates even more.

Hum

Signals in the sky suggests I can't live like this much any longer.

Hum of approaching wheels, seals my destruction.

Rush, Silence, Throbbing.

My daily resurrection.

here and humanity

it's a small crowd you know
it's the friends, strangers, and family
breathing sense and non-sense it to your life
the people that know you the best and those that don't
the brilliantly bright moon and the texture of grass beneath your bare feet

its a hopeful world we hear
keeps the embers glowing
keeps our belief in god alive
though there are days I loss all belief
however for all practical reasons I may be an atheist

searching for the rhythm in everything
throwing the ceiling back and singing to the sky
I'm content here, though I'm passing through
the thoughts in my mind and a bit of happiness in my eyes
as we experience the miracle of here and humanity

Peace is a flower

Peace is a flower... like a flower on a plant.

life seems like a toxic waste land void of green...void of beauty

careless actions those in the past... pollute the present. pollute the land

hazy clouds of doubt, hurt and memories and we keep tripping over sh-t others abandon

hope is humming sun is softly singing

the land will be renewed and not with some artificial miracle grown magic

a hope is humming a wind is whispering change a sun is softly singing

-a brain dump, while listening to the carpenters