Just a Thought, Just Because – An Ode to an Old Poet (Thanks Jim)

I want to believe – You know?
Not because “I have to”
Or because “I should”
or because there’s a doctor out there
standing in the hallway
talking about hope
with a helpful diagnosis, a clipboard in hand,
white coat, stethoscope around the neck,
a pocket protector with a few pens
poking upwards from the top pocket.

I want to believe
Not because there’s someone at a podium,
standing before a congregation,
reminding everyone about this thing called damnation
I want to be good too.
helpful or
like Carroll said in his poem:
“I just want to be pure.”

Wouldn’t that be nice?
Unaffected, or better yet
not infected
and unobjectionable

I want to be like that child again
able to believe in the healing powers of a magic blanket
or free to feel the daydream possibilities
which lead to the beliefs
that anything’s possible.

“Little kids shoot Marbles,” said Jim.
This was a fad before my time
But thanks, Jim

I think I see your point –
I see the picture too
Claro, que si . . .
It’s as bright as daylight
after a long midnight

And just like that –
I can begin



I want to believe . . .
I want to do this because
what I see
is something that I see too often.

I see the world we live in.
I see the scraps on the ground
and the scrapes on the knees
of our so-called society
but hey, no one likes the sting of the alcohol
when Moms wipe it clean and say
it has to hurt
if its to heal.

I see people around me,
losing themselves
or losing their mind
or to their rivals
and to their trivial insanities.

I see us all, spiraling
slipping away
or sinking into the subterranean skin
which we call “self”

I see people losing to this, drowning in it,
comparing, pointing fingers,
blaming, shaming and, of course,
searching for accountability
to better understand the compilations
of their own regret.

I want to believe though,
that we can overcome it
I want to believe
like a child believes in their grandparents lullabies
I want to believe in the inherent goodness
I want to believe in others
and be heartwarming.
I want to defy my insides
which, at times,
opposes my best efforts
to be good . . . 

Maybe this is my example of the yin and yang
Do you understand?
The fight within
the good vs evil

I want to dispose of my selfishness
to the point where the word no longer exists.
Just to be free of it
Not to worry –
Not to wonder –
Not to care who is honest
or who is not because, to me,
I would be the best me possible
and to do this, the essence of my life
would multiply beyond infinity and, of course,
nothing could ever hurt me,
as if to be free of sin or otherwise absolved.

I’ll be good from now on, Mom
I promise.
I’ll be better
I’ll learn to share, to take turns,
to hold hands, play nice,
enjoy and not worry
or consider the problems
or have to look back
or check over my shoulder
just to see if my yesterday
is still on my trail


I am not wallowing or sinking
but only drifting in the shadows
while dancing in between the lights.
I have not begun nor ended but in the middle
I am free to worship the sun
and feel the warmth or embrace her,
like the love in my heart.

I have this . . .

I am, in a sense, drifting like a remnant in the sea,
searching for the shoreline which I choose to call my destiny
I want to find this
to tell my story, like an old piece of driftwood
that is part of something
so much bigger.

I have mystery.
I have moments of solace.
I have mountains of joy
and valleys of desperation
which only serve to make me human.

Oh, and by the way,
I love it when the moon hangs around to watch the daybreak.
To me, it’s just the changing of the guards
it’s a relief after a long shift on the clock.
One compliments the other.
Both divide the day and night.
And me, I am only a witness
hoping to take this in . . .
so I can enjoy the day


I see the riddles of self-importance.
I see the games they play too
which I thought I chose to sit this one out,
yet I think at times,
we fall in so deeply
that we are unaware of our involvements. 

I see the competition is on again.
I see the need to keep up with the Jones’
I see how this keeps growing
I see the need for validation
and this is at a high point now too, which is fine.

I like validation.
Of course, it’s best when this comes from within –
otherwise, validation is only like a drug
with a high that only lasts so long
Eventually, the high goes away
and all that’s left is a habit
or a need to keep yourself
from feeling low

Or worthless


There was a young woman, up and coming,
she was . . . pretty as ever too,
beautiful, like a queen –
or at least, she was – soon to be
(Let’s see?)

She was a diva of sorts,
of course, perfect like a picture,
beaming in a sense
that the commercialized versions of beauty
would applaud her every move
like, “Bravo!”

She was on the verge of new stardom
Up and coming, like I said
Or, was it this?
She was self-aware or perhaps self-absorbed.

Maybe self-important is better or more to the point,
she was consumed by the language of self –
sinking deeper into that subterranean skin
(like I was saying)
Only, one night . . . she barked at the wrong dog;
however, and in the interim between the unknown
and the upcoming stardom,
she barked at the wrong dog
about her self importance
But this dog didn’t care

“Do you know who I am?”
and then . . . quickly 
She learned what it meant
to be bit
and brought back down to size.

Quick tip – Never yell “Do you know who I am?”
at someone pointing a gun at you.

Also, never overestimate your importance
or your ability to appeal.
At the same time,
never underestimate your ability
to understand your surroundings –

This just might keep you alive.


I want to believe.
I want to bury “the old”
and let go . . .
I say this parenthetically
because the meaning behind all of this
is grand and vast

I want to believe
I want to see a movie
and be amazed
like they were back in the days of Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers
in heaven or as he sang:

Heaven, I’m in heaven
And my heart beats so
that I can hardly speak
And I seem to find the happiness I seek
When we’re out together,
dancing cheek to cheek

Good Morning, Friday
We’ve been waiting for you . . .

“Did you bring it?”
Yeah, I think so.

But we’ll have to share the wealth
because I promised my Mom
that I would play it fair
from here on in

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