180)
Today begins with a perfect number,
and dare I say it
despite the flaws,
this world is a perfect place,
and since I did say this,
then I have to say
that life is a beautiful thing.
Amen
We get lost sometimes,
or worried that we’ll
never touch the things we want the most.
Or perhaps we forget
the bigger picture
because we are caught up
in our own little turmoil
or lost in our own head
which is a dangerous place to be.
I keep hearing
the voice of old friends of mine
who used to tell things, like
“Don’t get caught up in your own thinking,”
or how my old friend Mitch used to tell me,
“Don’t play that movie out in your head.”
It’s no good.
Or in other words,
stay out of your own head, kid
you’re going to think yourself to death —
and trust me when I tell you:
This is good advice.
181)
What I want is not too much
and yet, what I want is no different
from what most people want,
which is to be happy and, to be fair,
I agree and I relate to the ideas
that say happiness can be elusive
at times.
But hey,
this is life,
and the bottom line is
I want to be happy.
That’s all.
I want to be happy,
as in satisfied
and quenched, or solved
and while I always want to learn
or grow and to seek more
or do more, I want to be clear
that my idea of “more” is not
contingent upon anything
other than this is my soul
looking to grow
and this is my heart
looking to explore.
Maybe I need another trip
down to good old New Mexico.
I could take another ride
through the dessert,
or I can go down and visit
the graves of the grandfather, David,
my brother’s namesake
whom I never met, and who is buried
next to my grandmother, Lulu-Nell.
whom I’ve only seen
a few times.
It is funny to think that
this is where my Mother comes from,
the south, and when she was young,
Mom responded
to her first and middle name.
which was Alice-Elaine, only
this was said with a southern drawl,
which had a certain pleasantry to it
if you ask me.
Maybe I could make
that pilgrimage again, and go back
to that old church
called Chimayo
which, if I am being honest,
my last trip was not all too successful —
but I can say that I do appreciate
a ride through the desert,
moving fast in a convertible,
of course,
with the top down, the sun bright
the music is loud and the wind
blows through my hair
and above me, ah yes –
overhead, the sky is a version of blue
that stands out like nothing else
I have ever seen before.
No one needs to be around
nor does anyone need to know
the reason why
I make this pilgrimage nor does anyone
need to know or understand
why I have returned for the healing soil
which is found in the back of old Chimayo.
By the way,
the word Chimayo
means superior red flaking stone
or “hill of Tsi Mayoh”
I still have some of the dirt
from my last trip
which is sort of red . . .
It is said that the dirt
can heal the sick.
And I am sick too—
or, better yet, I am no more
or less sick than the next person.
182)
I don’t want anything so different
from anyone else.
Like I said,
I want to be happy,
and I am fine to resign to the fact
that perhaps I have been looking
in the wrong places
or that perhaps
my happiness has been right here,
right in front of me,
this entire time.
I want to be happy,
no different from anyone else,
I assume.
Then again,
I have no idea
what happiness looks like to someone else
nor can I see the world
through the lens of your eyes,
nor can I feel the passion
of human touch
from your fingertips.
My love is like the desert
filled with unknown and unexplored
and undiscovered beauties
like the flowers
that no one sees, to which,
I often wonder about unseen beauty.
I mean, is it still beautiful?
And if so,
what’s the sense
of having something beautiful
if there’s no one else
to share it with?
I know who I am,
and I know who I’m not.
I know that my edges appear rough
and that my way can be abrupt
or, in all honesty, I know that
I can be impatient but at the same time;
that’s not me — at least
not entirely.
I’m like most out here,
too worried and petrified
that perhaps I’m not good enough
to get what I want
or that what I want,
might not be meant for me
and in the end, I am afraid to die
unfulfilled
and wasted.
For now though,
I will allow myself to settle
for this moment–
The day is about to begin
and the sun is on its way.
I don’t know what the day has planned for me
yet . . .
But, maybe there’s a surprise
coming my way, or if not,
maybe I’ll book a trip
and say hello to the folks
in good old New Mexico.
I don’t mind the flight times
or the hours in the sky.
I think this adds a sense of
poetic justice
if you know what I mean.
The Written Addiction 