I break my fears, into shards that
gleam like diamond spears and like
some fucked up Bucaneer, I charge,
head-down, at the concrete spheres
of my own folly.
The spheres shatter against my
stone stubborn will and then clatter
like bones down the staircase of my life.
But it's not all strife, this life.
Although I shout loud and act fierce
it's only because I attempt to pierce the
veil that pulls tight across the face of
my shadow. It's been a mad show you know,
with sunny intervals and dancing gals and
straight bourboun chasers to ease the flow...
But you know... I'm glad though..
So...
I disengage my rage and then
spit out a disconnected age of verses
stolen from pages, written by sages past.
I heat the gold of their wisdom. I reverse
the alchemy. I melt it down into liquid lead
and then spread it thick upon the bread of
my dead dreams.
But then I swallow this sandwich whole!
I digest it! I absorb it! I transform it!
I filter it through my own ideas about
'How Things Are' before I forgot
what they were?!
And as my mind mulls over these
empty transparencies; these
projected rejections; these
subjective reflections; these
awkward inconsistencies:
My heart listens in.
My Heart.
She sings so sweetly and it fits quite
neatly with my occasional need for
neat beats and sweet beatings.
'Mind how you treat things', She says.
'Mind how you treat things and remember - don't worry,
there's no need to struggle, there's no need to hurry.
Keep your eyes on the sun as you walk from the moon
and take courage my boy for I'll see you soon,
but until that day comes - you must dig your well deep;
Your freedom's not cheap;
Don't let your self sleep;
Don't let your self sleep:
Don't - Let - Your - Self - Sleep.'
When I look within, I hear this..
So I slow my pace. I soften my glare. I put down my sticks and stones.
No concrete spheres. No diamond shards. No sound of shattered bones.
And although the cries of "Bulldog!" linger in the playground of my head,
I keep my prayer wheel spinning and I let my mantra spread.
And in the chaos left behind? I plant seeds of Rise and Shine
and I watch, as the windows open, in the dark rooms of my mind.
"Who Am I To Judge?" by Wordy Reborn - April 2007