An Alternate Reality

Archive for July, 2012

One o’clock in the Morning

It’s one o’clock in the morning
as I wait for the Advil to kick in.
One o’clock in the morning
as I contemplate my life. 

I have these bouts of sleeplessness
I don’t remember having in my youth. 

Maybe it’s my aging body.
Maybe it’s my over stimulated mind.
Maybe I’ve seen too much.
Maybe I think too much.

You’d think I’d be wiser by now.
You’d think I’d have learned
to let what will be, to be.

But, here I am, with my mind full
and my body restless –

 One fifteen and counting….


There are days I can handle the pressure.
There are days at the top of my game.
There are days when I can’t do a bad thing.
here are days when “Success” is my name.

 And then there are the meltdowns… 

On those days all I touch falls to ashes.
On those days everything goes to hell.
On those days all my fears and frustrations
drop me into a dark, stinking well. 

So I cry and I wail and I curse God.
And I stamp both my feet like a child.
And I swear I won’t ever be happy
’cause my life is just something reviled. 

But then…it passes.

And I start to see life in a new light
where the fear and frustration seem small.
And though I had suffered a meltdown
I survived, and that’s saying it all.

The Proverbial Wall

There are walls to hold things up
and walls to keep things out. 

There are walls we climb
and walls we bang our heads against. 

Walls can close in.
Walls can come crashing down. 

Athletes hit walls.
Ghosts walk through walls. 

We hang things on walls.
We run into walls.

Ancient architects built a wall through China and around Jericho.
Communists built a wall across Berlin. 

We wail at walls
and memorialize wars on walls. 

We build walls around our hearts.
We tear down walls in the name of freedom. 

Walls are symbols of our power.
Walls are keepers of our safety.

 But, mostly walls are just walls,
maybe brick, maybe stone, maybe paper and plywood.

 We bring to them what we will
and leave a little of ourselves upon them when we go.

What if dreams don’t matter and gods don’t care

What if dreams don’t matter and gods don’t care
Do we live our lives in quiet despair
Do chaos and anarchy reign everywhere
Are our lives so dull and tired? 

Without direction do we find
that then we lack the peace of mind
we need to embrace humankind
and all that that requires? 

Then, dreams must matter and gods must care
so we can risk and we can care
and grow beyond the things we dare,
to live a life inspired!

On the Verge

There is this pain,
     this yearning,
        this, something, on the verge of revelation. 
It is an ache,
     a stretching
        beyond understanding. 
A thought?
     An insight?
        A discovery?
     Almost...and’s gone...
        like a Braxton Hicks contraction.
Alas, I guess this new something
     is not quite ready
          to be born.

Oh, for the love of God!

The Universe is so amazing,
Stars and space in miracles unfolding,
even the blooming of a leaf,
even the workings of the human ear.

That should be enough proof.
But I stubbornly refuse
To let myself be amazed,
To let myself be immersed.

What am I waiting for?
What am I looking for?
What will it take
for me to feel truly loved?


For waking up each morning
For sleeping every night
For quiet, sunlit afternoons
For skies of bright starlight

For dear friends that I treasure
For folks I’d rather not
For all the good that happens
For that which I forgot

For everything that ever was
For all things that will be
For every joy and sorrow
For these are part of me

For miracles and beauty
For ugliness, indeed
For all opposing contrasts
For gaining and for need

In gratitude I name them
I never thought I might
but as A. Pope has stated
“Whatever is, is right”.