This post-storm palette;
so outrageously orange,
salmon, scarlet, and sanguine…
~
Oddly, the same hues
that fly across his visage
when Hurricane Donald blows.
* I try not to finish the mondos I start with my poetic partner at mondosedoka.com but tonight I just could not help playing with the theme… sorry, mom!
Who knew
Sulu
Owned Hulu;
Did you?
Sometime’s there’s no pill
to quell the ills that plague us.
A stroll in nature
or a toil of passion
may be better medicine.
Beneath willow boughs
Stirring in an easy breeze
We’re a feast for fleas
Fate is unconcerned
with our petty preferences.
Smile and be glad.
In the course of my professional day, I spend many hours talking with, and more importantly, listening to people describe strongly held beliefs that are not rooted in any objective reality. Frequently, these people feel that they are superior to others, like myself, and therefore can not be understood by someone who is not equally superior. I hear people describe feelings of persecution that are not supported by observable facts. Sometimes they describe vast networks of conspirators who are struggling heroically to do them harm. I often find myself wracking my brain trying to follow a lengthy string of words looking for some thread of logic that holds together an incoherent collection of free flowing ideas; desperately looking for that one unifying idea that binds together an otherwise unrelated whirlwind of mental flotsam. I often feel profound sorrow when I reach the conclusion that no such thread or idea exists. Such is the nature of my day as a mental health clinician. Tonight I read the transcript of an interview what held many of these same characteristics.
To say that I am concerned would be an understatement of unimaginable proportions. May God have mercy on us all.
What is happiness?
Mysterious state of grace?
A choice that we make?
Artifact of diligence?
Something else altogether?
Their empty parchment,
Unsullied by pen nor ink,
Holds boundless meaning.
Or so learned scholars claim.
Readers remain skeptical.
In those hallowed halls,
speaking harsh truth to power
is a real career zugswang.
~
Given that climate,
heed “War Games” sage advice, “the
winning move is not to play”.
Battered tattered and torn,
This banner proudly stands,
A tribute to hope and love.
Has the bully learned
that the threatened may get tough
and protect themselves?
Transitory truth
Makes the journey… interesting;
Navigation sans compass.
“Oh! You look so thin!”
Help me with that calculus;
I still mass twenty four stone…
Ahhh! Teen age angst,
Existential misery,
And a crappy attitude.
Adolescent trifecta!
~
Ahhh! Middle Age angst,
Existential misery,
And a huh-how attitude.
Middle Age trifecta!
~
Geriatric angst,
Existential misery,
And… uhhh… what was I saying?
Oh well. It doesn’t matter.
