The hover fly is a look-a-like who appears like a bee
but these beneficial imposters still help with pollinating.
This one particular hover fly however, had issues with his identity.
Envious of the bees, prized by so many, he couldn't hide his jealousy
And while bees tend to stick with light colors, purples, pinks and blues,
they tend to skip by dark colors, browns and reds while they peruse.
The hover fly was so lonely, he felt like his heart was bruised.
Every day he looked for his soulmate, a perfect flower he'd choose
searching for a botanical beauty whom daily he'd visit her blooms.
Hover fly stretches his wings and leaves his bumble cousin's hive
Always envious of the butterflies, bees, and hummingbirds
Pollinator hover fly often gets mistaken for a stinging enemy
Pursuit of the perfect flower was on his single-pointed mind
Yet his envy of the honey bee nearly took up all his time.
Soon he found the rarest beauty of the garden, crimson blossoms
Wonderfully vacillating by the caress of the wind
Eagerly awaiting a propagating partner to dance upon her petals
Eyes like flies and not like bees, thankful for the vision of garnet
To her blooms his visits came, nearly every morn
Early in the twilight before the dew had gone.
Supple symbiosis sustaining short seasonal sharing
That cardinal flower, who's red petals represented the blood of Jesus
Disguising himself as a common drone, even sharing a common home
Among the fuzzy bumbles, he looked homunculus in stature
Yearning to return every morning to taste her sweet nectar
Because nature finds a way, as strange as it is, from time to time
Earnest devotion and love comes from the purest of forms
Christ-like agape love, grace, comfort and mercy as well as
Kindness and trust will bind them for eternity. It can and it must.
You’re getting too old to live this way
I’d go to jail if I said to you
What’s in my head like
My Jiminy do
I gotta learn to be
A better friend
A better friend
A terse curse, well rehearsed
A foul cry from self-love
I gave up on my dreams and goals
Traded them for ashes and coals
When push came to shove
I hate you and I hate me
It’s sad that this is what came to be
And I feel it in my soul.
We were traumatized in different wars
But I can tell by looking at you
That we both got scars
That we both got scars
And this is where we break the cycle
Breaking down, breaking down
Mountains into molehills and into a trifle
I’m tired of swallowing the barrel of this rifle
There’s gotta be a better way
I know there’s a better way
Lord help me when I’m feeling low
When I want to take off
and go where ever the wind blows.
Only half of me is present
And the other wants to go
And this is where we break the cycle
Breaking down breaking down
Mountains into molehills,
till it’s nothing more than a trifle
My sympathetic nervous system
Has fell into an awful rhythm
And I don’t trust anyone.
I don’t trust anyone.
You just do what you do
Cuz it means something to you
You just feel obligated to
Or whatever’s not true
Just to keep up with tradition.
I’d rather be soaring with the birds
Than dangling from these rafters
I don’t know what you mean
I don’t know what you’re after.
I think this experiment has gone wrong
And you’re tired of stringing me along
And I sure don’t blame you
I can’t say that I blame you
18 years ago
We had a tumultuous relationship
And at times I resented you
As a child I didn’t understand what your job was
I simply thought it was an authoritative position
And occasionally there was assurances
Of love and appreciations.
Now I see that I’m missing tools from my toolbox
And some were buried with you after your death.
Now so I watch YouTube to try to find those tools
I imagine you would have liked me to have.
I imagine you would have liked me a little more
If I didn’t give you so much of a hard time
if I just let you in a little more.
And without you here,
It’s all just a fucked up guessing game.
“Is it time now?”
“Am I still a disappointment?”
How do you make amends to ashes scattered in the wind?
Fighting a Losing Battle
The men are assholes
And the women are over-reacting.
The children are clueless
And the leadership is in shambles.
Our ends have been cut
And there’s no promise of new ones.
Drafting armies of drones
Feeding off propaganda
That will get citizens shot and stoned and excite the masses to get the mission done.
While the offspring are stretching their roots
Trying to get closer to the sun
The sun didn’t leave.
It’ll be back tomorrow
When the new day is begun.
But they won’t stop chasing new “missions”
They deem worthwhile pursuits
And chasing the novelty
Because everything is so new.
Until they get the hindsight
Of 20 years down the line.
And maybe respect those that have held the line
This whole fucking time.
The children broke the chain of command
And some hearts in the process
Fighting what they thought was a private war
But we’ve all had to fight it.
Their problems are not snowflakes
But it’s the first time they’ve seen that shape
I once was a commanding officer
But I’m just a grunt left in their wake.
The ebb and flow of faith and hope
Nothing is static
Except maybe the price of dope
A dime is a dime and a gram is a gram
But those things we think we need to cope
Are just crutches for the misanthrope.
Return to your faith
Which will wax and wane
And it doesn’t mean you’ll be without pain.
But better days are ahead and still
You won’t find it by smoke, needle, drink or pill
Everything I know is Wrong
Or at least that’s what I’ve come to believe
I’ve tried to relive all my old ways
and found no relief.
I tried to go back to being myself
But I don’t know that person anymore.
I fancied myself a weirdo
A little eccentric, a sometimes drinker
and always swore.
I used a middle finger as greeting.
Always quick with a hug upon meeting.
Doesn’t everyone deserve a hug and a second chance?
Not many want to stick around for that dance.
Now that I’m older and proclivities more refined,
I recognize what was once exciting
was in essence, a cry for help.
I swatted away extended hands
And burned bridges to stay warm.
Sold away my dreams, a part of me died.
Characteristics, just evidence of symptoms.
No one left to diagnose.
Constructing contingencies to provide safe haven,
Constricting confluences pressure to cave in.
Working out this existential crisis on a
cruise ship we’ve become slaves in.
My father once told me...
...that dragonflies would sew my mouth shut, with threads like spiderwebs.
...that ants with wings,
had wings because they ate seeds
that fell from bird’s mouths as the flew.
Then I went to school, and got laughed at when I revealed this knowledge.
...once, while working on his car,
he held a tiny spring clip in the palm of his hand,
saying that it was called the ‘jesus christ’ clip.
Because it was so tiny, that if you dropped it,
you’d never find it and yell
Just try asking for one at the auto parts store.
I later learned it was an e-clip.
"The less full of ourselves we are, the more room we have for other people."
I'm not sure where I remember seeing this quote, or who it is attributed to. It has revealed many layers over the years. On the surface, it reminds us not to be full of ourselves. Digging a little deeper, we ask ourselves, "full of what?", "who are the 'other people'?"
There’s nothing worse than becoming old and irrelevant, dreaming only of things out of reach.
Im Edging Catharsis
Im a legend in my own mind.
Later in life, however
that's not the truth that I'd find.
I wish I knew as much
as I once thought I did.
Before bartering risk vs. reward
rebuilding a foundation
I onced raized as a kid
When I couldn't see a future
it was so futile, just shit.
So God chose a woman
to put in my path.
She'd teach me to treat myself
with much less wrath.
She'd tell me to forgive myself
just as Jesus had,
she showed me I had a family in Christ,
I had a perfect Dad.
Just as its His will and not ours
please take care,
don't fall for the worlds charms.
There is a promise for hope and a future
for help and not harm.
And maybe you'll have to
keep reminding yourself
as I often do.
But going back to a
hopeless, nihilistic worldview
is not something I want to choose.
I feel Im standing on a precipice,
just on the verge of figuring it out.
I can see the past, and how far Id come.
The struggle is in the Faith I need,
Rock-solid Faith that's essential to get through.
Steeling myself on scripture and
mental infrastructure borne of the resolute.
"The less full of myself I am, Lord
the more room I'd have for you".