Rhyme Time

A POEM FOR THE RHYME OF OUR TIME

This time I write a rhyme for the exception

The rule has had quite enough attention

I say that this is surely my opinion

This is a rhyme for our time.

When I find there is time there is decision

Where I decide to make space for concentration

If the exceptions are the few who

Are obeying the rules

I think that is quite a contradiction!

Someone made so much of a something

As simple as it could be it was not complete

It needed some complexity

And no lack of sympathy

The flavor a symphony it would be

Worth any discrepancy!

So, I scrutinize my lines

If there is an error, I will find it

Not really trying to be perfect

If I wanted it exactly right

I ended up doing something else instead

Time to rhyme, no time like today…

PURITY NOT PROMISED

I am not 100% pure. I do not expect to ever be so.

I do not have all things. I do not expect to. Ever.

I am not Christ. Not really.

I do not emphasize Evil. I never have. I never will.

I am not one to argue, if I can avoid it.

I do not avoid feeling, not intentionally.

I am being as patient as humanly possible.

I am doing the best I can to live for a purpose I did not design entirely by myself. I believe the Universe is in on it with me.

I am rarely one way or another exclusively. I keep my mind open to seeing the opposite, as well as the in-between, the neutral.

I would not want to be a king. I do not want to be a fake.

I am being the most law-abiding citizen I can. This was not always the case.

I was not born impeccable. No one was.

I was born in a low place. I am climbing my way to where I need to be.

I bless myself. Blessing myself is the reason I am blessed.

I have given and taken enough to make remembering all of it difficult.

I like to buy what I need for myself. I may have expensive taste.

I do not get everything I want. I do not mind, not getting everything that I want.

I am watching from afar, a Pandemic and Pandemonium.

I believe in myself. I believe in Love. I believe in God. I will believe in God even if they are dead.

I am the person over here who is remaining alive and living for what I believe in.

by David L. Bragen

N.Y.E.

Wee hours of the morning. Never before and never again. I see no point in arguing, so I don’t. I love when I do not argue, so I don’t. When I connect with other people who don’t argue, with other people who don’t like to argue, there is as much Love as I expect to find. I love myself therefore. I love others therefore. New Year’s Eve, the next few hours are invisible. When the clock strikes midnight, I will not be arguing with anyone. Blessings to you and your happy new year. Please find peace…..

A Mutual Failure To Articulate

                                                

     There are language barriers keeping people from being able to communicate directly with one another all over the world. All too often, wars are fought over what language will be spoken in a specific territory, and what forms of verbalization will be tolerated by the varying cultures. People have been killed because of something they said. People have been exalted or elected because of what they were able to say, if they were agreeable in forms of speech, or if their figuring was accurate or convincing.

     Knowing when and how to silence one’s own mouth is an asset. Being able to translate or interpret symbols and characters from a “foreign” language is also an asset. Foreign is relative, compared to the language one is accustomed to speaking, and there are often official languages in nations and territories that differ from those of distant lands. Nearby neighbors could be more likely to communicate clearly when the first language we learned is the same one, though this is far from always the case. If I only speak one language fluently, I have a home among those who speak that language too, though I would be at a disadvantage in a place where that vernacular is rarely spoken. It’s a fair comparison to make to say that if I know my way around a city, I feel as though I have established roots there. If I am uprooted and put in a place no one knows my name, if I become “the new kid in town,” I could be shunned at first, until my presence is once again established. Building trust becomes a matter of time.

     To be trusted and known to be reliable is a prize in life. I am making this a goal for myself. Both short-term and a long-term. I hope to begin at my present location, age, reputation. I hope I can become a more trusted identity, and more so as I continue to mature.

     Many disagreements and conflicts I have seen have been the result of someone’s inability to say what they mean. It was laziness, a twisted sense of humor, fear, or lack of coordination which caused them (or me) to say something untruthful, to say what was reasonable, or to say something simple. Then there is the case of the outright lie, the elaborate fabrication. There is then a case to be made for poetry, saying what for the sake of rhyming. And, there is saying what was relatively true, if the context was what the offended ear had not in mind, intending to act as if the one person knew what the other meant. I was not on the same page, he believed I was.

     Why did the two or three or ten people disagree about what the truth was when it was plain to see? I thought it reasonable to believe, they thought it outrageous. Reasonableness is opinionated. Truth is not plain to see most of the time. Would we recognize it if it were? Would we notice if what was true was lost from over-thinking and over-analyzing? There is a difference of opinion; I thought it nothing more than: A mutual failure to articulate.

                                                                                             DLB

Whatever For?

The Questions remain. The fighting remains. Who is fighting who, and what for?

There are known or believed to be wars in many places on Earth. When someone starts a rumor, saying there is cause to believe so-and-so broke the rules by having a weapon that could wipe out a city at the push of a button, whether or not it is true doesn’t seem to matter as much as whether or not others believe it. If David knocked down Goliath with a slingshot and a pebble, okay, he’s down, but he might get back up. If he cuts off his head, he isn’t going to. This outrageous act of murder during a battle has caused humiliation unending. It was a mistake. After all, the two sides in the feud were at one time different parts of the same family. To speak of kicking someone when they are down…

What are the parameters by which one may find peace? Certainly not by signing a paper and shaking hands agreeing not to fight anymore. That is no guarantee. If someone leaves and doesn’t come back to a place he has caused trouble, that is good for someone. A president or a king in a land renown for its resources certainly can’t expect to control everyone. That’s why peace agreements don’t work to end wars. If someone says they know who did it, they know who the mass murderers were, and they congratulate them, why not interrogate them and get information? It certainly couldn’t exactly have been them, they all died in the process. I don’t know exactly who did what to who, or why they did it, but if I want peace, I’m going to find it within myself, not out there somewhere.

If we can let others have peace instead of giving it to them, they may be more likely to obtain it. After all, peace is great, but it’s not everything. Someone could be more concerned with making ends meet or getting enough to eat, or going to a movie, or finding Love. The opportunities are there as long as we are alive. I hope. I pray. Godspeed and good day.

What Happened Hero?

There were times I thought I would have been better off if I had only taken my own advice. “Those would’ve been the decisions I tried to make,” I said to God, staring at the pile of empty complaints I tried to answer with excuses. “I meant to do this, but what I did was,”…over and over again.

What happened the time I had that thing in my pocket, that small but valuable stone I found at the jewelry supply store? I put it in my pocket one day hoping It would help me meditate, find a friend, or feel good. What I got was, to say the least, static. Interference. Fighting. I felt invaded by voices and pictures from my past, flooding my mind with images of angry men and women, who wanted that stone, or at least to keep me from having it.

It was in my pocket after all, little did they know, some things desirable cost a little bit of money. In this case, $1.25 was the price I paid, before tax. “But it’s mine!,” said one of the voices. “What right do you have to keep that?” Another voice replied. “Why is it yours?” I asked. “I want it!” Said they. I ask myself sometimes, why is it mine or anyone else’s? I can buy some things I truly want or need if I successfully attempt to.

One day, when I was attempting to carry and work with the small beautiful jewel, I became weary of fighting to the death over something so small and inexpensive. I went out at 6:00 in the morning to a nearby park, the Sun was only beginning to show it’s flames, and I removed the stone from my pocket. I had gone to a duck pond at the park, and lo and behold, there it was, and I gently tossed it in.

Once, Only Once

Once upon a time, in a long forgotten place, deep down inside me, was a restlessness. The need for the counterpart, the recovery, the rest between work hours, the meditation, all that I previously knew to be ways, was nowhere to be found. I was miserable!

That initial draw to look for answers within myself hasn’t gone away, it’s only been rejected, despised, and otherwise derided. I didn’t tend to think this was all my fault, though I intended to accept responsibility for it.

I will continue to practice, what I already have learned to do, and as I learn more, I believe I will have a conclusion, drawn authentically by my own intelligent intuitive mind, together with the Universe. I do not expect to stop learning. I do not expect to stop working at living, inwardly, outwardly, otherworldly, for a very long time. I will not expect others to live the way I live. I will not set up any rules for others to live by, but rather, to make whatever rules I make to be the rules I enforce on myself. I would do this because I believe this is the good and right way to live.

DLB

A Matter Of Personal History-1

I was one of these who for some reason, being that my sister and I both forgot our house key, I climbed on to the roof, using a tree. Once I was on the roof, being egged on by neighbors as well as my sister, I oops, slid into the chimney! I was then rather stuck. What did I do while I was in there? Inside a chimney, though I was young enough and small enough to slide in, there is not much room to move around.

To make a long story short, someone called the fire department, who tried the damper, which I was standing on. They lowered a rope and pulled me out through the top. I grabbed on to the rope, as my hands were above my head, and it would have been too painful to put the rope around me. I came out, covered with soot, and looked at myself in the fire truck side view mirror.


In the days of my youth, when myself and my neighbors would walk around on campus at a nearby University, we were in the Drama building, me and one other. One of the instructors approached us in the hall. He asked if I could fake a limp, I tried, and he put us in a play production. I became Tiny Tim in a rendition of A Christmas Carol, called “Scrooge.”

I was once on the Art Linkletter Show, when I was in Kindergarten. I went to Nursery School at Co-Op, and I was in the Cub Scouts and YMCA Indian Guides. I had a few Judo lessons, two years. I once won a Pinewood Derby contest, reigning undefeated. I also got several bullseyes at the Archery firing line, at Camp. I’ve been bullied and I’ve been fooled, I’ve been jinxed. I have been robbed of a brand new bicycle. I have been beaten up at school, when that bully broke my nose. I have been heckled from a car window. I have been asked if I needed a ride.


I’m sure there’s more, I’ll save it for later.

How Do I Know?

How do I know what effect it will have on others when I think? I was thinking something to myself, it sounded as though someone forty feet away said that same thought, out loud. Am I so attuned?

How do I seem so sure I know what the future does not have in store? If there were a use for it I’d tell what I think I know will not happen. No super-famous person from legend or history is going to return to fight for what is good or right…The “Good” might be no stronger, no better at battling. How can a battle be ultimately won by Good, if war is Evil? Are our own bodies territory? Are there more than one or two types of seniority?

Will it rain? Will rain help put out the wildfire? It’s getting cooler, we know that much. Will my life somehow be an improvement on the previous generation? Somehow, but not in every way. I can never expect to correct my mother. These thoughts are rambling this way and that, but please humor me and bear with me, I do not know!!!

My life may not get easier, but can I become easier? Am I Life Itself? If I choose, I can sometimes be easy to get along with. I think so. I am almost honest enough, in my own opinion, though I still occasionally err. I will continue to improve, until I am truthful enough in my own observation. I can correct myself when I mis-speak. How do I know what effect it will have on others, when I publish this?

-DLB-

 

Why, What?

Here I was, asked a question. Over and over, eventually leading to the only answer left. “I don’t know.” Why? Why it is that if I attempt to find out why I feel the way I do, the feeling won’t budge. Not at all, and I think to myself, “what was I thinking?” and wanting to know what happened to what I was feeling. In the process of reasoning, I lost touch with what it was I was meaning to discover why about.

Why did I want nothing more than for the feeling to be able to change, and become more pleasant? Whatever it was, it was somehow unpleasant, very dangerous, unnatural, or unsavory. I changed my attitude, my approach, my response, and it still feels the same way it did more than thirty-five years ago. Something is going on with this. Is some part of my life opposed to “change?”

Why? Why What? Why don’t you want to change? Asked I, today, as never before. I intend to find out………..