on the great journey of self discovery one must realize what it is that makes him tick... what it is that we can identify with. our will? our ways? our shiny hair?
our pain? our love? our sense of fair?
our notions all of right and wrong?
or with our soul? where we belong?
so... even if we never manage to fit our self in words... perhaps the goal is to stop trying.
we are.
what more is there to say?
well, I'm a woman
able to talk
endlessly,
for days.
and there you go.
new poem.
drumroll, please.
___________________________________________________
emotions
they are dumb
and mind
erroneous
while heart
is resolute
how strange...
most days I 'm able to
both master my emotions
and then control my mind
my silly little heart alone
has little sight, is blind...
it only wants to love
how strange
emotions like a passing wind
blow left and all around
my mind is strange
once in a while
I get lost in it's ways
a tree with branches stretching wide
leaves dancing in a breeze
how strange there do occur the days
when I can master both
and please
my yearning for control
and then
my heart
poor little child
has little discipline
poor little heart
too open wide
too weak, too weak for me
"go left"
I say
and it turns right
"come back"
it leaves without a sight
oh heart
did you not hear what I commanded you to do?
oh heart, you silly little thing
why won't you ever listen to
my thoughts
why don't you ever follow through
with that which I must do?
why not? the heart replies
to me you rarely speak at all
or hear my good advice
you only worry
contemplate
over a pair of rolling dice
you barely listen to my truth
and of that truth,
"dreckitude"
the most of it declare
I only do react in ways I thought you would think fair
accept what you can never change
I stand free in all my ways
of love I only know to speak
if that's what you say makes me weak
my dear
you must be right
but love, we shouldn't fight
okay?
