Sweet, Sweet Life

Sweet, Sweet Life:

It’s funny how
When you’re really living
I mean really engaged
In the day-to-day
In the moments that you’re living
In the activities
That fill your world
In the emotions and feelings
And motions and real things
You can be so immersed
In living and experiencing

Life

That you don’t reflect
Never sit down
Take time to write
When the moments fill
Your days and
Your mind is wrapped
Up in cloudy consistency
Or glaring inconsistency
Which thrills and
Inspires confuses and
Contents

It feels
So alive and so right
But so much is missed
Without the time
For it to pass again
Through the lens
But is it really any better
For the mind to stare
At the past
And rehash
When there is so much
Hashing out there
To be done?

To hash
Or to rehash?
That is the question
Of the moment
But then again
Isn’t that the answer?

Emerging

Adrift
Along
A clouded
Stream from
Dream to
Awake
Aware
Of all
Feelings
Still reeling
From unconscious
Interpretations
Of conscious
Interrelations
I’m calling
Out
I’m crawling
To find you
For as I emerge
From the deep
I reach for you
And you alone

Hermosa la vida

Corremos
Pero paramos
Devoramos
Pero tenemos hambre
Aprendemos
Pero olvidamos
Inspiramos
Pero nos perdemos
Hablamos
Pero nos callamos
Vivimos
Pero dormimos
Reímos
Pero lloramos
La vida nos desgasta
Pero seguimos
Y si me preguntas
Yo te contesto
La vida es hermosa
Y también el resto

Incredible

It catches me off-guard
Every time someone asks
How was it?
As if that’s a reasonable inquiry
When referring to any other life experience
Why ask anything at all?
The whole thing doesn’t fill me
With anything but wonder

It’s really quite eye-opening
To realize how people
Who don’t care to know
And those who don’t know
What it is they want to know
And those who don’t know
How to learn what it is they want to know
All ask the same question

So then it’s on me I suppose
To respond in a manner
That would allow me to determine
The precise inspiration
Behind the person’s laziness
Or disinterest
Or inability to relate
None of which offend me
Nor do I think they should

Upon reflection
It seems that I owe them
Or at least some of them
The benefit of the doubt
But all I ever seem to muster
In my inevitable state
Of ironic inability to relate
Is: It was incredible.

Baby

I’m slow to the roll
Baby steps
Baby steps
Baby, I’m steppin’
But I ain’t goin’ nowhere

Back to the drawing
Bored of the
Monotony
Baby steps
Steppin’ baby
I’m just a baby

Grown ass man
Plans rearranged
This strange life
Is not what I
Imagined it to be

I’m baby steppin’
Maybe steppin’
Is all I can do
Or all I need to do
To become a man