A poem for yesterday

Old friend
How do I tell you?
I am no longer a thing,
neither a prince,
nor an object,
I am not the hero you seek,
nor the victim I desire to be.

This is all so serious,
the greatest laugh,
sacred folly,
a holy clown.

I have seen the secret,
peeked behind the curtain,
into the ether,
the empty space,
between pride and shame,
I hate to tell you,
they are one in the same.

Oh old friend,
Are you moving?
have you been sitting there all this time?
come with me,
this heavy load will become light,
 (if only I was not alone), 
If you could dispatch your feelings,
upon the safety of my station,
I would gladly take them,
I can not,
this great divide is fathomless, 
there is no way over,
these are your gifts to keep.

Come I have oxygen and tea,
restoration is ready for you,
here is the water!
I have a story that will give you pause, recovery, and some peace.

It is the story of the wise fool,
a being beyond their years,
perpetually out of date,
trapped in time,
dragged backwards, 
to unlock stone tombs,
sealed eternally.
An endless circle backwards,
without an escape route,
anchored to the past.

Empty eyes, 
smiling and crying, 
adding their pain, 
into the openness of vulnerability,
hallow and unguarded,
standing in solitude,
holding up the walls.

“Surely you can bear our load,
what is one more tragedy for you?”

Connection is in abundance,
the effort is to sync,
I do not see things your way,
do you hear yourself?
you seek a solution for seeking,
a destination for this endless journey,
a way out from right here,
still hungry for last night’s feast,
still aching from yesterday’s famine,
Oh! this narrative,
This narrative of the past.

Break the script.

Growth is possible,
not through the resolution of yesterday’s tragedies,
not through the celebration of past triumphs,
you can’t go back,
there is no road, 
the path does not lead that way. 

Empathic diminishment,
I do not know what to do with your smiles?
Where do I put these tears?
Old Friend,
I do not know how to tell, 
I am leaving,
I have left.
No longer am I where you see me,
no longer am I this object,
a creation from your pain,
a deflection of your sadness.
The mirror that you fear, 
earning deeply for.

Trust me.
I am not afraid to look,
To see my conceit,
My greed,
My horror,
My addictive ghost....
always hungry.
Ok what? It is there. 
It is there! 
Let’s face it together with fiery tears and cool refreshing laughter!
Yes, laughter!
Our shield from the erosive cancer of self importance.

I suffer only for I!

Remember when we were little,
I don’t,
I can not feel it, 
it has become lost.
All I have is empty words, 
scattered patchy memories,
mere shadows of the powerful feeling that once occupied me,
then they vanished into the curtain of time and impermanence. 
Poof! they are gone. 
Vanished forever.

Only a restless demon wants me to remembers,
to relive, 
to bring back from death,
in a mutilated and lifeless form,
the candle’s last flicker.
Bending an imaginary imagine of what was,
warping truth to exist, 
commanding my perpetual dysfunction;

These are my habits,
These are my ideas,
These are my preferences,
These are my expectations,
This is my stagnancy.

Blinded ambition, 
to resolve the unresolvable, 
what was owed, 
what was given,
this debt that imprisons us,
always willing itself to life from dissatisfaction,
birthed by resentment of unfulfilled expectations and fantasies,
a moment kept alive thorough the addiction to the illusion of permanence. 
I must matter!
I must fix this! 
Hear me scream!
Hear me wail!
Here I am!
In all my misery.
Sleepless skeletons rule my world,
ridged with justice for cases closed long ago,
burning with importance,
demanding court.
This is MY view,
my trauma lens,
how I see all things,
the present blinded by the past.

As each moment arises and passes,
only a shadow is left behind,
be aware of it’s presence,
do not follow this shadow,
it leads only to death,
the death of growth and awareness,
away from eternity,
the eternity and immortality of now. 
Death is our past and our future. 
Life is right now!
Immortality is not becoming permanent
It is the awareness of the endlessness of the present moment. 

Old friend,
former self,
yesterday’s sweet love,
last night’s cutting sorrow,
let me be now,
let new love die,
free this moment from your bondage, 
Goodbye old friend. 

We bang our heads against dead wood,
Demanding water!
Help me I am thirsty!!!