Archive for humanity

Wash your Hands

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 3, 2016 by bigtuna185

dirty-hands-fb-9-27-15

All we are is mud and I don’t always feel dirty

With the caked dirt falling from off of my hands

I am falling off of myself

Every day rising out of filth is a new day to wash myself

I am a part of the earth and the earth is in me

Pushing me out of my cocoon

Metamorphosis ripping the old me to shreds

Organs and bones shifting

My exoskeleton keeping me from harm

Please don’t touch my wings for I want to fly someday

Soaring over mountains and valleys and landfills and sumps

Rolling around the grass with childlike ignorance of all that is coming

What is coming, I don’t know

But they’ve told me it’s bad

Unless you’re good

Then it’s good

But there’s no measurement of good to keep you from the bad

And of course I am dirty and so I don’t want to be dirty when the bad things

Wait, I mean the good things, come my way

And it’s so hard to be clean when everyone else doesn’t want to be clean

The faucet is drip drip dripping down the drain

Keeping me awake at night and I can hear humanity drowning drop by drop

And all I can think about is the mud on my hands and the blood in my veins

And the blood on my hands and the mud in my veins

Because you can’t escape the curse of your ancestry and so we would all be doomed

If it wasn’t for His blood shed for my muddled affairs

We are all blind as the clay has hardened around our eyes

We try to mold our own destiny and shape our lives the way we think is best

But we have cut off our own hands

And we have no feeling

So we die

Advertisements

Retrospective

Posted in Poetry, Random Thoughts with tags , , , , , , , , on November 9, 2014 by bigtuna185

I took a ride on the Long Island Railroad
On my way home from the city
It was an old train car
Wood paneling
Vintage upholstery
Seat cushions exhausted by exhausted passengers
Unreliable doors that threatened to open unexpectedly

Impossibly, I found a seat to myself
That I might exist uninhibited
Alas, a family of three came
Single mother, two children
The youngest of which warbling for
A place to sit
Without hesitation, I gathered my things and offered it up
A sacrifice
Or hardly, so I thought

A man behind me commended me on my human decency
Has society become so bad that I deserve
The utmost praise
For a single seat?

I accepted the compliment and gazed out the window

Every now and then the lights would go out
The result of electrical wiring from decades past
And in those dark moments
Silence befell the train car
And all at once everything outside became clear
Where once there was a glare from man’s innovation
I like to think that there was a conductor
Somewhere on the train
That did this on purpose
So that the spirit of curiosity
Would remain alive at the prospect of twinkling stars
And vibrant city lights

My seat eventually came back to me
And I struck up a conversation with the man across
No prior meeting
No motive behind it
Just two strangers talking
Life being the subject
Our experience the well to draw from

Back and forth we went
Each of us at different stages
He in a later chapter
And I just beginning a new one
Yet we related and enjoyed the exchange
Without even the exchange of names

On that train, I felt as if I had traveled backwards in time
For there are no random encounters such as these anymore
Had it been another person
At a different time
In another car
Things would not have gone the way that they did

Seemingly insignificant, I cherish that moment
And I thank God for the lesson and story that came with it