the fog
is thickest
at
the beginning
of the journey
like
a warm blanket
of
innocence
concealing
all the perils
that
may be there
so
fear
isn’t
felt
instead
the blindness
fosters
an excitement
for the trip
like
all of childhood
for
one sees
so many
paths
that may be taken
heightening
a sense
of
adventure
into
the unknown
all things then
are
possible
so
a path
is
chosen
and
the ascent
from the valley floor
begins
leaving behind
that childhood blanket
of
innocence
as
the foothills
are reached
the fog begins
to clear
still vision
is impaired
oh on occasion
a strong breeze
like
a sudden death
clears the path
defining for a moment
what lies ahead
however
it is only
a brief foresight
then the climb
continues
into the haze
of each day
laboring
to rise above the fog
hours like years
seem to pass
before the timberline
has been reached
then
eyes and vision
becomes aware
of
the dangers
on the trail
and
those all around
one marvels then
at the beauty of life
but
feels a sense
of sadness
for
not seeing
what was before
along the journey
but
the climb continues
to the tundra
the grandeur of the trees
now replaced
by barren earth
with only
low-to-ground plants
standing
like tombstones
now the path narrows
there is
no
turning back
no
fog
just
the trails
end
those melodies that have set the tempo of your life have disappeared into the drumbeats of time you always off tempo enjoying all the missteps you’ve made never regretting the toes you stepped on it was just part of life’s dance anyway they should’ve never asked you to dance in the first place or held your dreams so close to their broken hearts guess that’s why you’ve always worn those steel toed shoes cuz all of life is a construction zone one never knows when the sky will fall crushing the tips of your tomorrows by the way whatever happened to all those old dance cards you held seems you were deserted on the dance floor no one to hold or dream about guess that’s what happens when you happily prefer dancing to the off beat
the edges of dreams are frayed from all those yesterdays such ragged edges have no chance of restoration nothing can be mended so they’ll just remain as free floating fragments in random moments of life’s memory
please don’t say those words again about us all getting along because we can’t hell even lovers can’t do that so why do we pretend that the embedded rebars of ignorance and hate can be chiseled from centuries of layered contrived history each previous attempt has been paved over with more hatred and fabricated reasons to fear others that are not understood nor acknowledged for that matter so please do not bother me with can’t we all just get along
what’s
before us
seems less
clear
the details
like
the truth
cannot be
distinguished
from
what
is hidden
in
lies’ shadows
those
words
between
the words
said
that are
so easily confused
with
reality
for
most disciples
of
tykhe
desire
that
their
beliefs
are
the gospel truth
though
most often
they
are not
rather
they’re
a convenient tool
for
political salesmen
to use
to
sell their snake oils
seems like
carnivals
have not
really
gone
out of style
in
the political circus
public schmucks
continue
to toss
balls of dollars
at
leaded kewpie dolls
that only fall
when
the peddler’s bank account
has reached
a stage
of
overflowing
or
the poor sap
is
about
to walk
away
before
their pockets
have been
fleeced
completely
to
fund
an undeserved
retirement
for
personal
public
service
at
which point
the only one
needing
a white cane
is
the public
i’m not sure
why i didn’t notice
it before
perhaps
the window
was partially opened
and
i must
have been closer
to
the window
so
the stench
went
unnoticed
but
i’ve heard
others
speak
of
it
but
i was certain
for awhile
that
they were
quite
mistaken
but
now
the smell
is
totally
oppressive
putrid smells
of
a slaughterhouse
bends
my body
to
the ground
as
i retched
when
i realize
that
in
the darkness
of
these
last few years
it was
the smell
of
the rotting corpse
of
freedom
traditionally a square shaped space with solid bars resembling a cage no flexibility in the range of movements but was excellent at teaching the lesson that there was no way out but the old-fashioned bar design is long gone now modern designs provide flexible walls and a clearer view of what’s beyond the horizon thus facilitating the illusion of freedom this sense of freedom can be enhanced by a variety of extra features added to this stagnant environment options that are entertaining and distracting thus heightening the belief that all things are possible but like all social playpens the function remains the same to maintain confinement thereby safety for the ruling class
