Fat Ninja

This one was written some time ago. I don’t honestly recall when. I do, however, remember that it was quite literally a stream-of-consciousness piece. I basically strapped on some headphones, listened to (I believe)Peter Gabriel’s album Passion and started typing away. It’s a practice I still use today to help “exorcise the demons”, if you will.

The pain of being me

Not that I�m looking for sympathy

Not that I�m asking you to

Make exceptions

On account of a difficult life

Who�s life is not

Without trouble

It�s how we cope

It�s a matter of how we

Face adversity

Whether we use our

Pasts as a justification for our presents

Whether we let the monsters of memory

Make monsters of ourselves

That is what determines

Our worth as a person

Sometimes I don�t know who I am

When I let anger and passion

Take over

When I relinquish reason and logic

To sheer, unbridled emotion

That is when I become

Someone that is not me

There is so much anger and frustration

Pent up in me

Slowly chipping away

At my resolve to be a better person

To be the person I once was

I despise what I have become

I hate myself for

Letting life win

For letting the way things are

Strip me of my vision of the way things should be

I can never forgive myself

For giving up on the world

And I wish this poem

Could be cheerful

I wish it could pierce the gloom

And let light in

But I can�t even manage

The diction to pay

Tribute to a cloudless day

Or the way my wife looks

When she�s smiling

Or, perhaps I can

Maybe, just for a moment,

I can forfeit my anger and give

Homage to the woman I love

Mother of my greatest achievements

Maybe I can describe to you

The face of joy

The way the corners of her eyes crinkle

The way light shines out from her pupils

The way her nose lifts lightly from her upper lip

Giving way to that

Expansive smile

It�s not something I see as often as I�d like these days

And I know that I cause her much pain

That my family�s past and what it has

Done to us, to me, to her

Has taken its toll on her ability to love me

I know that my reluctance to grow up

Has overstayed its welcome

under the roof of her patience

and I�m sorry that the glimmer in her eyes

becomes more dim with each day

memory�.how befuddling it is

memory and its many triggers

like this song that�s playing now

as I sit and type at a computer

with my eyes shut

the melody and power of the piece

coursing through me like

so much inspiration

it�s almost composing

as emotions felt

begin to surface among the swells of my consciousness

like flotsam from a sunken vessel

bringing with it slivers of images

of moments gone

instances of joy, of wonder, of sadness, of revelation

of beginning to understand who I am

who I was, who I will be

and the seeming impossibility of ever reconciling the three

and yet, as one song fades

another rises up to take its place

conjuring emotions of its own

joy, pleasure, the company of friends

the solace of solitude

the grace of sitting alone

in a secluded park

breathing in life

of letting go of emotion

of feeling without feeling

the realization of the effortlessness of being

the next movement brings fear

and uncertainty

claustrophobic feeling

weighing down the spirit

a pressure obliterating that which

buttresses my soul

blasting away hope

forcing me to accept that

the past does not exist

each moment experienced is one you can never get back

you can hold it tight in your mind

but even then the sands slip

working their way out of recollection�s grip

leaving only the feeling of ever having grasped it

there is only this moment to treasure

to take as yours and do with as you will

and there are not enough of them

to squander on anger and selfishness

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