Sleep.
You’ve done what you must.
You survived
and you thrived
creating beauty
from spare materials.
You have done wonders
with economy
and deserve rest.
You’ve earned more than that
and perhaps
shall be further rewarded
in your new home.
If there is justice
and light in the oncoming dawn
may it be so.
Sleep.
It is yours
today.
When I see the young,
so innocent
so packed with promise
so prepared to take on
all the challenges of the world
I am stunned
silent
for a moment.
When I hear
these nubile youths
proclaiming their hope
for the future
expressing all that they so feverishly believe
pressing forward
knowing they can accomplish all that has yet been undone
I am exhausted.
I am enraged.
I am engorged with their temerity
and ridiculous faith
in their own non-existent abilities.
I am astonished how their parents
their teachers
their social media
has filled with with such inanity and claptrap
to so believe in themselves
when the elders
know so much better.
I have lived through too much now
to tolerate the exuberance of idiots.
Where there is freedom
there is foolishness.
When there is belief
there are butt heads.
Where there are the young
there you can see true idiocy.
Good luck, Class of Sixteen
Too late, I head home.
The sky’s purple has turned paler.
Christ, it’s almost dawn.
What have I done?
The night’s gotten away from me
with its temptations
and dangers.
I have hours to go before I wake
– too few hours
and too much to do.
Sleep
is what I ought to have met
long ago.
Now
Is it too late?
The moon smiles down upon me
as I face north
and head to my bed.
The sky becomes green and blue
with the sun soon to be invited
out to play.
Soon too
I will be home
and the clouds will be visible
and the moon gone
and instants after that
I shall be free
from this day
and preparing for the next.
My doctor thinks I’m getting better
which is good
I suppose
if I hadn’t cheated on the tests he gave me.
I just didn’t want to him to be disappointed
but now
I’m worried that I might have jaundice
and consumption
and triple pneumonia
and I’m not sure where I can turn.
He can’t know the truth.
I know
what I’ve really got, though:
First World Problems.
If only there was a way to cure that.
The five minutes you have now
may be the only five minutes you get this week
or this year
or this era.
Use what you get.
Make the most of it
before you realize
it’s wasted and gone
opportunity erased from your existence.
Those five minutes
paltry as they seem
are a blessing
you should exploit
at the instant that it’s offered.
Proof: you know how long
it took to write this?
Four minutes
– plus editing!
Eh.
I’m not feeling it.
I’m trying
Lord knows
I’m trying to make this work
but I’m getting loads of psychic resistance
and that’s just discouraging.
There’s no flow.
The chakras ain’t aligned
or something.
I dunno.
It’s not gonna happen
I suspect.
We can try something else
I guess
but I am not at all optimistic
about how it’s all gonna pan out
if it ain’t natural
– and clearly
natural it ain’t.
It should be easier than this
really
or what’s the point?
Sorry.
Not gonna do it.
It won’t happen.
I just don’t feel it.
It’s easier with you gone.
It was just getting so exhausting
with every day
another trial
that just ended with me feeling guilty.
I couldn’t take it much longer
so maybe
it’s just as well
that you felt the same
and left.
I would never have admitted it to you
– I’d just have kept on struggling
making it harder for both of us
day after day
trial after trial
sentence after prolonged sentence.
You did the right thing
though I could never admit this directly
and I miss you
another thing I wouldn’t say out loud.
At least
I can write the words
and leave them out
hoping somehow
somewhere
you will know them.
You know what?
I wrote that already.
The ideas that you’re struggling to put down
are ones I’ve already imagined
innovated and executed.
The things you want to say
have already been said.
Maybe by Berry
maybe by Smokey
probably by Dylan
and definitely by me.
I’ve been there.
I’ve done that.
I’ve considered and conquered
more concepts than you could ever create
– probably.
This is nothing against you.
You’re new
a novitiate in this world of wonder
juggling globes
of your own making.
You’re seeking to scratch your thoughts into phrases
and make them real
and original.
You’re doing some of that
sure
but not all of it.
You probably don’t even know
how you’re styling
on the shoulders of giants.
You’re biting my ideas.
It’s OK.
I understand.
You’ll figure out eventually
what words are still available
what plots have yet to be used.
You’ll get it together
as you get older
– and certainly
after you review
everything that I’ve trademarked
so far.
Upon reflection
it was a very fine trip.
Yes
there were days that I wished you were dead.
Certainly
I occasionally swerved off the road
praying for the sweet release myself.
There was a moment
with a stranger on a train
that I’d rather not discuss.
But for the most part
I was quite happy
with the voyage we undertook
and the adventures we had.
The scars were minor
after all
and the wounds will heal.
With enough time
I’m sure
I’ll be quite sure to find a new nose.
You are falling behind.
You have things to do
and you are falling behind.
You want to catch up,
return to your normal state,
be responsible and appropriate and average,
but
you are falling behind.
You never really wanted to race.
You wanted to take things calmly,
no competition,
no haste nor speed,
no rushing required.
You just hoped to go about your day
and now the day is gone
and you, of course,
have fallen behind.
You’d like to stop.
Rest.
Take a do-over
and begin again.
There’s a reset button somewhere
that can get you back on-track,
you know it.
Maybe someday.
Time to run.
jonberger 