Psalm 69

My father

I have come to realize all too late that I never knew him, although his influence on me is undeniable. I wonder who he was?
What did he feel, when he was young? What did he feel about life? What did he feel about anything?

My only answer ever, was his deliberate deadly stare and an occasional harrumph. His calling card! Apparently, my calling card…
He was part of the-Great War-generation. (If any war can be categorized as great!)
He was part of a world that was divided into easily understandable colors of right and wrong. He came home to a country’s welcome and was buried with a military honor guard. His hero was John Wayne, he tried the pots as a kid and he hated hippies. But beyond that, I have no clue.
He was inscrutable.
When I finally saw the end coming, it was too late. He was too far gone into dementia for me to ever get back to a place of understanding of him, with him.
There was only his steely-eyed gaze. It froze me in my steps as a child, caught me off guard as an adult and made me cry at the very end.

So this is for my father, on what would have been his ninetieth birthday.

Psalm 69

Why have you forsaken me, you told me lies and bought me tea?
I sing your songs I sing your praise.
A life of love is no disgrace.

I stand forever knocking on your door. Don’t you want to answer me?
I’m young and old, angry and lonesome. Can’t you stand the sight of me?
My end of days has finally come, I’ve run the race and chose my path.
I leave behind just one final word, a final moment with you unheard.

I can’t hear or feel you, where have you gone. I’m so scared to lose you,
but I’m too scared to go on.
I’d never choose to leave you and I’d never let you go,
but the man you married, is too far from home!

Release me from this broken shell I’m in.
Deliver me from my past, from all my sins.
Grind my bones to flour to feed my kin.
This tired old corpse is useless, in this state I’m in!

I stand-alone in a sea of people. Why have you abandoned me?
I walk the edge between life and nothing.

Why won’t you deliver me?

Free me from…all of my evil.
Free me from… all of my truth.
Free me from… this broken body, this maimed and butchered road to hell.

You gotta free…
Free me from… all that is happy.
Free me from… what makes me sad.
Free me from… My one and only, so I can leave this road to hell.

You gotta save…
Save me from… all that’s holy.
Save me from… your sinners and saints.
Save me from… Your wretched egos, so I don’t burn in the eternal flames.

Lift me up where the wind is blowing,
Lift up to the angels on high.
Grant me life in eternal mercy, so I can shine always by your side.

Lift me up where the wind is blowing,
Lift up to the angels on high.
Grant me life in eternal mercy, so I can shine always by your side.

Forever humbled in your grace.
I’m ever humbled in your grace.
Forever humbled in your grace.
I’m ever humbled in your grace.

Selah

Advertisement

The Great Wall

I wanted to write something light and breezy. Something that would roll of your tongue, like ices on a hot day.
I wanted to write something that was amusing, something that you could repeat to yourself and get a small chuckle now and again.
I wanted to write something humorous.

So be it.
There is nothing light and breezy, nor sweet and cool on your tongue.
There is only the great wall.
Visible from outer space it is the largest man made structure on the earth.
And we love it, because it represents how we feel about others on this earth. I’m on my side, you stay on yours.
I spent my day today with a bunch of whiny complaining artists and clients. I had to sit around and wait while they piddled themselves and had pissing contests with each other.
I had to sit and listen to them bemoan the problems of the other while they continued to perpetuate the root cause.
I had to be all the things that I hate.

I stood at the great wall and prayed.

I spent my day today with homeless women. I sat there and cried when they told me of their stories and of their lives and what brought them to this moment in time.
I could do nothing except nod my head in shame and try and help them find a place to sleep.
I spent my day trying to find an answer for the questions of how could our society just toss off these people like it was nothing. How large are the cracks in our social web that they could fall through so easily and not be found?

I stood at the great wall and screamed hoping that I could shake the pillars of heaven.

I wanted to tell my clients that they were full of shit that the world was not about made up deadlines and vanity projects.
I wanted to yell at them and ask they how they could take themselves so seriously when there are people sleeping under the freeway. Mothers and daughters who had no place to go. Who had not the luxury of the conference call to air guilt laden feeling of inadequacy and rage. Who just wanted a bed and some food.

I wanted just to pimp slap their water fat faces until they understood that the world did not give a shit about them just as it did not give a shit about the women on the street.

I stood at the great wall in silence.

My wants mean nothing.

Selah

Demons

I hate these little bastards! They’re annoying as all hell and more plentiful in our world than Big Macs. To make matters worse, they seem to be quite fond of me. So in all earnest, my life has/is/ and most likely always will be replete with them. They just love my ass.
I am quite sure that this is now sounding just a tad paranoid, with a hint of crazy. But think about it.
We all look back on the conversations of past and wonder, “What the fuck was wrong with that guy” or “How the hell could I have said that?”

Demons- All manners of them too.

Personal, Heavenly, Satanic, Electrical, Automotive… You name it.

I am not implying that people have no control over their actions, but I’m more wondering about what manner of demons they have conjured up for themselves.

My demons are feisty; they are quick to anger and slow to forgive. They find the most harmless of items and create much ado about nothing, until the point has become nonsensical. But by then, you are too far-gone to know you’ve been duped.

I Really, Really, hate these little bastards!

They never grow old. They never get tired! They just keep on coming.

And what do they look like? Are they horned figures with pitchforks or hot blondes in high heels? Would they appear like Dick Cheney (Well, maybe he was actually the devil) or would they be more like Puck from Shakespeare?

I tend to think they look like me. The voice of reason and rhyme by night, but by day a seething mass of denial and false hopes.

Yup, just like me. I wonder if I can get royalties on their image?

There is no real point to this blog, just a missive about misgivings.

Selah