Women have fascinated me for much of my life. Early on, I had this deep need to understand them or me or me with them, either through observation or dare I say love?
However, through time, either the need has passed or I just accepted my own failures in this regard and have just moved on to parenting.
I see something sinking here.
Drifting… gone away.
Sinking to that bottom there.
No more light of day…
Lately, I’ve been drinking here.
I’ve had so much to say.
There’s been all this thinking there.
I have to turn to look away.
It’s just these dreams. That I’m thinking of.
Oh, it’s not what it seems. I don’t believe in love.
Standing here at skies edge there.
With nothing but today.
Walking there on that ledge here.
Don’t you look the other way!!
Some days I just get things right here.
When I hear the song you play.
Moves me to where I can see you there.
And not look the other way.
You move me… You do.
You move me, you do.
Its just those dreams, that I’m thinking of.
Oh, it’s not what it seems. I don’t believe in love.
Foggy rainy on a Monday.
October late near Halloween.
I wasn’t late. So easy sleazy.
Feeling great and sight unseen.
I don’t care now like I used to.
I still pray, though, on my knees.
I saw her here. I fade like Tuesday.
Be still my heart. No begging, please!
There’s a silence in the ether.
There’s a smile here on that face.
I can’t stay long. Not like I used to.
Because you see, I know my place.
I’m still hounded by all this beauty.
I know that comes as no surprise.
I take it all. These gifts as duty.
In all this life. While I have eyes.
Marcus wrote, ‘When you arise in the morning think of what a precious privilege it is to be alive-to breathe, to think, to enjoy and to love. ‘
Now there’s a meditation.
It might be important to note that Mr Aurelius was the last of what was considered to be in Rome…
‘The 5 Good Emporers. ‘ A period of about 200 years that ended in 180 A.D.
Marcus was also a Stoic Philosopher.
A large gaping mouth set on a gigantic head, held up by a tiny neck unable to swallow their desires…
The horror! The horror!!
Now I have the visual of the narcissistic view.
They fear they don’t exist…
I recognized my nature.
Not much was steeped in good.
There was this strange sensation.
Like maybe I just should.
Forget it all and start a new.
Take the narrow view to wide.
Take my head out from my ass.
And maybe look outside.
Not all is gain or glory.
Not all is pain and strife.
The road the path the choices made.
It’s a wild ride this life.
I remembered everything dramatic until I didn’t. I let that shit go, which is a monumental gift.
However, I remember certain individuals from my childhood who, at the time, I thought were unreasonably cruel. Now I realize they were just human. Nothing more or less. So, to those people that I criticized on the eastcoast!,
“All Apologies!”
The day the voice moved in with me, he brought his good friend fear.
Said ‘We all share your heart and soul you’ll soon forget we’re here.’
The day the voice moved in with me, peace and sleep moved out.
The addict he was at the door, and the voice he jumped to shout.
Said, ‘We like you we like it here, we know you like us too
And we know you’ll like our friends, cause true friends are so few.’
The voice would talk for hours about nothing much at all.
And all the noise would wake the fear and the drunk would wake withdrawal.
Years had passed in tears and stains and I had to kill the fear.
The voice he left in the middle of the night, said he didn’t like it here.
The voice returns sometimes when I sleep but he’s gone when I’m awake.
The strength it took to kill the fear was more than he could take.
And the drunk is with the addict and they live from coast to coast. And sometimes when I pray to God, I pray you’re not their host.
Singing, ‘We like you, we like it here, we know you like us too. And we know you’ll like our friends cause true friends are so few.
–Dennis Mantin
The bad luck raised suspicions, on a path that was beat down.
No one dared to look within or see the wise men in the town.
It was happening for eons, as long as Grandad could recall.
Like a dark foreboding plank walk or a dream in which you fall.
Until the child spoke her words that, “Maybe somethings wrong with me?”
So we made a meeting with the Doc, down at the Family Psychiatry.
The doctor raised awareness and we all took a look.
Things are looking so good now, might take Grandma off the hook.
Now life is far from perfect however the family’s not so sad.
Looking in the mirror, not blaming blind luck, good or bad.
I don’t know why my baby loves clowns.
Whose painted on tears never fall down.
I don’t know what she sees in their eyes
Perhaps the line between horror/surprise…
I don’t know why my baby can’t sing.
Why carnival music isn’t her thing.
It fills my head when I’m at the fair.
Searching for clues in clowns everywhere.
I don’t know why she screams at night.
I hope it’s not why she holds me so tight.
Because I’m the type I’m weak for love.
Carnival music I rise above.
Is it the pain or is it the tears?
For some carnival crime from yesteryears.
Maybe it’s you, maybe I’ll never know.
Maybe it’s me, baby let go.
(chorus)
Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the kings horses and all the kings men.
Tried and they tried but she fell down again.
Humpty Dumpty sat on the wall Humpty Dumpty had a great fall
She went to her shrink ended up at the mall.
Humpty Dumpty wanted it all.
Dennis Mantin
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