Friday, March 11, 2022

Maturity . . .

 

(from Donald Trump V. The United States: Inside the Struggle to Stop a President by 
Michael S. Schmidt)
". . . the day after his inauguration. . . Trump not only had failed to grasp the new realities and sensibilities of Washington but also had entered into "another dimension of reality." The toys of the White House . . . had turned Trump into a child who sounded as if he had just opened his birthday presents. . . "I have the best toys, you won't believe the toys, and I have the best Secret Service, they will kill anybody and follow you around everywhere-there's nothing like them" . . . "


Playground In My Mind
- Clint Holmes



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Thursday, March 10, 2022

Riding . . .

 

(from https://www.rhymezone.com/r/rhyme.cgi?typeofrhyme=perfect&loc=dmapi2&Word=riding)
". . . biding, chiding, gliding, griding, guiding, hiding, iding, leidang, leiding, niding, priding, scheiding, scheidung, siding, sleiding, sliding, striding, tiding, triding, widing . . . abiding, backsliding, bekleidung, bestriding, betiding, blindsiding, broadsiding, colliding, confiding, cowhiding, deciding, deriding, dividing, eliding, entscheidung, free-riding, freeriding, girlguiding, hagriding, hang-gliding, hang gliding, horse-riding, in hiding, joyriding, landsliding, lowriding, misguiding, nitriding, outriding, presiding, providing, rawhiding, residing, subsiding, surfriding, verkleidung . . . coinciding, cyaniding, edvin ryding, law-abiding, overriding, paragliding, peroxiding, railroad siding, redividing, subdividing, suiciding . . . .carbonitriding . . ."



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Wednesday, March 9, 2022

Toss It . . .

Six AM,
The buses aren't nearly as crowded
As the night before.
Someone said there was
Music and laughter 
Behind all the shutters and doors.
What was all of it for?

Who needs friends?
There's barely a minute for breathing.
Everyone here works so hard.
There's no party.
When I reach my doorstep
I struggle to pull out my key.
Where's the meaning for me?
You see but you're unaware
There's life on the other side.

But there's no bridge to cross.
I'm looking through the fog
For some way out of here.
I've baggage here to toss.

Bless my soul!
I've read about you in the paper.
I've seen your picture somewhere.
When you speak it's in volumes and volumes.
I can't hear a word that you say.
Funny it happens that way.

I've been told 
That envy's the thing I've been feeling
For your kind of work and your play.
But to tell you the truth
That it's only a wish 
For a new kind of day,
When worry and fear melt away.
Could be 
That a day will come
When you just might understand.

I’d like to go away.
And go there to stay.
But I can’t find the way.

So it goes,
But change never really comes easy.
Resistance is felt all around. 
But inevitably something happens
That makes the old ship run aground.
We all stare in awe of what’s found.
Like me you appear to be
Looking for some meaning here.


Baggage

©2021 Raymond M. Jozwiak
from the forthcoming release 'Grains'



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Monday, March 7, 2022

Held Together . . .

There was a time
When I was so unsure 
Of how I would find
My way through tears and trouble.
This big world can
Look so scary 
To a little boy
On his own.

It's held together by your love.
So secure sometimes it's frightening.
The thread connecting
All the right things
That help me to survive.
It's held together by your love.
It's so sure it strikes like lightning
A breeze refreshing
Me when I 
Find that life is cruel.
It's held together by your love

I'm not one to run away
From each little storm.
Only fools refuse assistance
As they're carried downstream in the 
Rushing foam

I look around,
Concerned for much 
I see now.
I may have found
The rare elusive why and how
That everyone keeps searching
For, to bind or mend
All life's loose ends.


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Saturday, March 5, 2022

Watching . . .

 


There’s a boy in a room.
It’s a cavernous room,
With the walls all festooned
With the likenesses of
Sincere and humble, pious faces.

The eyes were watching,
Intently so.
Suspiciously watching,
But they weren’t the eyes
Of some omniscient, single, potent being.
They were the eyes of my fellow man,
And oh the things they did see.

By design or by fate,
From the boy grew the man,
And believing in magic,
Drew his comfort from what 
They called his deep faith
And perseverance.

All those around him
And the vast majority believed
In it too,
So much resembling dependent infancy 
I shudder. Shudder!

As a product of his time,
And of nurture through the years,
He pushed on where his intellect
Showed him how to proceed
Without any invasive deities.
 

Eyes

- from the forthcoming album "Grains" by Ray Jozwiak - Gonzo Piano
 


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