pushy notifications

good morning, time to check the phone
see what I missed while I was sleeping
doesn’t matter if it’s overcast or sunny
my phone lights up by itself

throughout the day I never worry
I won’t miss out on the social media scene while distracted with life
my friends tag and @mention me
and my phone tells me each time

in the middle of something
phone dings and vibrates too
to make sure I don’t miss any notification
I’ll either hear or feel it

all day

I either hear or feel it
I don’t miss notifications, but I do miss life
phone dinging and vibrating
in the middle of everything

and my phone tells me each time
my friends are stupid or clever
and while I’m distracted with the social media scene, I miss out on life
I worry my days will pass me by

I decide to darken my phone
now I notice the clouds and the sun and…
see what I’ve missed while in a phone-coma
good morning, time to set down the phone

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dear self

dear self,

it’s going to be alright in the end
you committed to this, you’ll see it through
even more
He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it
you knew peace and unity before
you’ll know it again

for now
you have a job to do
it’s yours to do because you will do it well
you knew this once
I still know it
so I remind you

remember…
let yourself be carried back
to the beginning of things
when you knew what you could accomplish
and why you were the best one to do it

you still are

look forward…
allow yourself to fly ahead
to the end of things
when you’ll really know what you could accomplish
and why you were the best one to do it

because you did it

then return to the present
may this reminder and this hope
empower you to live today
to accomplish what you were sent to do
in the best way that only you can

you have and you will

sincerely, me

I must make something beautiful

the pain in the world is great

suffering… misery… torture, even

and here I am making a masterpiece

why even bother?

what good will a painting do
while a child is dying?

how can a poem be worth writing
while books are being burned?

who wants to compose music
while the martyrs are screaming?

my ink is blood, sweat, and tears
my palette holds the colors of fire and water
my notes are the heart-cry of tortured souls
because I must make something beautiful from the pain in the world

  

what I wouldn’t give for a rainy day

I should have rehung the curtains last week
the sunlight makes it impossible to sleep
impossible to shut out the world and forget
I don’t need the rest – I slept all night –
I need the escape

what I wouldn’t give for a rainy day
why can’t the sky reflect the gloominess inside?

the light streams through broken blinds
piercing the darkness in my soul
and making me bleed tears

I bury myself in blankets
but that only lasts a few minutes
the sun is not only light, it is also warmth

what I wouldn’t give for a winter storm
why can’t the weather abet the chill of my icy heart?

I need to get out
I wish it were possible to vacate my head
impossible – so I vacate my bed instead
sullenly, I retrieve and hang the curtains
then, not so sullenly, I wander outside