Write something

Don’t forget to write. Something, anything. Set the pen to the paper and let the rhythm of your mind do the rest. It’s simply not that hard, just let it happen. Though I should warn you there is a chance you’ll end up reaching deep inside and pull on the strings you’ve tucked away. And that’ll hurt, fortunately the resulting beauty is always more powerful than the pain. Don’t forget to write, Because in the end the words will escape somehow. Don’t forget to write. Because at least this way you still have some control over what the words say.

Peace, Love, and Happiness…

–Joe

Before the Tempest

Stand on the verge of the precipice

Prepare for what is to come.

In my heart I hope that I am ready

a storm rising in the West,

a wind in the valley below,

the results of a tumultuous spring

Again waging the revolution of life.

See the crash of light,

and the Fearsome dance goes on,

the inevitable Fight of time

Immovable forces forever tumble in the night

the risk is real, exposed as I am

unnoticeable to the tempest

Still I remain, standing here

taunting the beasts I face

“Is that all you can do?!”


Peace, Love, and Happiness…

–Joe

dare to dream

We exist in an absurd world,

constantly at odds with ourselves;

life itself becomes a remarkable feat.

yet still,

we dare to dream in the face of it all.

Knowing full well dreams rarely come true.

And that,

that is the courage the world so desperately needs.

Each pivotal moment in history is led

not only by doers, lost in the present

but by those who turn ideas into reality.

that’s why I ask you to live for today,

hope for tomorrow,

and never, never stop dreaming.

Always choose to Be more.

Peace, Love, and Happiness…

–Joe

To the Last

Author’s note: This is another post in my collection of micro fiction. I write these pieces to remind myself that I really need to work on my dialogue skills…

After spending the last of his energy. Having fought to the best of his ability. All that remained was to wait. Though not for long, a dull sound rising in his ears. A combination of the pounding in his chest, and the tread of his enemies approaching. “I know that sound,” he whispers. No doubt in his mind of the battle soon to occur. No doubt that he would raise his weapon one last time. Never forgetting why he began. The ideals he stands for need a champion to the last. To go quietly was never an option, death too must be earned it seems. Struggling to his he squares his shoulders, “They know who I am. Let them come if they have the courage.”

Peace, Love, and Happiness…

–Joe

Days of Gold

These are the days of Gold

Days of Love & Loss

of Triumph & Failure

These are the days

we’ll remember when old.

These are the nights of Joy

nights of Song & Laughter

of Life & Conversation

These are the nights

we’ll forever live for.


This was a piece I had written a good while back and just never knew what to do with. I had held on to the stanzas above telling myself they weren’t ready that they needed something more. my perspective was changed the other day while on the train. A man with a guitar in a knapsack and a message of love and hope hopped on. After having played a few Bob Marley songs and leaving his impact, he left, presumably to play for another train full of people.

Right then and there something clicked. It was wrong of me to withhold “Days of Gold.” It’ll never be finished; it’ll never be ready. All that matters is the willingness to be vulnerable. So anyway, go make something you love, and then give it way for the sake of someone else.

Peace, Love, and Happiness…

–Joe

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Status Quo

Your silence is deafening

does it help you see?

If so, your actions scream indifference.

How could you witness this,

and not do anything?

.

I understand The fear.

the Fear of fronting the wrong words

Is that who you are?

A man forever positioned

by the primal force of fear

.

No! I believe you can Be more

you are well-versed

in the ways of refined words

Yet your silence permeates your soul

You choose to not declare a single thought.

.

Tradition holds silence as a form of consent,

permission to the status quo

are you absolutely Fine with that?

Yes, Each word we choose has an impact

though not nearly the power of our silence.


Peace, Love, and Happiness…

–Joe

the “almost” hiatus

I almost quit writing. I almost sat down and typed out a post that entailed a hiatus I planned to take. Almost. My reasoning was that my writing had gone to crap. That I had failed in both quality and frequency. In recent months the decline has been noticeable and it was mirrored by a lack of reading. My plan was to leave you until after the new year. To read intensively and purposefully, only writing if I simply could not contain the thought. I don’t know what changed but the words began to flow again. I still lack the quality, but the passion for this art has returned. I realized that to not write would be a betrayal to the person who I was when I began. To not write would allow a poison to creep into my heart. The corruption that comes from the path of least resistance. So I will continue to write, I will make time for literature again, and I will not quit. And though I will never write for you, my audience, know that I appreciate you being here.

Peace, Love, and Happiness…

–Joe

hiatus

Ode to Kerouac

There is a highway that stretches the breadth of this nation. Along it you will find the hopes and dreams of four generations. Drive it and you will pass though both great metropolitans and one-horse towns. You will witness monuments to days long gone and the construction of days yet to come. Utilized by agriculture, industry, and the entrepreneur alike. Yet truly appreciated by a miniscule few. This highway creates issues contested by legislators. Though somehow it unites us as a people. This open highway could always take me home, instead my heart follows it ever onward.

Peace, Love, and Happiness…

–Joe

highway

the Man & the Moon

¶Here’s to the traveler on the long road

growing weary with the passing miles

His to ponder and smoke

His to pace and listen

the moon his guide, he ever presses forward

 

¶Here’s to the student deep in his books

looking towards a future yet to come

Regret and worry pursue him

Rain and doubt assail him

the moon grows faint, and his hope is the daybreak

 

¶Here’s to the lover lost in another’s eyes

patiently waiting the words to say

Stars and laughter his currency

Songs and whispers his language

with the moon as witness, a love always remains

 

¶Here’s to the tale that goes on

of the Man and the Moon

ever companions in it all


Peace, Love, and Happiness…

–Joe

beautiful chaos

chaossuntzu

Last night at 11:53pm I glanced at the clock and had one of those moments that are hard to explain. Maybe it’s existentialism, or maybe it’s sleep deprivation. Regardless, at 11:53pm last night I had to stop and ask, “what in the world am I doing with myself?!” Let’s paint the picture. I’m sitting on the edge of a futon in my small, dimly-lit bedroom. Next to me is a cast aside textbook that was explaining the evolution of the correctional system from the Code Hammurabi onward. In the background some French pop artist is singing extremely fast about love an death or something. I was sitting there trying, somewhat unsuccessfully, to write a blog post. my laptop was open in front of me and I had several tabs running. One was a Wikipedia article on Andrew Sullivan. Another was an op-ed on why too much democracy creates a breeding ground for tyranny. On Youtube there was a clip from the movie Dead Poet’s Society. And the finally a poem from the 17th century telling virgins what to do with their time. And I know, none of that is overtly important. my illustration is to show you the chaos of that moment. The clock read 11:55pm before I realized what had caused me pause. The beautifully chaotic moments that I regularly allow into the inner sanctum of my life, the one’s that I honestly enjoy, are accurate visualizations of my mind. my hope in sharing this with you is that maybe you’ll understand me a bit more. maybe you’ll understand that when I write excitedly in a ranting tone it’s spurred on  by a false urgency of so many thoughts. And maybe if you’re someone I interact with in my life and you ever encounter me silent know that it’s not because I have nothing to say. Rather it’s because I see a dozen thought processes spiraling out and I can’t seem to pick the correct one fast enough. I am constantly searching for a single thread amongst the chaos. I don’t always find it, but every day I continue the search.

Peace, Love, and Happiness…

–Joe

chaos

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