Monthly Archives: October 2013

Thirteen

Would that I had seen this fate
at four and twenty two.

Would I still have breathed the fire
that set my life in stone?

A pearl that made from grains of sand,
dark and tightly spun;

A spiral twist of tears and man,
forever all alone.

A damn poor gem if truth be told
and why would I not say

those things that came so hard to me;
high cost for empty soul.

Thirteen days and thirteen lies
had found me at my end.

I had sought to keep inside
a power I could not hold.

Tell me now o’ lonely one,
hold me to my truth.

Is this thing that you now see,
is this the dream you chose

when you had wished and you prayed
to all the gods above

for better things and sweet life;
a fairy tale of old?

I know not now who I was
or who I could have been.

Now I just walk upon this road
of dust and buried bones.

© 2013 Stephen Boothe

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Is This The Real Life?

My son and I recently had a discussion about the nature of reality.

He had asked me to view a video concerning the universe as a separate entity existing apart from our perception. The premise being that the universe only exists in its present form due to the image our perception provides with input from our senses.

He asked me if the world and everything we knew was really ‘real’. He wondered if everything he perceived was a product of his mind with him the only real being and everything and everyone else part of his manufactured world view.

Solipsism is a difficult concept to grasp, especially for a fourteen year old. I can remember having those same thoughts at an early age although maybe not quite so young as my son. I gave him my thoughts on the universe and perception and left him to form his own conclusions about the nature of reality and his part in the big picture.

Afterwards I thought about the long road I had traveled to arrive at my current belief system. I wondered where his path would take him and what sort of belief system would he find that fit his needs, temperament, and world view.

I’ve never been a parent that purposely tried to install a particular belief system into my children, preferring to guide them in learning acceptable behavior for society, giving them opportunity to discover the world on their own as much as possible, and letting them find their own place in the universe.

And that is a part of my reality.


Love

And if I take
to the sky,
would you follow,
would you die

for me?

And if I sing
sorrow’s song,
would you feel,
would you cry

for me?

And if I stay
in your life,
would you love,
would you lie

for me?

And if I die
in my time,
would you live,
would you try

for me?

© 2013 Stephen Boothe


Ch Ch Ch Changes…

I have decided to yet again make some changes in my blog.

I wonder … is there an underlying pathology in my desire to constantly change? Is it a desire to keep moving? an innate disquiet for the here and now? or simply a desire to find the elusive thing which can never be obtained. I can not know at this point in my life.

But that being said, here is the news. I have, up to now, posted my poetry on pages rather than posts and, not to get into the intricacies of WordPress, have decided to post them as, well, posts. It works for me and that is the whole point. I’ve always known that this blog is about finding and completing myself as much as I am able.

So, beginning with my last poem, it is to the real time stream of consciousness we go.

Peace, love, and good wine.


Wednesday Morning and I Feel Fine

I went to a local event last night held weekly in our city.

It is called Keep It Local Tuesday. There are a group of us that choose a local Mom & Pop establishment and we meet there for food, conversation, and all around fun. It is a good way to stay connected and to give support to small local business. I had a very good time and, as always, saw some friends I knew and made some new friends.

In the blogging world, or at least in my little part of it, I’ve posted a new poem, Thirteen, and also put up a couple of new videos that I really like. Check them out here.

Until next time.


Introvert Is Not A Four Letter Word

I am an introvert. And I am okay with that.

For a long time, I thought about that as a negative attribute. Extroverts were outgoing, fun, well-rounded individuals that everyone loved and introverts were shy, reserved, and generally non-participating outcasts.

How wrong I was.

Once I learned to embrace the nature of my being, I knew I could be as vibrant, happy, and exuberant as just about anyone … but only on my terms.

Want to know more us introverts and what makes us tick? Check this article by Nico Lang; he nails it.


Wine, Music, and Sunshine

I went to my first wine festival today.

A local winery, Kiepersol Estates, held their annual wine festival and grape stomp today and a friend and I attended. The weather was decent, a little on the chilly side early on, but the sun was out and it was a beautiful day. Having never been to an event like this, I didn’t know what to expect, but I was not disappointed.

There was music, there was wine tasting, and there was a tour of the facilities. If you’ve never been to one of these, you should find one and go.

Wine, music, and sunshine.

I love my life!


Reprints

I’ve added a couple of poems that I had written some time ago and that were previously published.

Breathless was published in a seldom seen anthology of love poetry … yes I write the occasional love poem… and Leviathan was published in an online poetry webzine called Snakeskin.

Both are short and to the point. I don’t tend to be wordy in real life or in my poetry.

 


Barbarians at the Bleachers

I like football.

Specifically, I like American style NFL football. I have since I was a young boy. I still remember watching ‘Dandy’ Don Meredith and the Dallas Cowboys when they began to really dominate the NFL.

I watched them and cheered for them whether they won or lost. I’ve watched them over the years as they changed players, coaches, and stadiums. Some years they were great and some years they were mediocre. Some years they were downright lousy. Didn’t matter; I still rooted for them to win.

What I didn’t do was cheer when one of their players was injured.

I’ve also been a Houston fan. Early on it was the Oilers and now the Texans. If you follow football, you may know that Houston’s quarterback, Matt Schaub, has been having several rough weeks. Maybe he is in a funk, maybe it is something else, but his play has been far from stellar.

Will he right his ship and get back on course? I think so. But that is beside the point.

It has been reported that a number of Texans fans cheered when their starting quarterback was injured after being sacked by Rams defensive end Chris Long.

WTH?

When did it become accepted or even considered to cheer when your own player gets injured? Now I get that some people wanted him to be benched in favor of one of the backups, but this is unconscionable.

Have people become that uncaring of their fellow human beings as to celebrate misfortune? Do they want to win so bad that they are willing for people to get hurt in order to possibly improve that chance? It’s hard to fathom.

Perhaps it is due to the current state of society. A society so depressive on the human spirit that any lengths would be taken to achieve a sense of accomplishment, even if vicariously gotten through a win by a favored sports team at the expense, or more appropriately the sacrifice, of one of said teams players.

This is a sad commentary on modern man.


Vivid Dreams and The Other Life I Live

I have vivid dreams.

I’m not certain as to when these started, only that it was sometime in my early childhood. Several of these dreams are not only vivid but also recurring.

One of the earliest dreams I can remember, and this goes back to when I was less than ten, seems rather innocuous on the face of it but it terrified me as a child. It was very simple. In my dream was a huge rubber band and something was stretching it tighter and tighter and thinner and thinner. I could feel it about to break and the anticipation was horrifying. I don’t know that I ever knew what the consequences would be should it finally break, only that those consequences would be extremely dire to me.

After several years that dream occurred less and less frequently and eventually faded away to never return. It is one of the most vivid dreams I recall ever having.

Another dream which also reoccurred for many years found me in a huge house of many rooms. There were many hallways and stairs along with hidden passageways. In this dream I was searching for some hidden secret which I don’t recall ever finding. I still don’t know the nature of the secret but I knew it was very important and would tell me many things that I should know. One odd facet of this dream was that, every time I had this dream, the house was always the same and I seemed to get closer and closer to the room with the hidden secret.

This dream also faded after a while but did come back many years later after I was an adult. The series that occurred when I was an adult had me living in the house for a while, still trying to find its secret. At some point in my adult dreams, I had moved out of the house and it was eventually demolished. I’ve never had the dream since.

In my late twenties and early thirties, I began having dreams in which I would see myself; not as in looking in a mirror but as a separate person. The even stranger part of the dream was that the other me was older, maybe late forties or early fifties. I would always find my other self living in an upstairs apartment over a garage that had no vehicles parked inside. My other self had a slender youngish woman living with him who I would talk with at times. I never talked to my other self or confronted him face to face as he would either be sleeping when I arrived or, on a couple of occasions, would be just leaving as I walked in the front. All I ever had gotten was fleeting glances of my other self yet somehow I knew it was me.

At some point in the last ten or fifteen years, all my vivid dreams had stopped. It’s hard to pin down exactly when. One day I realized they just seemed to be gone and had been gone for some time. In fact, I realized that I had trouble recalling any dreams whatsoever.  It was odd because, although the vivid dreams were often disquieting, I missed them in a way.

But then I woke about a week ago and still had a fleeting memory of a very vivid series of dreams that previous night. I couldn’t recall the details but I knew it was a vivid dream. I felt and hoped they were back.

I know it sounds odd to say I hoped they were back but I also know they were a part of my life that somehow felt important. It is almost as if there is another me that had gone missing and had finally turned up after a long absence. They feel good. I seem to have slept better when I’ve had a lucid dream. I feel more balanced and I feel more whole in my waking life when the other me is around.

Yes, life is strange but then that is where the beauty lies.


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