When there's nothing else to say- you poem it!

So I know that I need to write. Only- I don't know what to write. My interests are far too varied to focus in on any one thing, as some other bloggers do- which works to my advantage and my disadvantage. On the one hand, I feel like I can write on any number of topics- which keeps you, the reader, in constant suspense. The suspense is constant, right? On the other hand, with a singular focus, there can be a driving passion that spurs one on towards that one, singular goal, which can make it easier to press on in those times when motivation and time are lacking.

I know that I need to write, because I feel like it's my connection to my soul. Writing helps me to know that I'm alive, in my mind. I write to unscramble the labyrinth of thoughts in my head- to lay hold of the man that I know that I am, and yet somehow am not. Right now, it's just not happening. Call it hangover, call it backsliding- but I know that I can be so much more than I am, and while the circumstances of my life might be static, my mind should be constantly be moving forward. Right now- I'm not there.

This song and dance is tired, and I know that I've repeatedly chronicled this struggle in this very blog- the desire to write, the absence of writing, the whys of the absence of writing, and the plan to move forward. I realize that every time I do this, I lose credibility. My retort to that is- this is a blog. A blog written by me. How much credibility did I even have to start with?

In some ways, I bask in the glory of my failures. I am proud of myself for being able to pick myself up off the carpet, grab the 'top, and start hammering the keys, even as the aftertaste from my latest serving of humbled pie is still lingering in your mouth.

I'm not going to use this blog as a springboard into more production. There will be no 'I'm going to write X times about Y thing' statements, or anything like that. I need to write more- this I know- I just don't know when or how that's going to happen. But I'm going to keep giving it what I got. Some days, that might mean that the beer will flow like wine. Other days- I will be phoning it in. But either way- I will still be me- a 31 year old married father with a social work degree, a part-time society job, and an affinity for entertainment. A normal guy that is trying to figure out what life is all about.

Sorry you had to read all that internal monologue that spilled out on the page. Really the only thing I wanted to do was to post a poem that I wrote. It was written as a submission for a Social Work journal (there is another one that I will post later this week- maybe even tomorrow!). I won't know until Marchish if they will be published- but even if they don't, I'm pretty proud of them. Unless they suck- and then I will probably delete this post from existence.

Anyways, without further adieu, here is my poem. I hope you enjoy it- and if you hate it, I hope you keep your mouth shut.

Portrait of a Humanity

I am just like you

I am nothing like you

I am light

I am dark

I love

I hate

When you fall, I will pick you up

When you fall, I will kick you.

I give the children good gifts

I give the children scorpions

I hug them

I hit them

I bought her flowers

I smashed the vase

I am simple

I am complex

I work hard

I am lazy

I’m driven

I’m listless

I have the world in my hand

I have the world against me

I am sacred

I am secular

I am safe

I am reckless

I build

I destroy

I am strong

I am weak

I am me

And I am you

And we are humanity