Yesterday, while working on an art project, I shook a few words out and wrote a poem, the title of this sketch is the first group of words that started it… It’s funny how my day became hi-jacked by a few words…all my plans came to a screeching halt to make time to follow the word crumbs and make sense of it. Does it make sense, or is it nonsense… I’m too close to it right now to judge with certainty, maybe another day I’ll turn on the critical eye.
Anyway – here it is (and like the sketch, it’s a bit raw, and I’m sure it will be cleaned up and such over the course of time.)
*******
I always wanted more out of life,
My peculiar whims allowed me
to become accustomed to
conflict — I remember those times
when the dream failed
to make eye contact with
reality—(laughs a little laugh)
yeah, it can happen to anyone.
Disappointments lead to compromises
made. Get on with it—whatever
“it” is—that “It” can be anything.
Listen, I’m being ambiguous
on purpose—cuz it’s not about
me, it’s not about you,
it’s about anyone, anything—
You make up your own story,
inclusive as opposed to exclusive.
We all have dreams—great
expectations that are ours to
a fault—hey, allow for some wiggle
room to keep regrets at bay. Have a
plan to fall back on—shit has a way
of happening—always unexpected.
Damn—reality is too real some days
more than others—harshing on my
mellow metaphorical bullshit. When
dreams and realities meet, they can
shake hands, clap one another on the back,
maybe they clash—fisticuffs exchanged; they
bump shoulders in the hallway, sizing each other
up. They may send a long-distance stink eye
or they may nod their acquaintance with polite
acknowledgment or they may pass like ships in
the night, no harm done—
LJWR 11/12/2022
The multitude of fitted sheet memes—
Laura J. W. Ryan 