The end of 2014, and the beginning of 2015

Another year, come and gone.  Doesn’t seem like its been so many, but I’ve almost witness forty of them.  So many ups and downs; rights, lefts, and wrongs; and everything in between.  The year of 2014 is hard to sum up in words.  It was a roller coaster to say the least.  I took a break from the blog, landed a job, and Lisa and I started working.

But the job never truly panned out.  We could never get enough hours to truly make it worth it, and when we did work, it was completely nuts.  We had a horrible boss and iffy coworkers.  There were many times we both almost quit, but we stuck through it.  Sometime towards summer though, two things changed....

She's Been There, from the beginning....

“Well there’s a piece of Maria in every song that I sing.
And the price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings.”
– Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby - Counting Crows

Many lyrics over many years have resonated deeply within me, from Counting Crows’ songs especially.  Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby has a few I quote quite a bit, but the one I just quoted above, has a very specific meaning to me....

Language Fails Me

Words are slippery things in the English language.  I have a friend who was in the Navy being a linguist.  Since he had a better understanding of languages, he always said, “English is the best language in the world.”  Personally, I disagree.

I disagree on many points.  The fact is, I cannot say many things without some string of adjectives in front of it to define what the heck it is I’m trying to say.  I think that’s pretty dumb.  I can’t tell someone I love them as a friend, without tacking on a bunch of stuff, because if I don’t tack on that crap, then suddenly I’m in love and my entire marriage is in jeopardy.

A Crossed Line of Racism

It’s truly hard to make it through the day without offending someone in today’s society.  I mean…seriously, just look at how the internet is these days.  People just launch into other people, trolling every aspect of online life.  A few months ago, I posted a sarcastic comment on a Facebook discussion, hoping to get a chuckle.  The owner of the thread exploded, hardcore, with a rant a couple of paragraphs long about childishness and civility.

They are one to talk, though….  Over the past year or so, I’ve started noticing a frightening trend, and I hate to say it made me realize something about myself.  Let’s start there, actually, on the inside.

(poem) - The Age of Rust

What is left for us
Those who dwell in the rust

Days pass by and still we persist
Its almost as if, we are still trying to resist

People still call it ‘The Man’
Because its all part of the Machine’s plan

Its rolling and churning
Doing nothing but destroying

Collecting money for itself
Putting all its riches upon the shelf

We all help it along
Even if you do nothing but smoking a bong

Because it feeds off all of us
In one way or another, in god we trust

What hope is there for a better tomorrow
I feel the death of us in my bone’s marrow

It gives me aches and pains
As fear seeps in, destroying memories within my brain

Is the past the thing I remember
Or did I gloss it all over in November?

I stare into the mirror’s reflection
And fear my face’s deep set aggression

For there is nothing but hatred within my eyes
For those that tell all the lies

Because lies are what got us here
Kiss all the rich people’s rears

We are nothing but the cobble stones
That led them all to there hedonistic thrones

Luckily there is a special place in hell
For all those that poisoned the well

Because poisoned it has become
In this existence that is nothing but bedlam

We strive and strive for things we can’t have
For our wounds, there is no salve

So go out and slave away
At minimum wage all day

As the people above your boss
Reap all the benefits of the life you’ve lost

While I ponder what is left for the rest of us
As well dwell in the Age of Rust.

--Dan

--Want more Poetry?  Check out my Poetry Collection Page!