Unfound

 I couldn't find that thing I was looking for.
coming short after opeing every door
Many came to my aid.
To correct each mistake i made.

I just stood there clueless my temples throbbed.
Not completely knowing what i needed for the job.
In the end the list of instructions was incomplete.
I thought my time there would be fleeting.

Every cabin was overstocked with things I didn't need.
The board was written with last weeks tasks and deeds.
Everyone knew where they were, what they were doing.
I could hear that laugh, but I was too busy moving.

Again that daunting feeling of incompetence rose to sour my life.
The breakfast was laid out, I didn't have time for a slice.
As I racked my mind for the next best course of action.
All my abilities and resources made me feel a complete lack.

I found the answers and relaxed carefree while I showed the way forward.
There was no right place there was no perfection or immediate reward.

Bannock sturdy for Christ

 Plain in the only way I am.
For they had proclaimed I- simple Simon.
For if only that were true.
I am plagued by an army of demons.
So I appeal to the big big...

I put on a strong display but I struggle to strengthen the rest of me.
I seek food in what is real, not by excess.
Steady me because I feel ridiculous.
Calm me because my mind runs wild.
Wholesome, but I am pulled sideways.
Direct me, because I am scattered.

See me fully, including the parts I judge harshly.
See my words and their roots their holy innuendos, Lord God Look here!
Take the sting out of my self-mockery, take the expectation out of me.
Turn embarrassment into humility, and humility into strength.
Give my spirit enough bread for today, enough courage, enough clarity.

This honest work,

 clean thought,

 measured action,

 loyalty, patience, creation.

Sturdy in spirit, soft in heart, clear in mind.

The currency inside

 On and off.
God puts my soul back in
Like a credit card paying.
Then withdrawls it again.

I would like to be the value.
Wherever it may go.
Blessed and whole,
On some great trajectory.

I must curate this path,
Sometimes molding the pavers myself.
Under the sun,
making my way to building something.

How many of you readers never feel your value?
You may not ever be able to measure your worth.
The worth we carry in ourselves is arbitrary.
The value others put on us, capricious.

So sometimes in the most silent of whispers.
I listen with all of my capacity,
As God says to me straight,
Believe in yourself.

Power Oversurge

 I'm building up, I'm walking forward.
I'm bringing the intangible into heart as energy.
Collaborate and flow through me.

Tickle my veins, live through me.
Follow me until I perish.
Smash through these walls.

Crack the stone of all resistance.
Part it all into fragments.
So that i can see the other side.

Lift me propel me forward.
I have my target and soul intact.
The rough nature of the world sustains me.

Reach for strength.
Reach for oxygen for I'm breathless.
These legs keep sprinting.

I heartless, I keep pumping...

City gone, affection and routine

 The city disappeared.
There is no affection in the world.
Only distrust and friends with their own personal interests.

Everything requires caring for.
The world is one fat suction cap.
The thing you want and go on wanting.

The city disappeared overnight.
Just your house, just your street that remained.
People are unpredictable easily influenced.

Now they are gone and the building flattened.
Routines exist to be followed.
Rebuild the city? Reinvent yourself?

Pets are fed and surfaces are cleaned.
There is no affection and the city is nonexistant
Your on your own.

That Jiggy prestige

 The pub disco has been going for fifty years.
When the uniforms were brown and yellow.
The food had no taste, the whills were wild with animals and dense forest.
I pulled the photo of the school principal from that time.
A bald headed middle aged man that matched the man standing infront of me.
Still jigging to the seventies music.
Still trying to inspire the shy teenagers, pushing them to get up and dance.

Using his stupid incentives and everything was done to get them on the dance floor.
Everyday liquid from the same spiked punch bowl.
Prom lab fix attempts at that maximum prestige.
Nothing changes and the clock resets to a sunny six pm as they all arrive.
The music didn't change, the silly vehicles toing and froing.
Nothing existed outside of the obligation to dance.
The bar in this reality is now a real estate brokers.

But in the dimension it sits in, it is the senior graduates nonstop Prom dive.

Holiday at altitude

 Afternoon in Cunha 19 of April.
Sunny picturesque cloud surrounds the far hills.
Eyes always seek somewhere else to be.
But just be here in this grass.
In this hobby rolling holiday headspace.

But there it is again a far off forest.
A house on the side of the hill.
Distracting the immediate blue.
Westerly comes in conspiring with autumn shade.
I would like to know myself after a thousand years of existence.

I see these hours and days floating away...
I see the way the sun mocks me in the sky like that.
He knows he'll stay active and potent for eons.
The westerly bites again I put my jacket on.
There's some magical place for each nostalgic notion.