Let ’em Know When The Party’s Over

I kinda want one of those sarcastic banners I’ve seen in a meme somewhere-

A string of gold letters that usually says something like

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY”

or

“CONGRATULATIONS”

but instead it says

“PLEASE LEAVE BY 9”

Yes. Perfect.

It’s been a cathartic, nostalgic space for my mind lately
as every turn of the year compels me to rewind and review
the last 365ish spins of the Earth –

As the cosmos rotate around our skies I recall
so many more Earth spins before,
when I was having ‘mind parties’ and heard knocks on the door –

All the homies came through with gifts and fun things,
some of them had horns on their heads, hoofs for feet, or huge, bat-like wings-

Badass mfs who like their music bumping, minds wavy, and their lettuce dank,
Stomping on the floor with me, getting the neighbors mad, making the whole hallway stank,
Music getting loud, ganja getting louder,
Bass vibrations emulating such a buzz that the friction made an old lady downstairs drop and spill her hot bowl of clam chowder,

Louder – my mind’s house got even crowded,

LOUDER – more otherworldly party animals found it,
LOUDER!! – I shared my location with my multiversal wild ones,
Passing all the fun around until 8:59, but,
Me and my demons go all the way back, jack,
So I’ve sat them down before and set some clear boundaries –

They know when it’s time to have fun and make scary sounds, but,
When I tell ’em it’s the last call, they know to turn it down, and
Get a broom and mop and clean up all the mess,
Cuz, there’s no point to partying if you don’t get any rest,
nothing to celebrate if you don’t work hard enough to pass your life’s tests.

I always liked the idea to “Treat death like a friend,” from Harry Potter the Deathly Hallows,

I have my own angle to add, though –

Have fun in life, party with your demons, but, let’ em know when the party’s over.

My winged, scary-looking friends know the deal –


The time has come to help me clean up this place and “Until next time,” I tell them, “It’s been real.” – RSM

Breathe Vol. 2

Been there and back but the panic attacks clap with the sound of deep thunder and return with the whiplash of a well-thrown boomerang,

Random and abrupt these emotions emerge, the flood’s surge suffocates, a work-stoppage in my mind and I’m unable to produce words

Energy sparks like a super saiyan transformation, but all the wild hair and screaming is on the inside,

‘Alive and well’ turns to a silent hell at the blink of an eye’s notice,

The day’s events’ recap just kindles the flames, stimulating the flight/fight response, my

Heart rate goes off the charts, looking just
like this poem, when you rotate your screen 90 degrees to the left –

Engaged in a battle with the heavy, inner winds, but I win all these bouts when I just follow the first letter of every line, and remember to breathe. – RSM

The Sculptor

A chisel and hammer stammer with the speed and clamor
of a hand driven jackhammer –
and the artist, the handler
is precise as he is impatient,
sparring with the marble slab to carve a sacred new representation.

The stone was flown in from the doldrums over in Moldova, and
he’s crafting a goddess – so graceful, so flawless.

His hands cultivate a muted peace while fighting against time;
unfocused energy heads up his spine,
increasing his heart rate
with each imperfect puncture of the stone he molds
.

As somebody once told,
it’s the work done preparing for the future that makes us old;

He make these fine cuts and chisel away.

He sculpts his dreams into the waking day. – RSM

Seven Years Later

It all worked out, despite the odds.

It’s on me to keep the good going.

A setback or two has no place in my mind

cuz I crush those with one hand now, without even trying.

The strength gained from it all isn’t seen on the physical,

Rather a strong mind, soul, my ‘guns’ are metaphysical –

I love the love that I have, it’s a skill

that’s built through the storms of life, even still,

I know our lives are a painting or a novel unfinished

as we look back on our bad times when we felt diminished;

But trust me, my guy, my ‘rock bottom’ is a flex

Cuz I know the grit and grime it took to manifest

The present, past, future that rises each morning,

Seven years later I’m not just flying, I’m soaring. – RSM

Life is Funny

How many mountains so we have to climb

to finally feel worthy of a little bit of time to unwind?

How many victories require a tax?

How many little breaks ended up bringing us back?

How often does a good life moment have some heavy fine print?

How do the happiest times turn to shit?

How does a celebration end up a challenge?

How do emo songs at midnight once again become valid?

How does paradise come with a catch?

How are we to face this? How are we to act?

How many little tricks does life like to play, and what do we make of it all, anyway?

– RSM

The Corners That We’ve Turned

We don’t often realize how sharp, nor round
were the corners that we’ve turned,
such feats, so unfound.

It’s only when we glance in the rearview mirror
that we see the long road behind us – then it becomes clearer.

The beaten pavement, faded, lined with trees
weave a long, winding set of all of our memories
that we forget to recall, like when friends became enemies
or that scene in Finding Nemo where he can’t say ‘anemone.’

We’re caught up in the present, racing against some kind of clock,
hugging that highway divider wall, but it’ll bring you to a stop
when you look back at the journey that brought you to this moment –
our lives have been our own path to create
as we find our true selves in each curve of the road, and
we don’t know much more about the way going forward,
but, slowing down, and looking back, provides a renewed focus.

You don’t often realize how sharp, nor round
were the corners that you’ve turned,
until you look back
at the map that you’ve crafted, so detailed, hand-drawn,
a trajectory travelled from our first few notes until the end of our very last song.

We’re so busy trying to hit the right notes that we forget to sing our own praises,
so smile back at the road behind you, no matter how beaten, no matter how faded. – RSM

Seven Haikus About Life, And Stuff.

‘Beauty’ is the air

between your eyes and the things

and people you love.

Important moments

pass by so quickly, that we

replay them ’til death.

Intimate moments

with oneself are works of art:

Powerful. Priceless.

Life is a dancefloor,

ballroom dance moves are the norm.

I like pop-and-lock.

Staggering to think

how many realities

we’ve made, and destroyed.

It’s hard to maintain

a peaceful flow, like water,

but fires are no match.

Understanding you

is your most important skill.

You are worth your time. – RSM

Taking My Younger Self With Me.

I tried to start writing this a little differently- ‘Breaking up with my problematic, younger self was the hardest’ – but it didn’t fit in the title line of Samsung Notes, so I had to rethink things.

I came up with what you see above, and it makes a lot more sense to me. I can’t ‘break up’ with any part of myself from the past, no matter how hard I’ve tried. I can’t compartmentalize and characterize parts of my life as ‘not-me’ – even though some things from the past aren’t ‘me’ now, they definitely were at some point.

There’s no value in looking back at life and criticizing your former self – that ‘former’ self is still you. Turn that hindsight criticism on its head. Never mind thinking of how much a (insert insult) you were or how embarrassed you feel revisiting a particular moment. Celebrate your ‘phases,’ your regrets. They’ve made you who you are, as you are, right here and now.

These awkward, regrettable, reckless, cringe-worthy times of our lives have gotten us through every present moment of our lives right up to the present.

I try to remember this sentiment and the road in between ‘then’ and now. I try to love and smile at my memories, even of the things I’m not proud of. Who else will learn from your past mistakes, but you? Who else knows your deepest secrets, deepest memories, but you?

Celebrate and love these things. Regrets, grief, always bring sadness. They’re also opportunities to triumph, and turn hard times of the past into strength, by way of honesty, courage, and vulnerability.

Do not shame yourself for having lived a life with mistakes. Love yourself and take your younger self with you, and through your wiser, more seasoned eyes, you can go forward in the world as one. – RSM

Nine Haikus.

Reality shows

remind me that there are worse

ways to live my life.

 

Demetri Martin

is a good comedian.

he is so damn weird.

 

Haikus are world known.

Same format, content changes.

Haikus are like memes.

 

Somewhere in this world,

dial-up internet is

connecting to porn.

 

I bet you I’ve slept

more in the last month then all

of this year combined.

 

Clouds before the storm.

A warning of the intense

onslaught to follow.

 

Fire breathes with air,

wind carries flames across land,

and rain ends it all.

 

Haikus on nature

are so extremely cliche.

I really just can’t.

 

The universe has

karma. A boomerang, with

a sense of humor.

Déjà vu and The Checkpoint Theory

I don’t take déjà vu lightly.

Every few days, or more so, it tends to be a relived memory

of the present moment. What? How can that be?

 

Non-sensical, yeah, but I know what I see and how it feels to me.

Déjà vu – ‘already seen,’ that’s what it means,

When it happens to me it reminds me of something I saw

and forgot, almost always from a recent scene in my dreams.

 

It’s been a lifelong thing –

random, no warning, gone after 10 seconds, it seems,

It could be anything – significant, mundane, forgettable, serene,

but it stands out to me, because somehow I know

it’s something that I’ve ‘already seen.’

 

Here’s the thing, though,

I tend to have more often of a frequent déjà vu occurence

more often during eventful life phases, or moments

where I know something big in my is life occurring, and

whether I’ve dreamed it and forgot, or not, I know that

I’ll remember these times – the unique, the important,

the very good and the very bad, the celebrations, and the burdens.

 

I’ve been seeing things happen more so that I’ve already seen,

but haven’t yet occured, and it hits me all at once as the scene

unfolds – the lines between reality and dreams get blurred,

and no matter how absurd,

I’ve started to think, maybe these moments mean something,

like, if important things are like rain, then déjà vu is like the fog,

and if life is a clock, then each déjà vu moment is a little cog.

 

Each moment relived as it happens is a benchmark, a passed test,

a little piece of the story along the way to the next day and the next,

like a checkpoint in a video game, where you can save from,

knowing you’re on your journey, further along,

and you still know where you came from; but for some reason,

 

that song you just heard for the first time sounds so familiar,

and that time I walked past that house on that street,

and looked at it for the first time,

that feeling I got almost knocked me off my feet,

an overwhelming, mysterious truth – like,

before I got there, I already knew what it looked like.

 

It’s always a little freaky, at first, but after the moment passes,

I just take a deep breath, clean my glasses, and feel at peace,

that this is the next step in life that I’ve just reached.

 

The powers that be, the forces we can’t see, it feels like

they’re showing me I’m in the right time and place,

my body, mind, and soul, traveling in a harmonious space-

perhaps just an instinct I have, but I see it as a hand to guide me.

I don’t take déjà vu lightly. – RSM