Too soon we forget it is from struggle that phenomenon is born. Not ashes to ashes, but from ashes to the light of the Phoenix. We must allow ourselves to be grounded to this great earth by our uncertain path, pain, and temporary maddening in the face of darkness, panic, and shortness of breath.
Too soon we forget that we only live one life; who are we to live free of the world’s weight on our shoulders, on our heart? It is the journey through the depths of darkness that inspire awe as we bask in the euphoric glow of the sun on our face atop the mountain they said couldn’t be climbed; or at least not by the likes of you.
Great books that tell the stories of better men and women are not written by those who stumble from man to majesty overnight. Our souls cannot be taxed, gain interest, or be deterred: but our souls can be measured by an enduring spirit that claws, scratches, and fights its way from worn knees to two feet, standing before the world, accepting nothing short of another breath lived in pursuit of love, excellence, and even the smallest chance to leave behind a story of their own that inspires a better world; inspires a soul broke and beaten by another man’s conception of what this life ought to be.
We will grow together if we look to one another when we believe it is best for us to crawl in a hole and die. Time, like your heart will keep ticking so do not fear being defeated, we all are; a soul is measured in the moments after absorbing a crushing blow, and the moments after that. You are stronger than you give yourself credit. You are closer to your dreams than you can conceive. And every ounce of you deserves to be happy, embrace yourself, your potential, and your ability to be the inspiration you look for in the world.
Focus like the will of a wand, casting “hocus pocus”
Not spells, but dreams realized that I demand a dose of
Life flows through my veins, while logic sword fights with love and its pain
Early to rise, last to close his eyes: well into a chase that will persist until he dies
Better with inspiration, better with a will, certain with a way
“Condemn him with your worst, world, I promise he’ll go at least one more day”
Your heartbeat lies in his eyes
Your joy uplifts the instant he begins to cry
It is for his pleasure that he seeks the world and its wonder
It is for his soul that he teaches himself how to grow from even the most painful blunder
Without you, he is a man without a mission
Without vision, a man on a mission is a fool without a line fishin’
Together through strength and weakness they possess life and all of its eternity
Together through pain and triumph they asses the lives that neglect what it means to be the best
And in their inadequacies purpose-filled-desire is acquired and should be paid-forward, rather than admired
Admiration is for the helpless
Won’t you stand up and help us?
Won’t you join in the only battle that is worth the lives of our sons and our daughters, brothers and sisters?
You are the common denominator in a riddle that plagues the potential of man as a co-existing and brilliantly unique species
You are the stand that fights not for land or resources, but for happiness and a quality of life that has been eluded to in books, yet absent in reality, for it has been taken by crooks
We depend on each other to believe, that this a fight
We defend one another only when we believe, this is a fight-worth-fighting
This is a call to action: get busy dying, or join the resistance that is uniting.
Thank you for the nomination and award of Perfect Poet, Week 59! “You gotta give a little love, to get a little love.” Noah & the Whale. I have been given this award of for me poem, “For what and whom will you not die, but live for?” Below you will find the poem, as well as the corresponding Shaggy Lamb Session.
“If we do not use our power (resources) for good then we are no better than the evil we wish to oppose.”
By Kevin Alan Lamb
Power bestowed down by the almighty father, to further humanity’s struggle and scour that worsens by the hour if those with the means do not plant seeds of good will and will them to flower
In the earth, in death−it is revealed what we’re worth, those we didn’t help, rather cursed, convincing lies we rehearsed, and the love for our brethren we let disperse
For what and whom have we let goodness slip away?
Photo Credit to Eric Hampton
When a man made of evil dies, an evil man he lies, bearing witness to perception through ice-cold-eyes
Good in a man grows, like water in the Niagra Falls, flows
Without deterrent, love and electricity made current
Evil is a derivation of a deprived accountability for our mistakes and shortcomings
We as a people will scapegoat our breaths away until the last victim child of genocide stops running
We are not failing anyone other than ourselves and our dreams; the child that never learns to read; and a thousand more that wither and waste away because of our greed− they do not feed
Please refrain from telling me what it is that you need, while the once life-filled, turned lifeless, bleed, into our rivers and earth wearing the scarlet letter of we the cursed
Refrain from singing me your song of misappropriated misery because of the dreams you were too lazy to create, and make, be
Refrain your sufferings from insufficient somethings, somebodies, and somedays that never came to pass because of a life lived on your ass, mind in a cast, and heart in a dollar bill that could never quite fill the empty landfill, in the place of your heart, because you neglected those in need from the start, and continued running from your inadequate past
Misery is the only American Dream I know to last
We are falling to pieces without the hindsight of anagnorisis, and will all be the victims if we don’t embrace the beauty and necessity that peace is, if we are unable to donate a piece of, ourselves, and rewrite the ending to the story of how man-kind fell, to tell of an uprising that uplifted spirits, to no longer fear us, but gravitate near us, for with us there is a will, and with a will there is a way, and in prayer there is an indicated foreshadowing of hope, and in hope there may be escaping the site of even the most accurate scope, but hope is not, if we are not, and we will not be unless we take our share of responsibility, in all misery, in this world and the next.