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Thoughts from the Throne!

/ M.Hatter / Leave a comment

In light of Kamala’s new and exciting book, I wanted to post a warm greeting and a thought that came to me while on the porcelain throne:

Hello, friends. Today is today, and it is important that we are all here… together… in this moment that we are having, because moments are the building blocks of days, and days become weeks, which become months, which, of course, make up the years that we live.

And so, when we greet each other, we are not just saying ‘hi’—we are acknowledging the connection of human beings, in community, on this platform, with friends who are, indeed, friends.

Thank you

The Weight of Mistakes

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People learn from their mistakes—or so they should.

But do they really?

Your mistakes come in the form of margin calls, bills to be paid,
or some thug named Louie who visits,
when you’re not expecting.

Or do you?

Your penance? Loose change. Rattling in pockets.
Heavy enough to notice. Too light to break a window.

But forgiving—
Ah, well now,
that’s the real trick.

You have to realize Jack…

Forgiveness, It isn’t a gift for you.

It’s a key for them,
a ticket back from their own bleak exile,
a rope thrown down a well
where they sit, doing nothing but staring upward with empty hands,
drowning in the echoes of what they did.

Regret is a parasite, how cliché,
burrowing, gnawing,
eating a man from the inside out.

That parasite can be in many forms.
Mine is drink, women, smoke, whatever I choose.
It’s the only freedom I have.

The ones who truly see their sins
will reach, rebuild,
fill the cracks they left behind.
Those people make me sick.
They have it all figured out.
They’re not on my frequency.

So you compartmentalize. You lie, you bring everyone for a ride on your magic bus. Condemning them along with you.

This is your balance.
This is your grind.
Not some sermon, not some chant,
but the law of the damned:

Hold the grudge, and it burns you alive.
Let it go, and maybe, just maybe,
you get to sleep at night.
Unless, of course, you’ve already made peace with the burn.
Then to hell with it and to hell with you.

In the Yellow Maverick

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Out on the open road,
a young boy, should’ve been in school,
instead, a passenger,
riding down highways from one trouble spot to the next.

We always left just in time,
before shit hit the fan,
before we made long-lasting friends,
before report cards arrived,
before we got comfortable,
before we called it home,
before we felt ashamed of who we were.

We hit the road at the right time,
fresh air through the windows,
deafening sound wind ripping through the car,
drowning out the local AM radio.

 

It was my chore to scan the radio dial
for stations we could pick up.

Fascinated by the concept of radio,
people off in the distance sending music
through the air.

 

At night, the dashboard and radio’s soft glow
offered little comfort.
No curfews, just slept when you couldn’t stay awake,

praying something scary wouldn’t reach in from the darkness
and grab you.

 

Daytime was no better. No reading, it made you sick.

Back to the AM radio.

Sometimes I wished I was another kid in a passing
car heading off to a normal life.

 

My mom, on the run from the law with two
little boys in the car,
swept away from life back home in Georgia,
now living out of a car always on the move.

Now we’re just white trash on the road,
littering the landscape.

My son, I love you

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A tale to tell of the man unknown,

Lost to the world, to hardship thrown,

In the veiled market of scant regard,

In the shadow cast by life so hard.

An orb of light, his heart’s sole crown,

A son, his life’s profoundest town.

In the echoes of giggles, the patter of feet,

He finds his existence, bitter yet sweet.

His coffers empty, his spirit bruised,

By wolves of envy, he stands accused,

Yet in the whispers of the night,

His love stands as his beacon light.

Through ragged clothes and crumbling walls,

Through each misstep, each stumble and fall,

His heart beats to a love so pure,

A bond no pain can obscure.

Through vacant pockets and silenced cries,

The joy in his son’s sparkling eyes,

A gift, a balm, a solemn prayer,

A love untouched by despair.

The days are long, the journey steep,

His promises, a pact to keep.

In the heart of his child, he once was, a titan, a star,

In his love, insignificant, he’s never afar.

The world may scowl, the world may pry,

But to his son, he’ll never lie.

Through thorns and stones, he bears the load,

In the silent love, a sacred ode.

Invisible to the world’s cold gaze,

In love, he weaves his quiet praise,

For in his son’s eyes, he was seen,

A hero, a knight, forever serene.

Through silent battles, unspoken fears,

Through the prism of love, he quells the tears,

Bound by love, a pact so strong,

To his son’s heart, he’ll forever belong.

In the cold Arctic of despair,

His love blossoms, beyond compare,

A silent sonnet, a timeless song,

In his son’s love, he finds his belong.

Broken

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I am fundamentally broken

In the hush of a thousand midnights,
Underneath the star-pricked cloak,
I confess to the silent cosmos,
“I am fundamentally broken.”

In the mirror of my soul’s reflection,
There are cracks too deep to mend,
A mosaic of shattered memories,
A tale too fractured to end.

In the orchestra of existence,
I am the out-of-tune note,
My rhythm lost to the tempest,
On waves of despair, I float.

In the crowd of smiling faces,
I am the one tear-streaked,
A silhouette of sorrow,
A spirit that’s been weakened.

But within this broken vessel,
A resilience starts to wake,
For even shattered glass can shimmer,
Under the dawn’s gentle break.

I am fundamentally broken,
Yet, from these pieces, I start,
In the canvas of my ruins,
Lies the art of a mending heart.

What would you do

/ M.Hatter / Leave a comment

I often wonder what happens at that precise moment when someone passes in their sleep.

We are quick to say they went peacefully. Which implies they simply went to sleep, never woke up or had any understanding of what was happening.

But…what if they did?

What if…

You’re asleep and there’s an interruption in your dream causing you to become aware but not awake.

You’re aware that you’re dreaming. Like an interruption to a regularly scheduled program. Your conscious and subconscious suddenly juxtaposed and you’re in both places.

Imagine how frighteningly strange that would be.

As you start to get used to this new sensation, the landscape starts to change. You look over and notice a place, at the edge of your subconscious forming.

You walk to it and see a clear black line like a seam splitting two realities.

Ahead of you is a reality that you couldn’t quite see clearly. Only colors swirling but nothing more as its being blurred by some gaussian filter.

The space between these realities is big enough for you to step into. Without knowing why, you step into this black seam without fear and can’t move but feel safe at this point.

You turn to look behind and see a ribbon forming with the starting point of your birth. You can see events in your life with exceptional clarity and if you focus, you can almost relive them. The urge to relive your past is strong.

However, something keeps you rooted and aware of what’s ahead of you.

Still, you can see your life clearly and are aware of the feelings you had then. While powerful, these past emotions do not affect your current state but you feel them nonetheless with the same intensity.

Except for now, you are feeling at ease. No fear or melancholy. A serenity washes over you.

As you look at your life, you start to notice branches forming. As if your life was a main distribution line and these branches were veins shooting off into different directions. At start of your life, the veins were not so many. As you progressed in life the number increased significantly.

The veins were connections and impacts you made to other lives and intertwined with other people. The length of the veins depended on how long and much of an impact you made. Some are healthy and vibrant, some are not and some look dead. And for the latter you feel remorse, regret and apologetic.

In the end, you can see the accomplishments of your life and its impacts. You cannot change what has happen.

You notice there are some veins that are vibrate with color. They are so beautiful that they flood you with intense emotion and make you cry with joy and sorrow all at the same time. These are your loved ones. The people who are connected deeply to you by love.

After looking across your life which seems like an eternity and reliving every point, experiencing every emotion and seeing every face of those you impacted, you become aware that ahead of you lies there is the unknown and you turn to face it.

You slowly raise your hand to touch this imagery.

Then a voice booms from everywhere at once. The voice is warm and familiar but you’ve never heard it before and it speaks one word “choose”.

It is the voice of God and it becomes clear what is commanded without a feeling intimidation.

Choose between going back. Waking up in the morning with a vague recollection of what happen, a small tinge of regret for not going forward.

And an optimistic thought that maybe you can repair some of those unhealthy and less vibrant veins you saw.

You can tell your loved ones how much you appreciate and need them too.

Or

Move forward, never wake up again and step into the unknown. To set out on an endless exploration of the afterlife.

It all becomes so clear to you that once you step forward into the wall of swirling colors you will embark on a infinite journey.

An eternal journey where a universe of mysteries stretch out beyond mortal comprehension. The simple questions/mysteries we experienced everyday are inconsequential compared to what is ahead. There are no dangers ahead. No traps or pitfalls. Just a quench to our natural human desire to travel.

You feel a swell of excitement and no sense of loneliness. You know that all pain and suffering would be lifted immediately and never come back.

You are also aware that you would be able to watch the continuation of everyone’s life as you travel.

Which would you choose?

Old

/ M.Hatter / Leave a comment

Maybe I’m stupid, maybe too hardheaded , I don’t want to give up

I’m old, parts of me starting to sag,

gravity is a bitch, so they say.

Who are “they” anyways?

These days, the cold wind cuts through my clothes,

I feel the icy touch in my bones.

Theres no escaping the cruel reality, I’m old.

I try to ignore the obvious. “The elephant in the room” .

Standing there, in the dark corner, grinning like a fool.

Motionless.

Eyes are dead.

“Don’t say dead!”

I look back on the warmth of my youth.

Making love to a beautiful girl under that tree.

The grass was green, and the sun golden.

Things were a lot warmer back then.

What was her name?

The memory fades.

I’m alone, or am I?  I have a hard time figuring that out sometimes.

I don’t see people. Only silhouettes.

Now I’m sitting here, in my frayed robe and thin pajamas, with death in the corner.

How long has he been here?

Cold air biting at my ears.

My pale withered hands resting in my lap.

Wisps of vapor, escaping my lungs with every raspy exhale.

Smoky tendrils floating upward and,

quickly vanishing into the pale light.

A visible reminder that I am still in the game!

Can’t have me yet! But I have no courage to tell him that.

The grin of death, widens.

My heart starts beating fast.

I shiver, it’s so cold. I wish he would go away,

Don’t come back another day.

I still have much to do.

“What do you have to do old man?”

I search my cluttered mind and come up with nothing.

Is this what madness is? Rooms filled with useless and forgotten memories.

An endless tsunami of images, voices and thoughts, washing over me with full force.

I can’t seem to find anything when it counts!

Why is my mind so disorganized these days?

I want to find my way back to that place. That place in the sun.

Making love to that beautiful girl. What was her name?

I would marry her. Or maybe I did.

The place with no regrets. Sins are forgiven and forgotten.

I miss everyone from those days. Where in the hell did all they go?

I know I was there. I just can’t seem to find my way there anymore.

My days in the sun, are long behind me.

Was there ever such a place? I can’t remember.

His lunatic grin widens.

Consumes his whole face now.

“You just don’t get it old timer?”

Tears start to stream down my face as the reality starts to sink in.

“You can’t remember because you ran out of road. There isn’t anymore ahead of you.”

Shaking my head I look down at my wrinkled hands. This can’t be true, can it?

“Take your time old man, you’ll figure it out eventually.”

“I’m not leaving…”

I just don’t understand…

Why don’t he go away?

I refuse

/ M.Hatter / Leave a comment

To be sure, this is the craziest period of my life

sitting in this chair,

a helpless passenger.

A victim of the cruel, but with good intentions, 

or so they say, 

insanity.

So, 

I refuse,

To be intimidated, 

To be used, 

To be marginalized, 

To be over worked, 

To be ignored,

To be forced to compromise, 

To be disrespected,

To be forgotten,

To be patronized,

To be fooled,

To be beaten down,

To be raped,

To be told who to hate,

To be in a position of hate,

I refuse damnit!

I refuse to believe in them,

I refuse to let them bait me,

I refuse to let them categorize me,

I refuse to let them believe they are relevant to me,

I refuse to acknowledge the self entitled,

I refuse billionaires who believe they are benevolent!

I need to rise out of this chair of complacency,

turn off the computer,

switch off the phone, 

put my feet on the ground, 

and keep on trucking.

To leave this period of sin behind me.

I know, there is still good out there, somewhere.

A place just over the horizon,

in that warm yellow light at sunset. 

Isn’t that where happiness lives?

I need to find the way, need directions, I need a map.

But for now… 

I just fucking refuse. It is my right.

Isn’t it? 

  

What do you refuse?

The door at the end of a dark hallway called judgement

/ M.Hatter / Leave a comment 
 
 You shuffle your feet
 with purposeful delay
 for insanity is 
 not too far away

 The pain from your past
 paints the walls 
 of this dark hall 
 your conscious wont last
 
 Cold Shivers, run down
 your spine
 your guilt, has
 soured the wine
 
 From under the closed doors
 light spills out
 Wait, this can’t be happening
 Where is your doubt?
 
 You start to pray
 But what will God say?
 Will you be forgiven today?
 
 You hear laughter and confusion
 while on your knees,
 praying for absolution
 But you find there's no easy solution

 when questioned of faith
 what did you used to say?
 Who is God anyway?
 
 You must walk 
 and do the time 
 each room you pass 
 is your crime
 
 It was hard to conceive
 your part in this, 
 difficult to believe

 screams of anger flood your ears
 from all the people 
 you hurt throughout the years
 
 You had no shame
 you played your game
 they didn't know your name
 or did they?

 The end is near
 funny, you have fear

 There is no one to save you
 except one, 
 who happens to be
 the one 
 that betrayed you
 
 Who can that be? 
 Why you, obviously
 Can't you see?
 
 Now down on your knees
 What say you?