Playing the off key notes

Playing the off key notes

there was the gnashing of teeth

playing in a concordant symphony

i knocked on the door

because i had questions

i fell to my knees

no big thing i thought

if that is what is required of me

i have been to many an altar

not quite knowing how to speak

that which was troubling me

so i let my heart dwell

in its own meditative silence

i have eaten those bland tasting wafers

and drank your off brand grape juice

nothing felt quite authentic

i did not feel in touch

unless i really, really concentrated

and conjured forth another delusion

the old folks would say

“your hearts not in the right place”

maybe that’s why i hurt so much

for you

for me

for us all

and the loss of our civility

you see

this is not a new pain

and i have always

knew pain

for this insane

inane expression

on this plane

does not explain

why this rain

is flooding my soul

with salty tears

they say we should not fear

but i ask

what else is there to do

when you look about

and see so much suffering

some silently whispering to us

some shouting out loud

the holy shroud

when will it be lifted

or is that another piece of lore

a myth

that we must sift through

to find a truth

we may not recognize

with our empirically mutated eyes

even in the silence

i can hear the babies crying

they are just hungry

won’t someone feed them

the peace they seek

we speak in terms of budgets

and we have not budged yet

not nudged yet

our selves nor our fellow man

to that circle of unity

we so often elucidate

in our sermons

amongst friend and strangers

and anyone else who would listen

we do estrange our brethren don’t we

especially if there are significant choices

to be made

you know

like “Me” or “You”

and the voices of the muted souls

has resigned their self

to singing in empty choir lofts

for no one wishes to hear their misery

yet we practice a commiserable posture

with closed hands tightly clenched

around the potentials

of what we may become

and we grasp for breaths of reasonableness

that must be propped up

by our mastery

of words and charms

something we learned in school

how does one reconcile a day

in review sleep i must

that i may forget my lack

and God willing

i will dream of cartoons

sheep or dying . . .

or maybe i will just fall off that cliff

as i have done so many times before

you know

that edifice of accomplished wantings

that precipice

that has been looming

in my psyche

pretty much all my life

i never was quite grounded in those dreams

so i surmise

i will never be able to walk away

with any querulous perspective

of victory

quite a juxtaposition here

caught up between a wall

and another brick

being hurled at my fragility

senility

at times it does rhyme

and is in sync

with wisdom

is that because it is indigenous

to old folk ?

i listened

they smiled

then fell asleep

reminding me that

there was a disparaging difference

in my perceptions

as time moved in fast forwarded frames

was it an 8mm

or a Glock

that shocked me back

to a semi verifiable consciousness

and if so

where are the wheels

to this wagon

and why is it not red ?

and why is everyone gnashing their teeth

attempting to understand

what is being said here

in my discordant symphonious playing

of the off key notes

of my life

27 August 2012 : William S. Peters, Sr.

www.iaminnerchild.com

www.innerchildpress.com