Monday

Thursday

the Burdens of Freedom

all i ever really wanted was freedom (true)
not money (lie)
not fame (lie)

they will say i worked really hard (true)
or not at all (lie)
or never noticed (lie)

freedom from history
freedom from expectations
freedom from myself

freedom from pain
freedom from shame
freedom from burden

freedom from perfection
freedom from greatness
freedom from legend

making it look easy (lie)
making it look fun (lie)
maybe that was the hardest (true)

not for me (lie)
not for you (lie)
but for everyone else who knows (true)

Wednesday

USA Belay

 image: b. robles

video: internet

Friday

Wednesday

A Question of Freedom

 

When will I know what freedom feels like (again)?

How could I even know?

The longer I survive the less sure I believe I ever will

I do believe I have felt freedom but that was a million years ago
    [or felt what at the time I believed freedom to be]

But I am now sadly much less as sure about the concept or construct

This life has penned me into a position of a somewhat cowardly caution

Forces against me ever knowing are so strong

Perhaps I may only vaguely remember

Thursday

6 of 7

 

February starts
six of the first seven days
calendar birthdays

acknowledgement by
handwritten ink to paper
refrigerator

year in and year out
along with important deaths
our story of us

that war is already won