Tag Archives: poem

Awoke

Awoke: (v) past of awake.dictionary with letter A

Just like the next guy sittin’ around waiting for a bus, I love a good story, especially if it’s sprinkled with a little mysticism and the possibility that there might actually be a God somewhere who gives a damn.

Because to be quite blunt with you, I do get tired of believing in things that don’t occasionally offer a dividend. If God wants my life, my repentance and sometimes my money, every once in a while He ought to show up and do a little two-step, letting me know that He’s still involved in the choreography.

I know that to some people, this may sound irreverent, but true irreverence is to continue to worship the irrelevant and insist that it’s meaningful.

So as a writer, I have, on occasion, felt divinely inspired to pen some thoughts which I felt came from a genesis other than my own heart, soul, mind and strength.

Yes, there have been those opportunities when I awoke from a dead sleep with a clarity of mind that could only be described as celestial, to grab pen and paper and write down a thought, a poem, a lyric or a paragraph which was flowing out of me like heavenly milk and honey instead of reluctant glue.

Now I will be honest. Sometimes, when I awoke again in the morning to arise from my bed, and I looked at the scribblings, they had the sentence structure of the Rubik’s Cube.

But there are those precious moments when the original inspiration is still so fresh on the paper that I fear the ink might smear.

So if I find our there is no God, I still feel I am better off by believing that every once in a while, when I awaken in the middle of the night to scrawl a thought or two… it was because God had become my alarm clock.

 

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Anomymous

dictionary with letter A

Anonymous: (adj) a person not identified by name; unknown name.

Sometimes I stumble across an adage or poem that is particularly clever, insightful or even artistic, and at the bottom is the word “anonymous.”

Obviously, it’s not.

  • Somebody wrote it.
  • Somebody thought it.
  • Somebody did it.

Yet over the years, a strange transition has occurred.

Here’s my opinion on that process: some person without an agent or an ego came up with an idea which he or she shared freely among friends.

One of those people realizes how obscure their companion is and feels compelled, on a journey to a far-away city, to share the inspiration. They are surprised at how responsive everyone is to the piece, and initially give credit to the friend who spoke it.

But then they think to themselves that since this buddy is never going to actually be in this far-away city, what would be the harm in taking bows for the composition?

Likewise, someone else in the room, who travels even further, decides to repeat the same process, stealing the thunder from the thief.

After a while, at a huge party somewhere far away, three or four people hear these words, and attribute it to several different individuals, generating an atmosphere of confusion.

Since no one is certain any longer who actually came up with the idea, it is determined to call it a draw and attribute it to Mr. or Mrs. Anonymous.

It also occurs in our everyday life in America. We have a nation of laws, regulations and general compliance within the citizenry, and believe that this temperate climate is achieved by human effort, never giving any credit to the spiritual training and the moral grounding that has been infused over generations.

We choose instead to attribute to religion or politics, and everything good is a by-product of our thinking or the latest craze.

In case you didn’t know, loving your neighbor as yourself is not anonymous.

If you weren’t aware, telling the truth did not spring from nothing.

Sometimes it’s a good idea to trace back great notions to their source, and therefore sit at the feet of wisdom instead of crinkling your brow … and pretending that the power that makes life work springs from magical four-leaf clovers.

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Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix