My ego wants to succeed

by strangling my soul.

I can’t breathe.

I’m dead

depressed

I reach for things.

Out of despair, I do what feels good

and

I write a poem, again—with pure delight

in the summer sunlight

and that empty feeling

is gone.

When I’m on a roll,

it feels good in my soul

and the power won’t leave me

until I think about how to use it differently

“If you become famous,” my friend said, “beautiful women will be lining up.”

“I could be like Bob Dylan.”

It’s so easy to get confused.

It happens when we think about what we want,

and the goal

steals something

from our soul.

Love is that elixir that won’t run-out

and it gets poured out

until we stop loving.

I loved golf

and I played that game like a religion

until I thought…

What can God do for me?

And then,

I lost my love for God,

and the more I forced myself to love

I felt hate.

I was cut-off

from the perfect shot

and I got the shanks.

My compulsions are smarter than I am…

A man is what he does—

not what he thinks,

thank God.

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10 thoughts on “A Man is What He Does—Not What He Thinks”

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