It’s impossible to settle among conflict.
I grew up near a river
and in the shallows, where the current doesn’t go, layers of silt, collect
and if you step into these river-tide-pools, clear water becomes brown
and the crawdads, sculpins, and minnows, vanish
from the temporary dust bowl, where confusion and darkness abound.
There has never been a time in my life
where I did not experience recurrent conflict
storms, coming and going
building up of dark clouds
towering skyscrapers of ego
miles away, like gossip, expressed on a face in the clouds.
A flash of yellow teeth
the storm battles
the odds of getting struck by lightning, expound
getting rained on, is inevitable
a person can choose to live in tornado-ally
where big bowling balls knock your pins down
or, one can choose to spend time alone.
My friend recently told me, this type of life is neutral
but I don’t think so
Flying a red and white kite
in a warm breeze
is better than, boring doldrums—True
So, storm management is important
Every man, should be a weather man
predicting the storms as an art
and getting out-of-town before a hurricane
should be, his philosophy.
I don’t like to be challenged
not that I want to be the forever king
just that I am the king of my own kingdom
and I don’t want to rule over other lands.
People who compete with me
have found a fantastic foe.
I run at my own pace
and they need to beat me
and they always do
but what have they won?
I’m not even running toward their finish line—
all I’ve done is crossed their path.
There is nothing more unpleasant, than wanting what they want
only then, do you glimpse their madness
and I prefer my own.
When these high- and low-pressure systems
I know, the pleasant life, is for me
the occasional flying of a kite
on a lonely shore.