Will the Truth Set Me Free

…I ponder some of the great ones on this fine sunny late winter’s day.Writers and singers legends of their time to be forever remembered for their words.For you see there is a harsh reality to this old cat’s world as he sits before the infernal machine pounding on the symbols of humanity.I have nothing in this world excepting this machine that I use to reach out to my fellows that travel with me on this our expectant mother earth.Not a dime,sheckle or two nickles to rub together and I live with my old pal Lyme every single day.That’s the reality I live with so I am often found behind the great white page just pounding away in the hopes that other”s may find something to take from my prolific pondering that always seems to lead me to pontificating.

…The Palace is where I live a household full of the crazy mixed up and sometimes just plain insane lives of the twenty to thirity something crowd that passes through this the Palace of my daughter’s home.I don’t belong here and never have but there is nowhere else to go for me just now so we all make the best of it.Of course my needs are generaly ignored and left by the wayside and I needs must survive the best I can manage under the circumstances.This has led me to the journey within to discover what may or may not be found deep inside the man that is me today.

…The connection between these seemingly disjointed paragraphs is simply the observation that personal pain and suffering seem to lead to the prolific production of thought and word that become the messages of those who achieve the status of the great ones.I pound away on the symbols of humanity to release the thoughts and notions with mixed emotions that seem to simply overflow from my heart mind and soul.Is this a fantasy world I have created to escape the cold stark reality of my world or the real man that I have become on this collective journey we as members of spiecies human needs must take.The answers are not something that I as humble man seem to have and sometimes I am quite sure I don’t even understand the questions.

…What I know is that I simply must continue to pound on the keys of black and white that lead me on the journey I seem destine to take.If others find my ramblings and gamblings and mixed up wanderings something worth their regaurd as they sit before me in the places appointed this pleases me in ways I simply cannot explain and indeed may not even comprehend.I just know that on any given day the wordsmith must come out to play and release that which he’s found in the dusty chambers of my oft befuddled mind.Will I someday find myself numbered amoung the great ones,the humble man dares to dream of such a bold ending but then I reach into the pocket of my ragged jeans and realize the harsh reality that is wrapped around my crazy world.

…To have to hold to be so bold I dare to dream of better days.Sunny days followed by warm summer’s nights perhaps partaking of lover’s delight and finding that love is realy free.The real world weighs on me and has dealt many a powerful blow.I retreat to place I know special place only I may go and dare to dream of better things and freedoms only wordsmith brings as fingers dancing mind romancing and heart gives recieves it’s due.I am man now humbled man with greatness in my soul I am man now awsome man my golden pen and heart dare to tell me so.

…………………Peace To All Who Pass This Way………………………………….

…………………….Thecatsman PhD(school of hard knocks)…………………….

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Life, Life Thoughts and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Will the Truth Set Me Free

  1. Leslie Kavourakis says:

    This is a story as old as time,the artist in the garret,the writer alone in a utmost corner of the house, the the alchemist pouring over his potions, even the solitary religious, given over completely to illumination the sacred words. overpowered by the “finer work” yet longing for the mundane, for the pedestrian life, the life he may no longer a part of,,,,and then pen and ink calls, paintbrush beckons, keystrokes fly, and potions sizzle and he who was the “outsider” is once again the purveyor of dreams…..of mood altering verse all for the joy of the reader . the truest heart recedes and the work prevails….

  2. Serena Devi says:

    Chris, you deeply touched my heart with this liberating confession of yours. One way or the other, we are here to learn, growth and evolve. Stay with heart and soul and practice detachment, then you will see, the dream within the dream exist, the key is in the place of clay but not of the clay,. Blessing S

  3. iamaperson says:

    You have just described yourself as an “ARTIST” with a unique way of painting a picture seen so clearly……..your paint brush is your words, your paint is the visuals that come forth from your descriptions of thought as you see it. I think I see clearly now. K

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s