Every pill I take is a bullet
fired right into my brain.
the damage is consistent.
it will leave me dead or insane.
i fall back into my bed
waiting for the pills to tame the pain.
sometimes they do, sometimes they don't.
either way i fry in this flame.
i examine each one carefully
wondering if that is the one
that will shove me across the line
and declare that i am done.
damn this injury, and damn this burn
and, for not knowing what to do
you may say
damn me too.
*TBI's don't show on the outside. But on the inside they can make wailing misery.
Friday, January 31, 2020
is that the one?*
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Friday, January 31, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...65
A man is not fully awakened until he's homesick for a place he's never been.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Friday, January 31, 2020 0 comments
Thursday, January 30, 2020
Wounds
There are those less obvious.
Some wounds may seem clean.
Every wound has shrapnel.
Some are deeply slashed and broken.
Some wounds are gory.
Some wear them as a token.
I've seen wounds in others
and I've found a few in me.
I don't want to look too closely.
I don't really want to see.
Some hide their wounds expertly
so others will never know.
But eventually they'll succumb
to the poison's fatal flow.
Some treat their wounds with great care
being careful to ease their pain.
like late winter's snow pelted by rain.
We are all a wounded people.
If you could look out from my eyes
you would see a ghastly vision.
You see, everybody dies.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 30, 2020 0 comments
Redemption
Confession is a difficult process.
At least it is for me.
It wells up from the gut
and I fall upon my knees.
All my life is open
like pages from a book
and He absorbs every word.
It is no casual look.
I wait upon my sentence.
It will be accompanied by pain.
Maybe a noose around my neck
and I'll be hanged out in the rain.
Words are somehow caught
deep down in my throat.
But the price for my redemption
is inked in the blood He wrote.
I am prepared to pay the price
for all the wrong I have done.
But in a loving voice He tells me
it's been paid for by the Son!
In the flash of an atom
I am helped up to my feet.
I am wrapped in a princely robe
and I and friends given a calf to eat.
There are rings upon my fingers.
The Father says 'My Son has come back home.'
There is a room prepared for me
and I know I'll never roam.
What glory is the story!
Prodigals all are we.
But the Father loves the sinner.
Come to Him and see.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 30, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...64
Every man is hard wired to fall in love with any woman in a sun dress.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 30, 2020 0 comments
Let the Rain Clouds Weep*
Bury me on a cloudy day
and let the rain clouds weep for me.
Let the streams flow into rivers
and the rivers to the sea.
Let your sorrow go as well.
It fits neither me nor you.
We spent our moments loving
so let your tears roll down too.
We laughed together, did we not?
We lived life fierce and well.
Our footprints are smoothed away
but our deeds ring out, as bells.
Tell our many stories, laughing!
Let them be full-hearted and loud.
Then think on me no more.
I go to my home beyond the clouds.
* If you are like me, the matter of death has different perspectives. The poem following this is maudlin. Uneasy. This poem, which much better reflects my genuine view, is the more-accurate me. I just, for posterities sake, thought you should know.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 30, 2020 0 comments
Thursday, January 23, 2020
Gone Home
it started this morning
when I was alone
the text just said
my friend had "gone home."
I understand that's a way
to more softly say someone died.
but to couch it like "gone home"
it kinda felt like that text lied.
no one's pain is really eased
by poetic metaphors and things.
no matter how you try to say it
the reality is death stings!
we make sure the departed's hair's right
and that lots of flowers fill the room.
but any way you cut it
it all ends up in the tomb.
I try my best to avoid funerals..
for too long, they are a brutal memory.
but, any way you slice it, pal
eventually death is comin' after me!
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 23, 2020 0 comments
Wednesday, January 22, 2020
Everything's About Me*
married at 19
I thought I was gonna die.
a jungle war was waiting
and I never thought to reason why.
I needed to leave something behind.
I wanted to leave a broken heart
maybe as proof that I was here
but I mixed up the finish from the start.
however, Uncle never called
and soon we had a child.
surprised the hell outta me!
I may have been a little wild.
I labored seven years
toward a hard-earned college degree.
my future ex complained
everything was all about me.
so we spent 28 years
trying to figure things out.
we didn't know how to talk
but we both learned how to shout.
after the divorce I went down a rabbit hole
for 2 or 3 painful years.
but there wasn't anyone for me there
and I crawled away in tears.
a lot of years were given to police
and I was so happy to learn to serve.
I did a lotta hard things
that took a lotta nerve.
in the process of flying apart
my daughter couldn't bear what I became.
we haven't talked in 7 years
'cuz when everything's about me, I'm the one to blame.
my other child, my rock and anchor
became a successful business man.
but it's sometimes hard being with him.
he runs with the big dogs, while I do well to stand.
almost lost my life twice
as my body began breaking down.
I'm likely to die in my bed
and then they'll put me in the ground.
so, friend please don't inquire
about my life's work or legacy.
that's a sore subject.
'cuz everything's always about me.
* Yep. True story. (The part about my daughter hurts the most, but like everything in life, you find ways to deal with it. My way is ignoring it, since I was never made aware of the "charges" against me! So, yeah. It really hurts.)
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Wednesday, January 22, 2020 0 comments
Warrior in Jeans
I never charge into the high grass
or wade into a cornfield.
I always armor-up
put on my helmet
and be sure to take my battle shield.
there's never time for foolishness
nor drop my guard for no good reason.
I know what's behind me
and what's ahead.
I know the terrain and changing seasons.
I collect all the data there's to know
and I prepare my heart and mind
making certain of the reasons
for my actions and my goals
uncovering all there is to find.
last, but not least I make sure
I have an exit plan.
know where the doors are
who guards them
and be sure I've done all to understand.
I'm a simple man that doesn't turn heads.
I don't dress to impress.
there's nothing about me remarkable
and nothing to draw attention.
I'm just in town to clean up the mess.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Wednesday, January 22, 2020 0 comments
Monday, January 13, 2020
Master of the Obvious...63
A wise man knows the depth of the river, and the strength of the current.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Monday, January 13, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...62
No plan survives first contact with the enemy. (Not my wisdom, but it's an exalted piece of information).
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Monday, January 13, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...61
Death is nature's way of slowing you down. (not original to me).
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Monday, January 13, 2020 0 comments
Monday, January 6, 2020
A Little Nerve
A Little Nerve
Many, or a few.
That was my training.
It was what I was meant to do.
It was simply a call I took.
It was a puzzle piece that fit.
There’s lots of ways to die.
Just think hard and chose one.
I was in the right place
At the right time.
Sometimes I was right there
Or a voice on the line.
Offering an open hand is important.
It just takes a little nerve.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Monday, January 06, 2020 0 comments
The Most That I Can Do
The Most That I Can Do
You’d give me anything I need.
But, baby can’t you see
That this is the way I bleed.
But I never thought you’d see
Or I could make you understand.
I always kept my distance.
Never played two part harmony.
But I always kept it hidden.
I never let it open to a new start.
But I thought I’d make the gesture.
It’s the most that I can do.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Monday, January 06, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...60
Be very careful who you call "Brother."
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Monday, January 06, 2020 0 comments
Friday, January 3, 2020
Master of the Obvious...59
No matter how insignificant, even the smallest loss will occupy your mind until found.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Friday, January 03, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...58
There is something holy in the hiss of a gas lantern, percolating coffee and gentle song of morning birds.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Friday, January 03, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...57
Nothing is as devastating as to be wounded in the house of your friend. (Paraphrase of Jesus, who was crucified at the demand of His own people).
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Friday, January 03, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...56
Old Cop Proverb----Men beat women. Women kill men.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Friday, January 03, 2020 0 comments
Thursday, January 2, 2020
A Simple Ladle
from a ladle in a well
then you can't know the meaning
of a respite from burning hell.
Draw you up some liquid
some unsurpassed surprise
that'll cool your fevered palate
and soothe your burning eyes.
It'll be a small taste of heaven
And work down into your belly
It'll be a foretaste of glory
And turn your legs to jelly.
That water will bless your life
and all your unborn children
It'll be your legacy and promise
It's the bullet in your gun.
It's nothing more than a simple ladle
not much more than one slow drink
but it has power undelivered
if you pour it down the sink.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments
Desperation
there ain't nothin' here
that's holdin' me.
i could get home anytime
that i wanna be.
i'm tryin' to hold on
for as long as i can.
it means nothin' to you
but i'm makin' my stand.
i just thought you should know.
you've been a friend to me.
but don't hold me too close
i feel so empty.
i'm confused and tired
and a little bit drunk.
like i'm bailin' out a boat
that's already sunk.
so, if you could see your way clear
please let me go.
i've said all there's to say
and you know all there is to know.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...55
If you wear a uniform, be the man you are in it, the man you are out of it, or the man you are out of it will become the man you are in it.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...54
My job is to keep my personal items from becoming my personal effects.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...53
I want to become the man my dog thinks I am.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...52
Nothing is better for a man's self esteem than the adoration of his dog!
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...51
Nothing is as charming as a child with a pole and a bucket of bait.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...50
When God's in control, everything is on time, and in perfect order!
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...49
Honor is the only bulletproof part of a man.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...48
When a woman says, "Don't over-think this,"over-think the hell out of it!
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...47
Even the angriest bull seems docile from the safe-side of the fence.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...46
Southerners don't have breakfast, lunch and dinner. They have Breakfast, Supper, and Dinner. Supper is the main meal, and usually commences around two in the afternoon. A big 'ol jug of Sun Tea is usually steeping on the back porch. Nothin' better, Yank!
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...45
Every Southern man loves Grits---"Girls Raised In The South."
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...44
To offer a bribe to a good officer is an insult upon his honor.
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...43
When you're pulled over by a traffic cop, and he asks you if you know why you're being pulled over, tell him. Or, he will surely write you a whopper of a citation to make sure you always know the speed limit on his stretch of asphalt. (And, off the record, be polite, or he will offer you a crash course in civility).
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments
Master of the Obvious...42
If your only friend is your shadow, make certain you're the kind of person your shadow doesn't find objectionable. (See entry #40).
Posted by The Dashboard Poet at Thursday, January 02, 2020 0 comments