Sober, no worries...safe..as much as anyone
could hope, perhaps control it..but insane...that is
a most delightful rollercoaster.ride;
no buttons, stop or start though, which is, all at once
unfortunate and very valuable learning.
Thus far, my coping mechanism does consist
of 'laughter is sometimes your better medicine'..
(cheap too) , I think that mine will (hopefully too)
be a much 'milder' and less visible one,
and overall exhibit or reveal to all
itself quite differently - yes there IS that little shit again..
And, yes I know you 'knew' that friend, but it intrigues
as much as scares me to the distant end
though actually, the 'fear' is minimal and I can see
it as my timely 'lesson' in mastering or letting go
of my disturbing need to have control..
which may yet prove to be a precious gift.
May I delight you with a spot of creativity?
No, don't you worry, but, as Zato says, like fishing,
take 'just the right amount' because they will,
come morning, tell the others
(hence the 'lull of true replenishment') ,
restraint, me boy, take not too many..
It is rabbit-like, a balanced yin and yang,
homeostasis, if you wish it or prefer
a new translation which will then defy description.
A wise young kid as you guys know
tough by degrees and silly increments
he gets his chance for me to sit and listen finally..
Not unlike a teacher metamorphed to older brother,
shunning the sliver of an argument I have to have..
The knowledge of experience here, who wants to
needs to argue that, let's put him in the book
give generously so he may have a chapter at each end
to round it up or down, I volunteer to tidy any strays
and translate nebulosities with sleight of hand and stroke.
Finances, as they grow will nurture wisdom,
an innate wisdom of the heart to share some happy day
presenting with fanfare and much ado the grand finale.
The preface would be, did you guess my friend?
Tom's Story as it lives and breathes from its soul,
while leaving out and in its wretched misery the one
who cleans for those who ramble idly but in style,
which has a ring of Tut and Genius of its very own,
peeking through widened lens from Zeiss into the past,
to smile with pity at perspective lost, at last.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem