Where I'm Calling From

I.

To all of our achings we’re a humble servant,
Stuck in a house with no means to flee.

Just a repertoire of 
notions a feeding, 
desires a needing, 
plots a seeding,
fixations afixiating.

We develop a kinship to the suffering,
Help the record needle keep a skipping,
so there’s no getting over.

II.

Front porch, see what’s to see outside,
when the mind is still inside. 
To look at me looking at me, 
and I’m not sure what I see but the concern
is what you see.

You’re the pedestrian passing.
You’re the car puttering by.
You’re the bird that lurches toward the sky.

I’m just watching from the front porch,
the bystander, the observationist,
the stranger waving goodbye.

III.

There were misconceptions on forever.
We all just want to feel alive.

Stillness vs the open road.
Out there in the dark vs in here in the light.
To be someone vs to be something.

You don’t need to explain if everything’s changed,
Just know you don’t know. 
That I know, cause I’m just like you.

We call it life and we can’t call it at all.