Stories, Jokes and Experiences
Stories, Jokes and Experiences
Water and Poetry
0:00
-10:58

Water and Poetry

What's worth dying for today?

Hello all,

It’s been a while since I’ve written to you. In fact, I’ve hemmed and hawed for several days over how to introduce this post. Creative time is extremely valuable to me, and sometimes I forget that I don’t need to prove to myself that I am living creatively with anything concrete.  

Creativity is in the strength of your morning cup of coffee, it’s in the route you take to work and the maneuvering sidesteps on the sidewalk to dodge oncoming pedestrians. It’s in the way you communicate with friends during deep conversations, the texts you send, the work you do. It’s in the way you dress yourself each day, it’s in your facial expressions. It’s in every homemade breakfast, lunch and dinner and it’s in the lyrics you invent to the beat of your favorite song. It’s in the pictures you take. It’s the essence of everything you hear and everything you see.

Anytime you improvise anything, you are acting in accordance with creativity. Nothing was there, and now something is. You’re the common factor. It’s you who makes the moment. It’s you who performs the magic.

I like to think of my life as a water well. I am the hydrologist, the geologist and the technician. I am responsible for managing the resources that produce the highest quality water. I am expected to determine the best locations for drilling. I operate the machinery, running daily tests and making tweaks to ensure all the equipment is working appropriately.

I’ve advertised myself as a dependable supplier of water. In this analogy, the water is the energy and effort required to sustain progress along each of my life’s missions. The water is the air I breathe, it’s the thoughts I choose, it’s the content I consume… it’s the shaping of my depth and the offering of whatever it is that I have to give to the infinitude of the world outside me.

Sometimes, it only takes a single day for me to experience a lifetime’s worth of emotions. Sometimes, I am overwhelmed by how much I want to do and how little time I seem to have.

So instead of elongating the preface out of some misguided service to soothe my ego, I think I’ll just summarize the events of the last month in the form of a few poems…

These poems are the water. I’ve profoundly enjoyed mining for every single drop.

It might not be the book I want to write, and it might not mean I am completely fluent in Spanish. It might not mean that every single meal I eat is nutritionally balanced or I’ve added 10 pounds of muscle to my frame. It might not mean that every relationship is flawless and every moment is fluid and it certainly does not convince me that there’s even enough time in a life…

But it does mean that I am sustaining my life’s missions.

This is water.

A Love Poem

I met a girl and I care for her deeply. Even though it scares me, I tell her all the time.

I’ve also found a city that stimulates every creative impulse I never knew I had.

Her (the girl) and it (the city), let me be all the different parts of me that inevitably, I am. They inspire me. They make me laugh. They make me think. They make me grow.

I am so grateful for them both.

The following poem is imperfect, like me. And still, I write this poem for them.

Title: Good Morning, Madrid, And Good Morning To You, Too

People everywhere, all the time
Drinking black coffee, sipping red wine
Rising each morning, resting each night
Searching for meaning, longing for light

Stoic streets meet walking gaits
While poets write and contemplate
The story of today and the past of tomorrow
The why behind this and that when time is only borrowed

A sun rises, a tree shakes
A feeling forms and evaporates
A heart fills, a mind quiets
A joke is made, we laugh about it

I offer all I am, though I know I’m made of glass
I fear that I’ll go stale, like winter’s dying grass
How many words are left before the message brittles?
None, she says. Somehow, it’s never too many and always too little

To a city, I am, what a city is to me
Inhabitant. Inhabited. A spirit roaming free
To a girl, I am, what a girl needs me to be
A place to sleep, a place to smile, a place to live a dream

I may be here
You may be there
But what we share
Lives everywhere

I might say go, you might say rest
I might say no, you might say yes
Whatever I say, I say with all my chest
To Madrid, to Madeleine, you are the very best

A Nature Poem

I am inspired by people, and I am inspired by nature. This past weekend, I was blessed to experience the impact of both, checking every box I need to check in order to feel full and to feel grateful.

I find that I write the cleanest lines the morning after an extended participation with the world. I know my depth perils in comparison to all that lives outside of me, but I offer what I have anyway. And in the morning, I’ve had some time to sit with what I’ve seen, to talk about it with friends, even to dream.

Sometimes, I’m compelled to slap my fingers onto a screen, writing the words or phrases that come to mind in my notes app while I trudging up a mountain. This often leads to stumbles and stubbed toes. So it goes. This is the price one pays to work with words.

These poems always start there, and they slowly build into my conscious world and I tweak and piddle until I have something worth giving to you. More importantly, until I have something worth giving to me.

Title: The Magnitude of Mountains   

Waterfalls, mountains, trees and leaves
Vonnegut, Bukowski, Whitman and Nietzshe
My heart wears the sky while stone sifts beneath my feet
To the top, I venture, it’s the top that I will reach

Oh, dear world,
How blessed I am to thank you
How daring it is to call you my home

Oh, dear friendship,
Your shared nostalgia for the rearview
The mundane made memorable out of urgency to grow

The rest of us exist only because we are together
The sense of self I seize demands that you are there
I don’t understand the expression, “under the weather…”
Are we not always under it? Housed in nature’s lair?

I hear through sights and see through sounds
Melodic switchbacks waltz upon a rocky ground
The clash of wind and water builds a bridge into the endless
I claim ascents at every turn, exchanging lungs for something breathless

Moonlight hums a symphony at dusk
Sunsets sing in every shade of autumn
Birds converse in chirps and warbles
Finally, at the top, I forget about the bottom

Up here I see all the life that came before
I witness history as it’s made. I speak in nature’s roar
I inhale strokes of apparitions that will always go unseen
Because I’m here, I make the moment. I complete the space between.

A Comedy Poem

Cracked out after Spanish class, I decided to write a poem. A messy mind makes messy art. And messy art is worth creating.

Title: Poet or Comedian? Likely Neither

Beautiful, thank you
Daddy’s here to spank you

What?
Did you say something?

Why…
Did you say something…

Well, the madness is delirious
And they tell me I’m not serious
When I’m feeling all this sadness
Because I lost my favorite sunglasses.

God dammit. Not again.
Is that something? Is she a ten?
I can hardly remember when
I became a wizard with this pen

Jokes are told and forms ignored
Dirty dishes are such a chore
A towels fuzzies shed on my face
A student curses without a bit of grace

One is funny because they are noticeable
Not because what one notices is wrong
Love is worth it because it’s unexplainable
Not because one thinks the lonely days are gone

I know not why I say what I think
I know not why I think what I say
I know I like when glasses clink
I know that everything will be okay

So off I go to write new stanzas
Off I go into new ways of life
I lost my third-grade spelling bee on the word bonanza
Do you think, in third-grade, that you could spell it right?

Somebody Else’s Poem

Lastly, here’s an incredible fucking poem I stumbled on. I was moved to tears upon reading it for the first time several weeks ago. It’s far better than any poetry of mine, but thankfully, poetry, and art, is not a contest of comparison. It’s not a contest at all. It’s not a means to an end.

It’s a reason a live. And one’s reasons to live cannot be disputed. Cannot be refuted. Cannot be considered astray…

Title: What If It All Goes Right

What if it all goes right?
What if you don’t get fired
What if you find the love you deserve and it lasts
What if your plane lands safely
What if everyone shows up to your party
What if the recipe turns out great
What if you don’t disappoint them
What if they love you anyway
What if you’ve got so much time left
What if you talked just the right amount
What if everyone had a great time because you were there
What if you take that chance and it works out
What if time keeps passing and it’s wonderful
What if you don’t regret telling them
What if you don’t remember any of this
What if your grief makes you stronger
What if the end of that isn’t the end of you
What if you exceed all expectations
What if the kids turn out just fine
What if your trust doesn’t get betrayed
What if that wasn’t a waste of time after all
What if you’re not alone forever
What if you’re not only enough but the perfect amount
What if you were hopeful as often as you are worried
What if changing the narrative changed your entire perspective
What if it all goes right?

JISM (Sign-Off):

So, what do you think? Is there enough time in a life? How are you so sure? What’s worth living for? No. What’s worth dying for, today? What would you be willing to die for today?

Are you doing enough of it?

With love,

Raig

Discussion about this episode

User's avatar