Muddled

My thoughts were clearly muddled as March kissed me good bye with snow. More rested on less sleep, the morning walk was when dark and light parted ways until their next reunion. No rush. What goes around, comes around.

At times I ran. From nothing. To nothing. Without reason. Without race or time clock. No finish line. Unfinished lines. Pregnant with words. Carrying many books. Some mere seeds. Others moving to birth at their pace. Other may remain in me. Stillborn. Still to be born. More imagined than conceived. Yet other nuggets drop from me like nuts from a big nut job. Perhaps they will root. Hip Hip Hooray. They might inspire. A word heard. A well penned lick that sparks another’s fuse. Pen, prose, poem….uttered, sputtered, without shutter or stutter. Spoken clearly even if muddled before being showered with love, shaved with sassy, and spit shined by truth.

Words from the darkness that light the way. I do my best work in my darkness. Work in others’ darkness too. Holding their face to their own fires of bullshit and denial for I have been branded in that way. There are many here in the dark. Showing themselves themselves and sharing themselves to any that ask for a taste of their how and ways and means. Tasty morsels served up in the marinade they made along the way when blinded by the light. In the darkest rooms are the sweetest developments. The belittlers be little here. Demonize. Demon eyes. We are what we seek. We seek truth and light and balance and sharing. We are kind, have kindred, share kindling, and warm our cold and sorry asses around a circle of fire. Bon voyage. Bonnie lads and lasses dance in kilts, kill no more, take no shit, and understand the difference between pacifist and pass a fist.

I don’t have your answers. You can have mine if they work for you. My thoughts are clearly muddled on April Fools Eve. I ain’t kidding. No kidding. No kidding around. You can’t kid me. I am of the Feminine and I birth words injected into me in ways you can’t even imagine. Maybe you can. Bend over and let me bend you ear a bit and then you can bend my ear. Let’s jam. Can you hear the Circus Music? They are playing our song. Let’s dance with the devil with the blue dress on. Ensure your seams are straight. Seems straight to me. But then again, straight has a whole new definition when your thoughts are clearly muddled.

Let me be straight about this. I feel the negative. See it. Taste it. Know it. Positively, Absolutely, know the negative. Gotta know your enemy. Cause. Clauswitz knew that. Sun Tzu, too. Pogo knew better. Met the enemy and he is us. Me is us. I am you and you are he and we are he and we are all together. Coochie, Coochie, and a big Kook Kook Ka Choo. God Bless you, each and every one. Saw a man and he danced with his wife. Read another and he envied someone else’s pride in who and where they were. I was torn…to laugh or to cry at how sad and ironic that was. Laughing was too heartless. Crying would be wasteful. So I wrote about it and now you read about it. Maybe that is the right thing. I am not sure it matters what I feel. Maybe it is just enough to feel. Does not make me proud to feel. It could be worse though. It could be unclear and muddled. Am I making myself clear? Maybe I am muddled. Clearly so. So what?