Do not ask. I have no idea where this one came from or even what it means. It has been said that people who are creative are insane. This could then, be the reason. And now, I can indulge in ‘maniacal’ laughter.
There is nothing in my soul but torment! I look around at what is happening in total bewilderment. Beautiful and deep poetry from my soul is dead thanks in part to the fact that each new day, I dread. For what is there for me to look forward to? Only anguish, tears and bloodshed do I see and this does not for a moment, set me free! Torment is in my soul and there it shall remain! The song I sing is a lament and so too is its sad refrain.
Was it only yesterday that I put up a blog in essence stating that I would no longer write about how fucked up we all are and even though I did in fact title the blog, “Just Sit On Your Worthless Ass,” those of you that have read much by me know my style of writing? It is not friendly, nor is it conducive to making friends, but I am appalled after reading some of the comments over there. It was most definitely NOT my intent to bring about enmity between fellow bloggers. I was just stating my need to move on because I am tired and fed up with repeating myself and basically with preaching to the choir, which I’ve stated often enough. I have started a new blog with the intent that it should only contain deep and soulful poetry and prose from me and though I do understand that my followers have been extremely faithful even in the face of so many outrageous rants from me, I feel the need to move on due to the fact that I am causing my blood pressure to rise because of how sensitive I am and over the fact that I can do not a damn thing about a damn thing, beyond raving which is accomplishing nothing, constructive.
It was brought to my attention that I am railing against those that do not hear me and upon further reflection, I find this to be quite true and so what is the point? And since it is making me ill, I need to stop. But in no way was I attempting to discourage others from continuing the struggle to right the wrongs, undo the damage, mitigate the consequences of capitalism run amok, cease to care about the plight of others or just give up. That was never my intent when I posted “Just Sit On Your Worthless Ass.” That is just my unique style of writing.
I do understand why a couple of people have stated that they will miss my rants and could I please continue and so I ask, “To what purpose?” What difference are my rants making? I answer, “no difference at all!” And again, believe me when I say that I do sincerely appreciate the encouragement for me to continue on but when I scroll down and check out the blogs that are on my tracker, I am disheartened by what I see. I am really quite tired of reading about how Obama lies all the time when I know this. I am quite tired of reading about the fact that Europeans are still fucking over the Indians. I am quite tired of reading about the fact that Black people are incarcerated in numbers disproportionate to their population count. I am quite fed up past my eyeballs at reading about the misery that America’s military whores are unleashing on the world’s people, daily.
What really finished me off was reading about the thirteen year old boy that got burned up by a drone strike in Yemen. It touched me so deeply that for days, I feared for my sanity. When looking at his picture, the tears would just silently stream down my face and so I cannot look at him. My writing did not keep little Mohammed alive. My writing or ranting as it is so succinctly put, did nothing to stop Mohammed’s father and brother from dying by drone strike.
To those of you who think of me as strong, think again because even I once thought the same thing about myself but I have come to realize that I too, am weak. I am too weak to look at the picture of a little boy who died because the government of the country that I am a citizen of considered him to be a terrorist even though he was not, but he was killed anyway. I am too weak to look at his picture and not cry. I am too weak to be able to continue to rant against what happened to him because I am a failure. I failed to stop his death. I am too weak to continue ranting for no reason because that is what I am doing since I cannot stop Obama from droning the innocent. And so I take the walk of shame and I will become just like all of the other Americans that go about their daily lives in ignorance, cluelessness, apathy and complacency. In fact, because of what I now know, I wish that I had never left their ranks! They are the smart ones since here I sit, sniveling still because I had to look at Mohammed’s picture, AGAIN, in order to link that blog post to this one. Do I seriously need to continue in my attempts to get you to understand that my decision to abort my writing, excuse me, rants has nothing whatsoever to do with any of you? It is because I need to stop since I am only hurting myself and no one else and I must stop because I cannot face seeing another Mohammed. My heart is already broken over little thirteen year-old Mohammed and all that I can do is weep for him and that is helpful how? Exactly!
For those of you who have followed this blog for some time now, I thank you for your support but I am done repeating myself to worthless shits that don’t get it and I am including myself in the ‘worthless shits’ category because neither am I doing a goddamn thing about any goddamn thing. Apparently, we are all sitting around waiting on something or someone to save us from ourselves. Ain’t gonna happen. And so I have started a new blog because as the saying goes, “out with the old and in with the new.” I will keep this blog up for those who are interested in reading the fact that when we are all dead from either GMO foods, or from earthquakes caused by fracking or from World War III or from homelessness, lack of health care or from any of the other myriad of reasons for our demise that we could possibly have done something about and we sat back and did nothing because that was the easiest path to take, archive to your heart’s content. There is plenty of information here. I will no longer be checking out the blogs such as this one as I am only going to ‘follow’ poetry blogs that are ‘deeply from the soul and from the heart’ but I don’t want to read about how fucked up we are when that is already known. I am not going to continue to become angry over our fucked up situation and to no avail. I need some goddamn sunshine in my life and I ain’t getting it by concentrating on shit that’s going to remain shitty and just so you know that I mean what I say, THIS time, here is the link to the new blog that I have created and there will be no “We are fucking doomed!”, nonsense headed there!
Thank you all and for those that continue the useless, uphill struggle, for I will not say ‘battle’ because we never got that far; one less voice will not make any difference. Carry ‘quietly’ on!
The lights go out,
on an empty stage.
No drama unfolds.
Stories untold.
Waiting in the wings,
a cast of characters,
funny or serious,
a triumph or a tragedy
hoping for a star,
no chance to shine
without an audience.
This one is for all the writers out there who are wonderful writers with great stories to tell and who lack an audience and appreciation. Here’s hoping that one day, you’ll get your chance in the limelight and be recognized because everyone has a story to tell and most have many.
shelbycourtland 