There’s a song called ‘Hazelnut Butter’ by Medium Troy. One line says, “I want everyone to call their mom right now and let her know that she’s the shit.” The first time I heard the song, I called my mom directly after. “So, you think I’m the shit?” she said laughing. My mom passed away last year. All I’m saying, is every chance you get to tell someone that you love them, do it. I’m glad I did that day.
There is a deep intimacy
to the music made with you in mind.
There’s a secret sound
buried beneath all the chords.
I’ll be honest, if I didn’t have that,
I wouldn’t believe at all.
But when I close my eyes and sing to you,
There was a time tonight,
when I sang to a group of friends,
the words they say you spoke and speak,
and I cried while I sang them.
I tired to hold it back – like always
and I wondered if that gentle push
was you saying:
“Let go, Ty. Please, just let go.”
A noble person does the hardest, good thing, so they may grow, and does not do the easiest bad thing, even when it might seem justified.
“Now they strike us against each other like dry rocks and set us on fire with a hunger nothing can feed.” – AI, from The Great German Army, Russia, 1943
I don’t think it can rain hard enough to wash all my sins away.
“Let it come, as it will, and don’t be afraid.
God does not leave us comfortless, so let evening come.” – Jane Kenyon
You give me just what I can handle,
but no more! Not a drop over-full do You
throw into my bucket. Not another
heap of hay across my shoulders, wide.
You do not burden, or so You say, but
rare do I believe that! My bucket
is quite full, Sir! My shoulders cannot
bare another bale!
Perhaps I can handle more than I dare
think. Perhaps You are molding me
into something great I cannot yet see.
I like the thought of something great
of me to be made, but I also like the
thought of easy days! The scale is
tipping past the balance You love
I must admit, You have brought me
quite far. You have shown me beauties
of sunrises and sunsets over many
different lands. So if you do not leave
me comfortless, I can go glad into
the blackest night! If you do not leave
me comfortless, then no man shall
stand against me!
As you know, I’ve lost some poems
For some I didn’t mind the losing
But others, the few of significance,
losing them has brought me nothing
“To make room for headstones
marking where and how long and who.”
Title: given by scholars.
Scholar: title given by teacher.
Teacher: a leader of students.
Student: a learner who needs neither title nor teacher to be considered a scholar.