A big bowl of hope for breakfast

Believing is something many do to stay young at heart; others just want some sort of excitement and there are those that feel believing with the same hope that people once did before the world was as corrupt or as polluted with anger as it is will carry on daily desire to live with childish ambition. I said it outloud to myself today and than said it to someone else;that if all of us believed in one thing a day with as much strength and demand as we would of when we were kids the world and our success not just to us but to others would become a lighter more peaceful place. Heavy hearted we become on a daily clock and protocall routine for the life some people "think" they are supposed to lead;we have become masters of pretending and tend to forget what it is we were initially in search of. I choose to put my one childish hope into people. I see this one homeless man everyday on my way home from work and although I have very little to give he doesn't know that. My car window never seems so thick for my eyes can't tell him I'm sorry I have no money it's been spent on beer and gas; but everyday he comes to my window anyway and everyday he still believes that the three same cars that were in front of me yesterday that gave nothing may change their mind today looks at me and believes that my mind will change. When it's not my mind saying I can't in the first place, It's my wallet. But everyday he gives me something for having hope in people the way a child does. They don't ask for a lot, they sometimes expect it yet in that small miniscule part of my day; the minute and a half where I know he sees me and he knows I see him is a part of my day that I look forward to; not for the guilt I feel in giving nothing but knowing how much he believes in the eyes not the words of strangers, and I respect him and look at him not for his clothing or lack there of but that he may just be a rich man who looks homeless-he is rich in his believing in people that don't believe in him. Hope is never lost-its in the fear of losing that hope is lost.

valentines day

As we watch new stories of love and old ones to pass by,we wonder what brought them here what brought them eye to eye. I wonder how their love is measured what strength they have what they may or may not have endured to get to where they are. Or if the simple fiscade of this so called "loving" holiday has brought them out or in these doors for simple obliged reasoning. And "if" I say only "if" that were the case where will they be next year. Celebrate at heart whether that be inside or out, celebrate knowing that you won't be disapointed for what the day did or did not bring. Celebrate for I know my heart is the same shape just as full and just as warm as it was yesterday and will be tomorrow. Only with those things alone will I feel neutral enough at heart to let someone other than myself represent a possible love and bring any miniscule particle of this holiday to my spirit.The particle that would make the paper mache heart signifying the emotions that love represents to me.

2 in 1

My one eye waters is it half my heart crying or my cup being so full that it's leaking? Either way it's unavoidable and whether I wipe it away taking my weakness and doubts with it; or I leave it showing pride in the way it has been and knowing I shed tears for the way it's turned out;It will be there. Yet I find myself every minute wiping it once it's half way down my cheek; stopping it before it rolls down my chin toward my heart; for it may already be crying and if it does make it down my chin it will just be water solidifying my paper mache heart. Made up of fragile pieces of the newspaper of my life; of stories short and true long and new all building up the layers and the strength of the heart shielding my cup of what this life is and what is has been. This tear changes from eye to eye everyday and in that peace does lay for knowing I've seen and done at each days dusk 2 in 1.

3:17 am