An ode to anger

Ah, anger,

Irritation that makes the tongue lash out where it might otherwise be held still and useless.  That magic little quirk in the mind that lets me find annoyance in things that I’d otherwise forget.  You’re the glue that helps me cling to those grievances that might get lost in the shuffle if I’m careless.

That temper you provide, I put to such good use.  How else could I blame, condemn, seek vengeance for things I’ve been guilty of myself?  Where would be the fun? You give me freedom to escape a sense of justice or fairness.  To hell with hypocrisy! Hallelujah! That meddlesome conscience cannot hold me now.  I’m in a mood! Let me be!

You’re the corkscrew that gives those awesome explosions when I’ve bottled up all I can until it can’t be contained.  What a glorious shower of verbal shrapnel can ensue and make minced meat of another’s heart.  That evil laugh must surely be emanating from elsewhere beyond my own throat.  No matter.

You give me courage to speak when I cannot think straight.  How awful it would be to lie idle in impotence when there’s a wrong that the world must know about and the perpetrator made to pay. Can I just sit there with my teeth in my mouth when you give me so much passion?

To stew, with you, even after it’s all through

How good it feels to simmer for hours or days when I might let it drop without your steady hand.   I don’t need to sleep when I have you for company, by my side day and night, leading me through silliness and folly with a focus that filters out distractions for me, so that I don’t get caught up in daily life and miss my mission’s fruition.  To inflict at least as much damage as has been done to me.  It’s my right! I will have my day!

Oh, my friend, I would never give you up, come hell or high blood pressure, for surely I would…  I would….

Do some good? Make the world a better place? Lift up others instead of cast them down? Mend hearts and relationships instead of tear asunder? Be happier and healthier? But that’s so hard, and you’re so easy.  That’s why I liked you.

Yet, I will not miss you.

The Timelessness of Futility

A poetic reflection jotted down in my yellowing writing notebook this cold night.

Extremes take turns on the see-saw.
Often wrong and never mixed.
The pendulum swings,
And in between is apathy.
As the most well-grounded
Muddle through mediocrity.
The tides come in.
The tides go out.
And the shore stands still
Against the storm.
God bides time
While men play games.
The pendulum swings,
Marking time
While the world spins.
Is the end determined,
Or do the determined decide the end?
Time and tide,
Space and soul.
All will be told.

Life is Bipolar

Life tears you up

Then folds you back into a gentle caress

Before spinning you off its hand like a jazz dancer

Right into the waiting seat of a roller coaster.

And when it stops,

You’re ready to go again.

Each ride, you see something different,

Once you stop screaming and open your eyes.

You see the person screaming next to you,

And how that used to be you.

The couple behind you,

The family ahead.

The trees, as they change seasons faster and faster,

until you can’t tell if you’re moving or they are.

Then, you find peace when the syncronized motion

Becomes the same as the stillness inside you.

Balance and harmony abide in you.

You stagger off from the ride,

Not from unsteady feet,

But from the unquenchable soul that pulls you on

To the next adventure

In a dream state

That leads your body

Through surreal awareness to

Serene chaos.

 

Written by Mark Thomas Ritchey

May 31, 2014, unedited