#55: Thanks, hot dog man

This poem was written in 2011, the most depressing year ever in sports. And not depressing because my beloved Lakers fell in the playoffs to the Dallas Mavericks, I'm talking about depressing off the field stories. This was the year where Jerry Sandusky was exposed, Barry Bonds found guilty, Jim Tressell punished for unethical conduct, the Dodgers ownership filed for chapter 11, the Miami Hurricanes Ponzi Scheme scandal, the NFL Lockout, the NBA lockout and shortened season, and suicides of Wade Belak, Rick Rypian, and Derek Boorgard of the NHL. For me, these stories were tough to swallow. Whether they be about tragedy or about greed, it was a terrible year for sports. 

Those millionaire athletes with their mighty physiques

They do superhuman feats on the hardwood and green

And those billionaire owners who pay for their way

So we can cheer, on every game day

They make millions and billions, and we appreciate

But it’s not a feeling that they reciprocate

I went to the stadium so I could stand and cheer

For the players who fought hard and showed no fear

But I was remiss to find that they didn’t even care

About all of the people who came to see them there

They were playing for money, they were playing for fame

They were rich while merely playing a game

During halftime us fans would shuffle from our seats

In order to get hot dogs and other good eats

It was when I was in line that I noticed something cool

The hot dog man who was putting his kids through school

He was enthusiastic, though paid minimum wage

And he worked two separate jobs during the day

Then at night he would work for the richest of our kind

And served the people hot dogs, as they waited in line

No one would ever ask him for an autograph

If he were to go on strike, we all would just laugh

Sure he isn't in position to make any demands

Providing for his family are his primary plans

Financially he was on the fringes of societies bubble

But his love for his family enticed him to struggle

If I examined him closely, I know what I would find

And upstanding man, the best of our kind.

#54: Sink into the Setting Sun

So this poem came to me while driving home from work. It was a long day and I was merging on to the freeway heading towards the pacific ocean. As I looked out in to the darkness of night, I thought about what the sunset would look like as it sinks in to the ocean. Then I thought, that would make a great poem! During the rest of my drive I was just trying to remember the words in my head so I could write it down once I got home. Luckily, the words stayed with me so here it is!

On the beach under the sky so blue

The descending brilliant orange hue

That ball of heat, a flame so bright

Foretelling of the dark of night

The ocean calls the setting sun

Once it sinks, the day is done

The sea now inked like indigo

The clouds begin to lose their glow

As the sky transforms to black

The beauty of just moments back

Retained in mind and memory

But night is now reality

#53: Daughter Lost at Sea

I thought this week, I could go through my thought process for how this poem was written. Most of my poems begin with a spark of inspiration. Usually a theme or a story pops in to my head and then I begin to put it down on paper. One thing I have learned is that music can help me with writing in a specific iambic form. The music acts as a counting mechanism while I'm trying to put lines together. That allows my mind to focus on the words as the music provides the flow. 

For this poem, the melody from Jeff Mangum's, "Little Birds" provides the inspiration. You can watch him perform this brilliant song here. Now the lyrics of his song are phenomenal and my poem below isn't nearly as good as what he created, but the way hes sings the song resonated in my mind and caused me to write this poem in the manner in which he sings. 

Thematically, my poem is completely different from Jeff's song, but the form in which I wrote the poem is wholly derivative of his musical creation. Of course, it is likely that the melody he created is derived from someone else's melody, but I'm no music expert, so I don't really know. The beautiful thing though, is that creative work is always derived from something else. Jeff Mangum's work provided the melodic inspiration, some random creative spark provided the theme, and then the work for me personally was putting the words together.

Little girl on a boat, she fell into the water

Lost for half an hour I hope that one of us will spot her

I do not know but I can see the distress in her father

No one loves her more because she is his only daughter

I look out to sea, but only eye the big waves cresting

My eyes have been searching but they are in need of resting

All I hear are frantic yells, of all of us distressing

I hope she is not lost for long cause that would be depressing

Nightfall is approaching fast as the waves keep on coming

Her father is determined and he’ll keep this boat on running

To find her just as the sun sets, wouldn’t that be something

But if we don’t find her soon, this night will be our haunting

A little girl lost at sea, the place of her last visit

A day trip with her loving dad the food it was exquisite

Of all the trips they had gone on, this would have been her favorite

But now this is a nightmare that her father cannot forget

As he grieves, we all can see his pain

As night falls, we come to comfort him

She is gone, in the waves of the ocean

And now he is left here, to wait for heaven… to wait for heaven

#52: Better to be Broken

You see of me, so many things

But what of things unspoken?

What’s deep inside, I try to hide

Hoping it won’t be awoken

I act so odd with this façade,

Only my surface you see me flaunting

Down to the bone I feel alone

To conceal so much of me is daunting

As time attacks, my surface cracks

Exposed and out in the open

Why do I claim perfections name?

When it’s better to be broken

The stupid lies and fake disguise

It leaves so much of me in wanting

Beyond these clues are Holy truths

That can end this wicked haunting

#51: Fate and the Lion

Jealousy and hate, we all can relate

This is our state, but it’s not our fate

We are born liars, with sinful desires

Burning in fires, consumed by the flame

But God is not tame, he is a lion

Perfect to follow, only if we buy in

We look at life, we look at the goal

Only one man was pure

And only he makes us whole

So this is my role, I've found my new place

My life’s not a waste

This is one of the first poems I remember writing that I still have today. It was probably my sophomore year in college, maybe junior year. I learned a lot about God during this time period and had some of the closest friendships that I've ever had. Good times and fond memories.

#50: Contribution and Consumption

Look at high society, the powerful and mighty

The ratio to riches, truly unsightly

To the left of the middle, solve this riddle

How do so many end up with so little

It isn't fair until I get my share,

You getting yours? I don’t care

If my contribution equals my consumption

It’s a zero sum game left for my name

  

Examining lanes of capital gains

Leads me to conclude this system’s insane

We demand fairness, but fairness is a joke

Because the end will leave all of us broke

Is fairness really so great? It's definitely a key component in a  capitalist society, but I don't think its all its cracked up to be. Most of the time, when someone says something is unfair, its from a selfish perspective. If our end goal is for fairness, I don't think we're dreaming big enough. 

My King

These demons, these monsters they roar in my head

Wanting and wishing for my soul to be dead

Ignited by hatred, revulsion and deceit

To me they are vicious; to the world they’re discreet

I am trapped in this desert, in this pit of despair

I know of no answers, only hopes and prayers

The monsters would hurt, the pain crippling

No joyous moments, no occasions to sing

I wept and cried as I searched in vain

For a way to escape from my wretched pain

I searched up and down inside of myself

But everything I found would be of no help

I was unable to see things with my own two eyes

I could only notice the things I despised

My guilty heart chained me to the ground

As ravenous vultures circled around

A desert had become the essence of my being

To die had become an acceptable thing

But alas I would spot a glimmer of hope

A cavalry in the distance swiftly approached

My king led the charge, his sword in the air

His armor was shimmering; crown nesting his hair.

A tad bit surprised, I didn't know how to react

My king was in danger, I was taken aback

I said, “What good is a king who leaves his throne,

To search for peasants leaving the palace alone?”

He heard my thoughts and with wise words and sound sense

He said “my kingdom is precious, but in no need of defense,

We aren't fighting for justice, or just for what’s right

We are fighting for your soul, with our power and might.

We have taken stock, and this is of great worth

And we agree that we must fight; our subjects we serve.”

I thought it quite extraordinary that a king could feel free

From his powerful position and come here for me

But all battles are perilous; there always will be a cost

And my king was taken prisoner, all was seemingly lost

The monsters were overjoyed to take the king and his crown

But their original mission was to take my soul down

It was withered and rotten, beaten and bruised

I just witnessed my king fall and my soul was confused

My monsters approached with my king in their hands

They shouted out obscenities and cowardly demands

The monsters claimed to be justice, and oddly it was true

They demanded penitence, for my soul was askew

But my king made a deal which kept the monsters at bay

He said “I’ll cover the cost, what is the price he must pay?”

The monsters couldn't believe it; I nearly lost my breath,

“The punishment is quite steep, the punishment is death”

They took my king to the darkest of caves

They claimed it was a terrible prison for slaves

Inside it was darkness, perfect pitch black

No slave who entered ever came back

But when my king entered the prison, it lit up like fire

His radiance shown to be a power much higher

But the brilliant brightness would reveal dismay

We could now see the caves horrors, the death and decay

There were thousands of prisoners, in shackles all around

Malnourished and decrepit, they could not make a sound

Their groans were left silent, for they had become weak

All that hung from their shackles were their bony physiques

Their eyes were glazed over, their gaze like a stone

Their hearts filled with emptiness, they were trapped and alone

The king let me know what he was about to do

“I came for these prisoners, as well as for you

They are imprisoned by evil, by the world’s misdeeds

But soon they will be alive, soon they’ll be freed.

These monsters have not seen the height of my power

But that time soon will come, it is almost the hour”

The king was taken to the center of the cave

They shackled him up like the lowliest slave

They burned his hair, they tore his clothes

They pummeled his body with ferocious blows

He took on the punishment, he never fought back

Each demon took a shot, each hit a good crack

The shots got more vicious, the hits became rough

I screamed at the injustice, I screamed out “ENOUGH!”

“This punishment has more than death on its slate

Yet this man has done nothing to deserve this fate”

Then my king looked at me, with peace in his eyes,

And said “Don’t worry my child, the sun will still rise.”

He looked to the heavens as he breathed his last

And the radiant brightness turned back into black.

It was quiet all of the sudden, in the black unknown

I fell to my knees, I wept and I moaned

“What have you done, where is my king?”

“You demons have done a most terrible thing.”

The demons in the darkness shouted and hissed

“You are free wretched one, your names off our list

Go back home, with those burdens you've carried

Your king he is gone, he is dead and he is buried

And lastly, a warning, if you ever should return

We will rip you to pieces, your body, it will burn

I went back home but with regret in the air

My king he was dead, my punishment laid bare

He took it out of love, he took it for me

But what am I to become, who shall I be?

My king was innocent; he had done nothing of blame

I couldn't comprehend that he died in my name

In the faintest of night I heard the quietest call

To return to the place where I saw my king fall

At first I must admit, I was quite scared

What of the demons, that didn't want me there?

The voice was reassuring, and said with tenderly care

There is no danger in that land, there is nothing to fear

I expected the cave to be dark once again

But I came upon a surprise when I reentered in

The once rocky cave now lined with pure gold

Flowing honey and wine, a sight to behold

There was music and dancing, joy in the air

Fanciful clothing, with pomp and with flair

The cave was the location of a beautiful banquet

There were patrons prancing about, the enemy vanquished

I did not understand, I couldn't believe what I saw

Were these the hopeless souls that were too weak to crawl?

“Redemption, Redemption!!” the former prisoners chanted

“The evil in this land has been forever supplanted”

I looked at the walls, not a shackle in sight

What could have turned such despair into delight?

A man heard my question and said, “Don’t you see?

Our king conquered death, our king set us free?”

I looked down the hall, and behold, His throne!

So majestic, so glorious, of beauty unknown

I looked to see if my King was around

But soon could see he was nowhere to be found

At least not in the palace and not in plain sight

“Is he off to a new land, a new battle to fight?”

“He has gone off to show the world what grace is

To turn guilty eyes into innocent faces

To set free more souls bound by their sin

To let them start over fresh once again

Before he left them, he cast a most glorious vision

Of a kingdom of love, with freedom its mission