It’s funny now to think
of all the things that bothered me
of all the pain and suffering
of all the time, temporary
of all the boredom and writing
(there was a lot of it)
of all the clouds that passed me by
of all the insults I let fly
of each and every teenage guy
that harassed me – pretty damn good
I gotta say
of all the humdrum slow sales days
of all the ones who got away
of all the patrons that did play
of all the couples, straight and gay
(had to use the rhyme)
of all the goddamn wasted time
of all the lemons and no lime
all of the coke, the hash, the crime
of getting the nickel not the dime
of all the puke, and dye and slime
of all the nights I spent awake
of all the pictures I did take
of all the muffins I did bake
of all the calmness I did fake
all for the goodness’ sake!
It’s funny now to think
that all that suffering
had its purpose and its place
carried me through this time and space
with a name I tried to lose, but stayed
with an identity that just won’t fade
with a childlike quality that wants to play
believing summer starts in May
wearing bare feet in the stream
ever remembering the dream
(I’d never lose the Buddhist theme)
for while it helps me to escape
it helps me to survive
it helps me to help others
it helps me to be kind
it helps me be of service
it helps me to be strong
it helps me to be happy
it helps me to get along
it helps me every when
it helps me every where
it helps me every how
it helps to simply care
and certainly, when we met
It was my summer reappeared
all the pain and suffering
all the heartache, all the tears
all the happiness, the joy
all the hope and possibility
all the sunshine and noise
all the soft tranquility
all the disappointment
all the vanity
all the goddamn fears
all the animosity
all the craving and the yearn
all the cash I couldn’t earn
all the parties and the crash
all the littered trash
how did these memories appear
dependent upon you?
how did all my hopes and dreams
dissolve in summer’s blue?
The Halfwit Writer 