Growing Up

Unborn Unto Oblivion

Stu opened up the D'verse floor for his Poetics night at the pub with the question of Growing up.  Really a lot of ways one could tackle this theme and I highly recommend going over to D'Verse and checking out Stu's excellent article and all the incredible pieces shared by the poets there, of which, we'd all love to read what your response would be.  So, if you get the inspiration, simply compose your own poem on Growing up and then follow the link guidelines to join on in.


Growing up,
Is the combination of innovation and experience
Growing up,
is but a step by step approach to a paint by numbers scheme

Growing up,
Is everything you've never seen and all you wish you never did
Growing up,
Is the gamut of emotions and the ability to call them up upon command
Growing up,
Is sacrifice
Growing up,
Is Never letting them see you sweat
Growing up,
Is not being afraid to quote a deodorant's slogan
Growing up,
Is elation and joy
Growing up,
Is universality
Growing up,
Is arthritis, hypertension and grey hair
Growing up,
Is individually wrapped
Growing up,
Is mass marketed and overproduced
Growing up,
Is both in Hardcover and in Paperback
Growing up,
Is seen in both digital and analog
Growing up,
Is to love and to know, if you haven't loved yet, you still can
Growing up,
Is having a plan
but also knowing when to crumple it into a ball and toss it away

I could've quoted Kenny Rogers
but I'm currently boycotting poultry
and I don't have a handle on the strike zone quite yet

Growing up

     Is making the decisions that do not have alternatives

Growing up

     Is knowing that sometimes failure increases victory

Growing up

     Is learning not to provide the valid argument

Growing up

     Is owning one’s fears and trepidations

Growing up

     Is appreciating your most unattractive qualities

Growing up

     Is not making a choice at all

Growing up

     Is eating the last piece

Growing up

     Is foregoing what you truly desire

Growing up

     Is not caring what anyone thinks

Growing up

     Is simultaneously exploding and imploding

Growing up

     Is letting your opponent win

Growing up

     Is extending equality to all things

Growing up

     Is walking upon eggshells while blindfold

Growing up

     Is acting oafish to accomplish the most delicate of tasks

Growing up

     Is allowing immaturity its due

Growing up

     Is making dreams out of house dust

Growing up

     Is not suppressing what is welled inside

Growing up

     Is ensuring nightmares are seen through

Growing up

     Is getting it

Growing up

     Is nonchalant, ambivalent, carefree and lethargic

Growing up

     Is yesterday, today and tomorrow

Growing up

     Is shrinking

Growing up

     Is not giving a damn

Growing up

     Is incongruent

Growing up

     Is fatalistic

Growing up

     Is dancing with two broken legs

Growing up

     Is to travel into the belly of the lion for the last safety clip

Growing up

     Is moving from the individual to that of the collective

Growing up

     Is plagiaristic

Growing up

     Is necessary

Growing up

     Is gesturing, solely to say hello

Growing up

     Is forgetting to make your farewell rounds

Growing up

     Is not taking oneself so seriously

I could've quoted Kenny Rogers

but I'm currently boycotting poultry

and I don't have a handle on the strike zone quite yet 

Growing up is inevitable, so enjoy it while you can

    

    

Random Notes From A Wavering Pen

He who laughs first most likely told the joke

The bane of the modern world provides us with potentials for both prosperity and death.  The western civilization of the modern world has engrained a desperate type of vanity.  One whose seeds can be found percolating within each of us; can be traced all the way back to well before the abhorrence of birth ever took place in the corner of our parent’s youthful eyes—glimmering so magnificently, as can only be seen through the glossy glow of teenage eyes experiencing love for the very first time.  Even when, upon further review, what they are actually feeling is much closer in regards to love’s antithesis, than it ever could possibly be resembling to that of this blaring and overused notion of fate, of predestined stories—you know, those being whispered from the mouths of the yet to be developed teenage daughters to the ears of never-shaved-a-day in their lives pre-adolescent sons of angst, or otherwise known as the children of suburbia.  

Today’s children apostrophize their every action.  Every peak and every valley is open for praise, bemoaning, amateur psychoanalysis and ridicule—by their peers, or anyone else that happens to take notice, or make it their mission in life to keep the closest tabs upon the day-to-day lives of complete strangers.  Today’s youth document all of the flattering events; additionally they advertise all of those actions relatively considered unbecoming—ranging from the regrettable to the unadvisable, from the ignorant to the grotesque. Today’s young adult illustrates their thoughts, actions, activities and hobbies in a way that can procure stunning, if not stupefying and jaw-dropping, reactions to the unsuspecting viewing audience.  Granted some of these unprepared folk come from older generations, but many are simply raised in much more conservative, and if I may say, proper upbringings.   Yet, the one thing I can say, without a doubt, is that the old rebel without a care in the world attitude has successfully transcended generations.  The only variance I should mention, is that where, as before, in prior times, you’d tell your best friends about your problems, whether relationship wise or those “unjustly” encountered on the home-front, now you tell, in effect, the entire world, whether intentional or not.

This is done, to the point where predators are simply gifted a wealth of knowledge, a world of research and information at their fingertips.  They are given the nauseating opportunity, to learn about their unsuspecting future prey.  These sickos of the world have devolved into a much more educated, sophisticated and intelligent group of scumbags.  No longer do these predators salivate on images alone, now they need to, and are more than capable of, filling in the blanks.  They are privy to everything—all the strengths and weaknesses—allowing them the opportunity to amply prepare a best-practices strategy for foolproof domination and “success.”  And then, once the prey have fallen victim, the world judges and grades, everything from sincerity to emotional relevance in a pathetic game of opinions.  Some people, will then—while themselves risking a backlash of criticism for being unsympathetic or insensitive—will claim, that perhaps these predators are, while on a whole other plane of nasty, not much worse than those in big business—those that utilize the information granted them to prosper, running over whomever they have to on the way to achieving their goals; and perhaps there are some, who decide to look upon a victim’s case objectively, analyze all the information optionally divulged and made public, and honestly wonder aloud, questioning as to where that line should be drawn, as to—when does it get to the point that someone is inviting demons into their lives?   Well, we all do this to some extent, and demons are constantly around us, but, I like to think there are still plenty of angels too—so who knows?

And then there are other’s out there, who look at life much more casually. These folks are enjoying all the various bits and pieces of information and entertainment available, using it solely for, information and entertainment.  These are the types of people that still gather up their dog’s half-chewed toys and place them all together, grab themselves a hairbrush, hold it upside down and sing so loud the neighbors can hear:

I’ve got fever

I’ve got fire

I’ve been bit by love’s desire

Cage me

Engage me

Let it show

Where that came from…I don’t care nor need to know.

He who laughs last most likely is the punchline.

Yet those who’ve learned to laugh at an early age… rarely grow into running gags…or that’s all they ever become…a walking punchline in a world of “fun.”   But just because life’s a gamble doesn’t mean you shouldn’t play.