Paint yourself with abandon!

Like an artist’s stroke of the brush, you are a Rembrandt or a Van Gogh.

You will never be a copy. You will never be a failure. You will always be a work of art, an interpretation.

How many times in your life have you said to yourself and nobody else, “I can’t do this anymore?”  If you’re still breathing you have asked yourself the question many times.

How many times have you “answered the bell” sucked it up and did what you thought you couldn’t do?

The answer defines you.

It matters little if you can’t do something you are physically incapable, totally unprepared, poorly trained or simply uneducated to do.  What matters is when there is that defining moment.  You can do it.  You’re in the moment.  You have summoned all your strength, including mind and spirit.  And you succeed.  That’s what defines you.

Some might view you as a success.  Others may view you as a failure. What’s vital is how you view yourself?  You will never be a copy. You will never be a failure. You will always be an interpretation.  You decide.

To illustrate I have included a poem I wrote for my dad who has recently passed away, a victim of Alzheimer’s.

 
If I Was An Artist
Father, patriarch, dad
And if I could paint
Mature, senior citizen , old man,
I would paint the portrait of a man
Provider, benefactor, success
Each word to describe him
Contrary, obstinate, cussed
Would be a different stroke from my brush
Non-conformist, contestant, maverick
Each phrase a different shade
Creative, inventive, colorful
From the palette of his life.
Environmentalist, naturalist, crusader
I would present him his portrait
Integrity, honesty, candid
With pride, his life a work of art.

You too are an artist. Paint yourself with abandon!

Lonely Man, You Know Who I Am

Lonely manI originally wrote Lonely Man for a Montel Williams Poetry Contest for MS charity. I think “Lonely Man” epitomizes how many of us feel from time to time. At the same time it pokes some fun at those same self-effacing feelings. The most humorous aspect is that I had to submit the prose to a site called poetry.com.  They sent me a letter, said they selected me for a “coffee table” edition of their next book and wanted me to spend $45.00 for a copy. Can you believe someone would actually fall for something so ludicrous?!  If you’re interested, I am selling  a serious surplus of these limited edition books for 1.99 on eBay!  Here my contribution… j/k

Lonely man, you know who I am. 

You’re a labor of love, hand and glove. 

If you ever want to shoot for the moon,

You’ll need to bring your own silver spoon. 

Your drink is empty, nothing’s on the table.  

Miguel your waiter, sells only by the label. 

So you dance to music that never ends,

And toast bartender Mike, your new best friend. 

You’re anybody who has a story.

You’re the blood and guts, but no glory. 

You’re the play that’s no longer afloat. 

You’re the poem, you never wrote.

Lonely man, you know who I am.  

You’re a labor of love, hand and glove.

Johnny Cochran’s not your deal.

You’ll never win on your appeal. 

You’re the crowd in every room. 

The conversation that always spells doom. 

You’re the fly that’s always unzipped,

The greeting card, that’s always skipped. 

You’ve become the sweat on everyone’s brow. 

You’re the answer to, “No, not now!” 

You’re the best friend you’ll never have. 

You’re the rub, without the salve.

Lonely man, you know who I am. 

Labor of love, fit hand and glove. 

Win the lottery prize in your office pool? 

What are the odds you’ve played the fool!

You’re someone’s smile, without a face. 

You’re the awkward in an embrace.

You’re the gaze behind an empty stare. 

You’re the voice that isn’t there. 

You’re the cold pavement under bare feet. 

You’re the toothless grin that never eats.

So when you dare ask for a slice of life,

You’re the one to brandish a knife. 

And when your chapter is finally read,

You already know what’s been said.

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