Dennis Watson

Today, by Dennis Watson

The point of power is in the present moment… I’m amazed I haven’t given up my focus… I’ve chosen, to be the change I wish to be… 1st, not to confuse my wants with my needs… We’ve been through several thousand storms that a normal person couldn’t fathom… Like taking a noisy toy from a child, we remain unrattled… The greatest battles are waged from within, so we’ve overcome the most catastrophic of wars… We own up & face our most adverse challenges, that most blatantly ignore… Who would really keep score when the 4 corners of the earth slowly crumble? Take the anger we’ve embodied for decades, transformative to humble… The subtle piece of my soul unfolds the true character my integrity molds… Staring holes in each other intensely while we’re almost nose to nose… Neither will ever fold like bad poker hands… The life everyone calls reality is just a chosen trance… Plans are never to be made in the life of unpredictability… Just enjoying the experiences while maintaining tranquillity… The silly me would really be just trying to get attention… Deep down the intelligence I have surpasses most inventors… A surge of energy seems to turn my inner extremities & eliminate little things to smithereens… Today just leads the maturity of things unseen… Some people fear the things they cannot feel, see, or hear… If it’s death, we close in rapidly, so the inevitable is near… We try to steer what we can’t control straining to fold & break the unbendable… Very seldomly I stare at the reflection of us & commend the good I see in you… Another year we do, is another capability of growth… From the things that we lose in the process & none of it mattered that goes… We know what we sew is what we shall reap… The heaping piles of it sometimes stinks, until we turn it to fertilizer… I wish I would’be spent my time more constructively, instead of destructively with Jack Daniels, Blunts, & Budweisers… Who the more wiser to tell than the survivor of the lower self… In the survival of these last 39 years is there another 39 on the shelf? I confess that the thing that beats inside my breastplate is tired & needs relief… Between razorwire & count time when do we have time for grief, never… The emotional things we’ve severed seem to tether back around & smack us so undelicately that it nestles a bruise on our dark complexion… Just another lesson from the most high… I was mostly high until learned that my own karma is what kept me confined… No surprise that the ties we bind overtime seem to slide to the wayside… What was once an embrace of true devotion, is barely a lock of eyes when we pass by… If I had time I’d do this for an eternity… The hardest thing I learned thus far beside trigganometry is learning me… What’s concerning me is… The risk we’ve taken but still unshaken by the mistaken identity death can point out… I choose to elude to my solitude & keep the noise out… Even at my most relaxed times it wouldn’t be a surprise if I pulled a joint out… Please don’t point at us, it’s rude… The mood changes within the strangest of transitions of words unmentioned in silence… With all the positivity diminishing in this world as it twirls my faith of it is in the minus… The spineless stand for nothing… The future that I’ve subdued isn’t within manacles or cuff links… I think before I wink with both eyes synchronized… Everything rapidly changes like water, so nothing is solidified… Besides, why force something on the unwilling… I still play the same hand from April 14th 1980 & really wanna see whose dealing… Nothing really appeals the same to me like it did when we were younger… Just the will to survive & the intelligence to obtain & refrain from the same hunger… Only a monster can spot a monster, & a wolf can smell another… No matter title they choose to fit me with doesn’t feed my inner struggles… The puzzle is never completed without the final piece… I strive for everything beyond my minds ability to reach… Peace, is the upmost of importance… Just know that we’ve come quite a long way from the things that I’ve retorted, today…

Dennis J. Watson
DOC #A632936

Categories: Dennis Watson

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