One Day at a Time

–By: RS Jacobs (c) 2012

Every night I get to thinking

Of what my life has become.

I think I grew up while blinking,

And I still feel just as dumb.

Maybe he and I switched bodies,

Wishing on a magic lamp.

This college-age guy still thought he’s

Way back there in summer camp.

 

Think what you know me by.

That’s how I will stay.

See the real me through the grime.

We don’t see eye to eye,

Because your “one day”

Is my “one day at a time.”

 

Yesterday when I was a kid,

They asked me what I would be.

But twenty years, who would have bid

On that kid still being me?

I wanted to join the force,

And now I live to protect.

I’d have killed to ride a horse,

And I’m not giving up yet.

 

People think dreams are distant,

If they happen at all.

But asked to name mine, I can’t,

’cause I’m living them all.

They all think nightmares don’t end,

That they’ll last forever.

But I see around the bend.

That chain is severed.

 

Think what you know me by.

That’s how I will stay.

 

See the real me through the grime.

We don’t see eye to eye,

Because your “one day”

Is my “one day at a time.”

 

Every day I start up thinking

Of what my life can become.

I see all my problems shrinking,

Count my friends, and see the sum.

I wish you could see through my eyes

In the dread darkest of days,

See all the struggle yet realize

Cheese at the end of the maze.

 

You think you know – you think I don’t see;

You fear what is staying – you wish I could be

More than I am, more than this grime,

More than the me that I am all the time.

There’s something to say of the man I’d become,

But you’re wrong if you think I’m twiddling my thumbs,

 

Because your “one day”…

…is my “one day at a time.

********************************************RSJ2012************

Death’s Court

–by: R S Jacobs

The ashen soil is littered with broken, discarded hilts.
The earth and stone are spattered with darkened, disheartened stains.
Blood-scarlet moonlight descends as arrows cease their falling.
No lofty goal is fought for; all herein indulging guilt.
Each of us fights our battles all alone; surviving pain.
But I am still here, resolved, to finish this damned calling.

I fight alone
I fight alone
No allies, no support
I stand alone
I stand alone
No backup, no cohort
This is my own
This is my own
My audience – death’s court.

When the battle began, I thought I had an army.
I stood a chance, I could prevail, with them on my side.
Evil would fall, victory won, the day would be mine.
But this force was beset with lies; they would betray me.
And those who stayed were not enough; each one turned aside
For their interests prevailed, and mine were just left behind.

I live alone
I live alone
No loving, no good night
I die alone
I die alone
No gravestone, only spite
This is my own
This is my own
My audience – death’s court.

I fight alone
No allies, no support
I stand alone
No backup, no cohort
I live alone
No loving, no good night
I die alone
No gravestone, only spite
This is my own…

My audience – death’s court.

isms

R. S. Jacobisms:

 

Life, at times, is about losing what you value, and gaining an appreciation for the value of what you still have.

 

What you seek will come to you in time. What you run from will find you quickly.

 

I take a step forward, in faith that I will take another, and not take my next one back. Here’s to progress, and to finding joy no matter what.

Bleed

by R.S. Jacobs

Day breaks and you want to sleep.
Rise, don’t shine, the world’s too much
To handle. Too hard to keep
Starting over; keeping touch
With those few awesome people.

Red arteries bring the new blood in;
Blue veins take it back for more.
Days like this, your patience has grown thin
With the trash life has in store.
How long until the red bleed begins?

Life blood oozes slowly out
Through a thousand paper cuts.
The biting salt removes all doubt;
Citrus sting dissolves the rut.
Scars are left in skin throughout.

When the red itself will let
The flow go for time unknown,
It’s up to you – renew and get
Rid of your own bad-blood tone.
Stop the bleed, flow-change, you’re set.

(It Is In) The Eye

by RS Jacobs (c) January 2012

There is no strength in the size of your arms,

Or chest, or legs, or back.

All you do with those is push things around –

Pull them, move them, break them.

No mass is needed to show your strength;

The weak can be strong, too.

True strength is found in those who have the heart

To stand, defend, and love.

There are no smarts in the years of your school,

Or grades, or cards, or facts.

All the good those do is puff yourself up,

And make you look the best.

Wisdom is not found in your diploma;

Your “fools” know that is true.

Wisdom is found in knowing your mistakes,

And what to do with them.

The weak can be strong and fools can be wise;

It all lies in the heart.

For Want of Magic Thread

In A Dream (For Want Of Magic Thread)^[1]

by: RS Jacobs

I dream of what I have never witnessed,

Such dreams as I have not heard of before;

A world where I may shoot flame from my fist,

Or else one of pure light and bright color.

I fly adorned in light angel’s plumage,

Then fall into Dante’s circles of doom.^[2]

My mind then shifts to twisted homage,

With my rich crop caught in temptress’ vile loom.^[3]

Beasts hide in my mind to cruelly conspire;

Will I from this nightmare ever egress?

If I cannot escape this foul mind’s mire,

Then I will not ever in life progress.

If all is as my mind makes these things seem,

I have great doubt I will escape this dream.

–RSJacobs 2011

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^[1] This is a reference to the story of Theseus and Ariadne, in which Theseus must navigate Daedalus’ labyrinth to slay the Minotaur, then find his way out. Daedalus built the labyrinth so confusingly that he himself nearly failed to escape. When Theseus was challenged to this daunting task, Ariadne gave him a skein of enchanted thread that would show him the way out.

^[2] Dante Alighieri, writer of the Divine Comedy – Inferno, Purgatory, and Paradise. In the story of Inferno, Dante travels through the Nine Circles of Hell.

^[3] This refers to the Biblical story of Samson and Delilah, in which Delilah wished to know the source of Samson’s supernatural strength and how to remove that power. Samson lied to her, saying that weaving his hair into a loom would drain him of all his strength.

When Everything Seems Lost

By: RS Jacobs

To my compatriots, who are fighting alongside me in their own quests: keep fighting, even when everything seems lost.

Words to Uplift

To the heavy-laden:

Watch your work carefully, and know that while you need not quit, you must stop at some point, for some time, or else be too fatigued to continue working.

So long as you lift and carry that burden may your strength be renewed, your endurance rendered even stronger, and your legs given strength for one more day.

To those making difficult decisions:

Peace to you in your time of trial. Know that you are not alone: there are others who can give you valuable inspiration to make the right choice.

Seek out those people. May your mind be clear, your decision wise, and your heart unladen by what may or may not be.

To those who suffer a great sorrow:

May love and joy fill your life in this difficult time. May your sorrow soon wane and fade, in favor of a brighter future.

Find a friend who is willing to bear with you. Learn of their troubles, and be there for them, as there are few greater solutions to sorrow than to occupy your time with others, rather than yourself.

To those ensnared by the cruelty of society:

Do not let the withering words of society bring you down. Instead, take strength under their pressure, and emerge the better for it.

Bear their intensity for only long enough that you benefit from the resistance, then break free and stand firm.

RS Jacobs © 2011

Elsewhere to Be

Unrest brings straining lungs and burning eyes,

And permits dreams to invade.

With every wound and each person who dies,

That exacted price is paid.

That which has feathers fall and scales arise,

On the hearts of living weighed.

Each day that passes brings the night’s reprise,

And time would self and else fade.

The ground beneath unsteady feet vies,

For the place where water’s laid.

A clouded sky betrays even the wise,

And threatens with bitter rain.

Darkness falls and shrouds all in somber guise;

Hides truth in the mess it made.

But that hidden truth will not so remain;

Shade now lifted, all are free.

The grim threat leaves with the subsiding rain,

And clouds find elsewhere to be.

–RS Jacobs (c)2011

Nature…Really?

My personal experience with nature-deficit disorder:

Symptoms include:

NOT getting bug bites

NOT losing skin and blood off your wrists thanks to trees

NOT having a bad ankle for two days after jumping out of said tree

NOT having mud caked on your shoes

NOT smelling like swamp gas

Being able to sleep at night

Are bunnies a safe cure?

As of personal experience, nature therapy has been GREAT. Not a day goes by where I miss having skin that doesn’t have holes in it. I look back on my time indoors, and I say, “You know, I like getting four hours of sleep because of eternal itching. I don’t know how I ever lived without it!”

On a serious note, yes it is good to be in the outdoors. But yes, prolonged experience to it is just as bad as being inside all the time, if not far worse.

I am RS Jacobs and I approve this message.