One Day at a Time

museum in Turkey, stone weapons, stone tools, museum tools–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************

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Naru’s Last Moments — An Excerpt

Prologue

Deep blue light was cast over all the rough rocks and sand of the sweeping desert plain, by a slowly setting blue sun. In that sunset desert, sunset, Fujairah sunrise, Fujairah sunset, beach sunrise, beach sunset, blue sunrise, blue sunsetthere stood an imposing figure, one with black smoky skin, the smoky texture of which seem to swirl around a dim red light. His eyes, as the build of this creature suggested it was male, were glowing yellow with in black slits for pupils.  Ragged grey hairs jutted from its ashen scalp in every direction, frayed and twisted with age.  Hidden just underneath this bird’s nest of hair were the points of two small horns barely jutting out from the creature’s head. Despite horns and these unusual features, he stood on two feet. From the creature’s back, long wavering shadows, like tattered cloth, waved in the wind from their mooring place on its shoulders.

In his cruel red claws, the creature held a grim black bow made of bone and the branches of some long dead tree. With its other hand, the creature reached for a quiver on its hip, selected a long black shaft with crimson feathers and a nasty looking barb on the tip, and knocked the arrow. He drew it to sight the target, and let fly.

Finding My Oasis

By: RS Jacobs (c)2012

desert, sand, dunes, sand dunes,

Like waves washing up on shore;

Like snow falling on the peaks;

Like the sand in an hourglass;

Of them all, you mean much more.

As time flies in days and weeks,

I think of you — the hard times pass.

Every time we speak, it’s like a wave came in,island, snoopy island, beach, shore, waves, snorkeling

And you rode it to me, stranded on the shore.

I know my luck. I keep thinking I’m dreaming.

Yet each wave brings you back, again and again,

And each time one crashes in, I thirst for more.

If I’m asleep, then I want to keep dreaming.

winter, trees, snowy trees, snow on ground, woods, forest, winter wonderlandEach time I see you, it’s like winter’s first snow

That had fallen last night in white drifts and peaks.

I check my eyes. The month’s not even July.

But the snow keeps falling, and that’s when I know,

That when the snow melts and it stays gone for weeks,

The next chance to see your face will make time fly.

When you’re not around, life is like desert sand —oasis, wadi, palm trees, creek, hills, mountain, desert stream

Hot and abrasive and going nowhere fast.

I grit my teeth. It’s been days since I’ve seen grass.

You’re an oasis: life puts you in demand.

When you are back with me, the sandstorm has passed.

Finding you has put an end to the hourglass.

(It Is In) The Eye

by RS Jacobs (c) January 2012

eye, painted eye, blue eye shadow

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.

Nature…Really?

My personal experience with nature-deficit disorder:boy with camera, photographer, young man camera, camera, photography

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

nature, bunnies, bunny rabbit, rabbits, rabbits in cage, boy feeding rabbit

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.

Not Here

by R.S. Jacobs

Can you call a place home…If it seems strange, if it feels wrong?

The time when you  were gone was so long. Can you call that place home?

I’ve got no home, not here. This outcome is my fear.

Home is more than a place to stay; More than a place to pass the day.

I’m glad to have a roof and bed. If I didn’t, I might be dead.

But this place is not home for me. And home is where I’d rather be.

No home, not here.

I would call a place home…If I could sing an endless song.

If I had my friends all day long, I would call that place home.

I’ve got no home, not here. This outcome I won’t fear.

Home is more than a roof and walls; My home will stand when the sky falls.

I’m glad to have a residence, But belief in one makes no sense.

This old place is not home for me. I’ll tell you where I’d rather be.

One home……not here.

trees, sky, sun through trees, blue skies

At the End of the Road

by R.S. Jacobs

Destiny awaits at the end of the road,

Where things look like they’re the worst they can be and

Difficult happens to be the only mode.

The sign says “dead-end,” and your mind starts to bend,

And you think the world has just come to its end.

The child that moved to a town far away,

Who lost her friends by the end of the day,

Wishes it had all gone some other way.

Her daddy left and her mother needs work,

And the neighbor boy next door is a jerk.

She just wants someone; a friend that won’t shirk.

She’s confused by religious litany.

She  just needs a simple epiphany:

That somewhere out there is her destiny.

Destiny awaits at the end of the road,

Where things look like they’re the worst they can be and

Difficult happens to be the only mode.

The sign says “dead-end,” and your mind starts to bend,

And you think the world has just come to its end.

The boy who left his parents and sibs,

And his old life in a number of cribs,

To get his own life ‘fore someone called dibs.

He started over with barely a thing;

Just some threads, some cash, and his dad’s blessing.

He longs to give his one sweet girl a ring.

He started fresh with few things to impart,

But one little ring and his beating heart.

He’s okay, ’cause destiny ain’t costly like art.

Destiny awaits at the end of the road,

Where things look like they’re the worst they can be and

Difficult happens to be the only mode.

The sign says “dead-end,” and your mind starts to bend,

And you think the world has just come to its end.

The young woman who’s out on her own;

She’s kinda poor but she’s not alone.

She lives with her friends and pays off her loans.

She’s paid to take flak from those hungry snobs,

Surrounded by noise till her headache throbs.

No one sees when she breaks down into sobs.

Her hope is for her prince to save her day.

Life is here waiting for his lips to say

That her destiny is right on its way.

Destiny awaits at the end of the road,

Where things look like they’re the worst they can be and

Difficult happens to be the only mode.

The sign says “dead-end,” and your mind starts to bend,

And you think the world has just come to its end.

But the road is changing, so hold on tight.

Don’t quit just because you can’t see the light.

Your greatest day is always after night.

From the lonely girl to the college guy,

And the young woman living on the fly;

From the son at war to those who might die:

The end might seem like it’s written in code,

And things look like omens with ill to bode,

But destiny’s at the end of the road.