Tag Archives: Thoughts

Out of the Moment


I took a cab yesterday.

When I take a cab, there’s usually a purpose for it.  When I’m in a cab I like peace, quiet and looking at scenery.  I like looking at people’s ugly faces when they jaywalk or run across in front of a moving car even.  But, this cab driver kept taking me out of the moment.  (I guess, in some ways I allowed him to.)

He talked about how awful traffic was from jump.  How traffic this and traffic that.  And I couldn’t understand why he allowed traffic to arouse him in ways he didn’t want to be aroused in.  I observed how he took himself out of the moment simply by focusing on something he should be used to by now.  Maybe this should have amused me?  But, I felt slightly bothered and I was trying to overcome my judgmental side, wondering why he couldn’t give me a more considerate quiet drive.

Traffic shouldn’t be a surprise to a cab driver like I imagine a stripper shouldn’t be surprised by men ogling drunk in lust.  It comes with the occupation.  So, to have saw him and hear the thoughts he could’ve kept to himself as he looked on over to the other side of the highway, “Now I have to wait uptown for at least a half an hour by the hydrant since there’s no way I can come back down” is to put it mildly, a hot mess.

And now I wonder if I’m a hot mess, for having wrote a blog about it. 😉

-Pennington

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Sharp


1

I let my nails grow.
I paint them with the pixie dust that fall from the fairies in my backyard.
I want to speak, but I learned a few things.
If I’m silent like a mouse, my hearing becomes sharper
And I’ll learn better than the mouth who hunts
all at once.

I let my grays grow.
I allow them their passage within my black strands like ornamental streamers
For they retell the wisdom that teaches how darkness beds with the light.
Do you like absence?
It’s where we find ourselves, stark and naked
built like the sacred nature of trees.

The world is beautiful,
but they didn’t tell you this because they wanted to ruin it for you too.
The black magic of which we fight against.
A mashed-up world of thoughts and identities hide in the crisis
Of the bloodstream from all the things you were told, you believed you were not.

How can I tell you the world is beautiful?
We learn to appreciate it late.  The wind, water, the rocks,
And the soil are boundless in a way where we can’t measure on earth
’til we leave this place.  But, until then, let’s love the world today.

-Pennington