invisible servitude's blog: "New Poetry"

I have opposable thumbs, I'm covered in fur. Is that enough to truly concur? A monkey is out there evolving away? Tomorrow that monkey may wake up and say: You poor fool it was never your day.

Kendyll’s beach trip poem” July 20, 2008 Kendyll’s 1st beach trip. Age Almost 4. I went on a camping trip with my mom and dad. There was sun. It was hot. I really was bad. I got to the beach and saw all the water. Then got in my swimsuit and caused quit a bother. I saw sand crabs fiddling, and playing in mud. I walking in the sand, my shoes filled with crud. I looked at the water, and fins I did see. I cried, “SHARK!”, but mistakened I be. Two cold grey dolphins were cruising the surf. They were easing on by, protecting their turf. I saw the water in a whole new light. Now I was worried about big things that bite. Dad explained that dolphins are safe. They chase the ole sharks all over the place. The water it called in waves and smooth tones. Whispering, Kendyll come and make me your home. So in it I tested, a step at a time. Hot and cold feeling, moving in rhyme. The saltwater took me and tugged at my soul. Who’d I come with? Where should I go? My mother is calling, faintly I hear. A meal she is offering, but the ocean I hear. Another step I take, Another call I mishear. Then I am lifted by the hands of my father. No more ignoring the meal I’ve been offered. Packed across sand, and plopped on my butt. I wish I had listened. Am I out of luck? Dad went to fishing in waves that still beckon. I’ll Choke down this sandwich and pester him I reckon. The sun, he is falling. Time’s running by. The wind, she is blowing. Prickling my hide. Shiver, I do… My mom sure looks worried. She whisks me away to the campfire in a hurry. The tent is all ready for my little head. I need a big rest. Where is my bed?

What is SIN? The nagging voice in the back of your head that reminds you of your mother when you were bad as a child? What is SIN? The action that you repeat only to find the same result in the end as the last time you did that same exact action? What is SIN? An obligation to something greater than yourself that was broken or just an obligation to yourself which was forgotten? What is SIN? A cruel master that forces you to be unhappy because you fear the unknown and you need someone else to tell you what to think? What is SIN? It is being NOTHING. Not leaving a MARK. And having the world forget you ever existed, much like a single speck of sand in a dust storm.