What a world! Death. Mayhem. Greed. Hate in politics. Hate in families. Hate in the races. Where and with what do we identify ourselves?

So easy to get caught up in our Communication Age technologies. The shitty truth stands as this: as a species, humans are piss-poor communicators. We truly suck at this. With all our “social” media, which is pretty much far from polite, the only things we seem to be able to do is shout nastiness into a digital vacuum at other humans. Pathetic.

Our technologies are not eating our souls. Our technologies already devoured them. Right now our self-made predator is simply digesting us. The irony is that I’m caught up in it all as well. I’m using this site. I’m writing these words.

I’m looking for answers.

When I get to these emotional caverns, I turn to poetry. More and more my need to flee from the digital world presses harder on my soul. Yet, I’m infected like so many others. Maybe this is my way of clawing up the digital esophagus hopefully to be expelled. LOL!

A line from a powerful song touched my flagging soul. I decided I need to write something with the root of this line giving my writing life. I don’t know what words will come. As I key these words I will now discover what I wish to say about the concept of…

“…find a place where there’s room to grow…”

Room to Grow

I viewed my life with my heart in my eyes
The ground my companion while I begged to fly
Fears and trials and life’s overwhelm
I’m a rudderless ship, none man my helm

Not true in so many pedantic ways
A member of society, I “live” out my days
But why don’t I live as I desire and seek
Am I too scarred, too scared, too weak?

All I desire stands in that line
To find a place where there’s room to grow.
Is this too much to ask?
I think not…

Not one outside me holds my answer
No matter how many shall make an attempt
The question to everyone’s answer will always be mine
As will my answer to everyone’s questions be mine

I choose
I choose to live less than I can be
I choose to live in confinement
I choose to wither and suffer as I do

There exist moments
Snippets of time and energy and heart and muse and creativity
Where I thrive.
Where there exists limitless fields of pursuit
A place where there’s room to grow

The voices in our heads do not serve us
Oh, yes, listen to them!
They’ll tell you everything they do for us!
Those occasions when we break our stupor and jettison their caterwauling
We find ourselves
Dried husks.

We do not see our world
We do not feel our world
We do not interact with our world
We pursue our entertainments and diversions.

The place where there’s room to grow resides here:
Our heart.
Our mind.
Our soul.

Not the despicable hatred spewed by other humans.
We must learn how to walk away.
How to keep our mind active.
How to keep our heart feeling.
How to keep our soul from dying.

I use the very technology which has stolen our hearts, minds, and souls.
I don’t know what else to do.
Beauty lies waiting in the breezes, the rains, the sun, the trees.
Just outside.
So close.
I can see freedom.
I can sense freedom.
I can feel freedom.

Get up.
Walk out there.
Become one with my breath.
With my body.
With my surroundings.
If only my mind would come with me.
If only my heart would come with me.
If only my soul would come with me.

And leave all this other shit behind,
I would find

My place where there’s room to grow…

Life and I, we meet now and then, when I am alone…