Saturday, February 15, 2014

Elephant Journal Publication

Please read and share.

http://www.elephantjournal.com/2014/02/it-is-light-joseph-treubig/


Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Father

Pass away moment
Returns in memory form-
Foam drips down,  bubbles from a carwash
I give to my loved one’s transportation-
Transporting-
Transcending time,
Holding so much more, life that I adore
In her belly before
This memory came knocking at the door
Outside of you in blacktop basketball shoes shooting jumpers-
You were the news, everyday they don’t report-
You were the news, the stability and support
Every family needs-
Actions unheeded, the quiet one
Going about his business
Fulfilling his duties of fatherhood and husband
Good deed after good deed
Godspeed, day and night
Emotions out of sight if not for the occasional outburst-
We were okay with it, in a way it reaffirmed that you cared
About how we fared
Out in the cold air,
Filling our hearts with love
Giving sis and I a good start, and we’ve never grown apart-
These are the memories stored away I won’t ever part with, of you and mom
Unconditionally giving,
We all go on living, extending this family
That grows with tender loving care,
Nurtured and nourished, as it always was
And will be.

Freedoms


Freedoms

 

The leaves of tall, mortal trees

(Part of the landscape of every free nation,

(Part of the immortal seed)

Tumble helplessly,

Withered, bitten and stained

Like good, decent men—

Loyal to the roots

Loyal to the birth of mortality, our humanity

Loyal to the foundation and structure constructed

By men who came before, standing large and proud

Though none higher than our mortal trees

(Part of the singular deity),

Bearing many different kinds of sweet, juicy fruit in our time,

And for tens of thousands of generations coming before,

History tells us.

If man were lucky

He might touch,

Nest, nurture and grow for himself

A roundish piece of ripened unique, maybe a few—

Taste.

But will man ever ask himself if this is worth going to war for?

Does man ever ask himself what is worth going to war for?

We are all instinctual animalistic things.

What do I preserve?

What do I protect?

Who do I serve?

Questions go unasked. 

Am I more than this influx of adrenaline?

That which I have named,

That which I have observed.

We are all freed men, those standing under unwavering flags of “justice,”

Yet all we do is fight amongst ourselves.

And every season men die faster

Then leaves already falling

Come to rest at the feet of grieving widowers—

Many words on the lips of men and women.

Go.

Unspoken.

Like those in captivity having no voice,

For we must be their voice,

And yet we turn a blind eye—

It is no wonder,

For we stumble in search of our own

Clumsily interrupting the peaceful silence of dark.

We cannot see clearly the very truth,

That this is no dilemma, free against free—

It is illusion, a perpetual, worldwide, drama-plagued hypocrisy

That will rot and die with the unified enactment of a single vision:

Uniting all of man

With freedom,

Ending suspicion.

Or else each tree will fall.

There is almighty fruit of this generation

That can spell the end for us all.

Now and Long Before Our Time That is Now

It’s starts with a poem,
Sung before the stretches of lands
And all other plans for seascape and life, daylight and night
Crawl into focus under brushstrokes of right intention—
Slowly birthing innocence beneath the hurried scrawls of adulthood signature on
Every dotted line
That account for all things material,
Atonement for the debts of bets lost or won, chances taken or not
Other avenues of existence
Possibility, potential
Thoughts and ideas minds might otherwise dwell on and use
To formulate worry out of past folly and mortal foible
Losing sense of the present, gifting life to the nonexistent
Giving up rights to speak, scurry
Once we have learned to listen to the good sense of our souls
And behold the power inside the chambers of heavy hearts held hostage—
Golden gates open, everything else fades
Worries dissipate, embracing fate fully
Left with nothing to do but honor what is true.