Poetry

Countdown, 30 (337.)

Do people want confidence
or humility?
Shall I humble myself
after I succeed in a bold maneuver?
I suppose it is possible
to perform well and abstain from bragging.
I think it’s called assertiveness.
So I know when I’ve done well,
I can tell people I’ve done well,
but I won’t go on about it.
Stay humble, is what they say.
Yes, I did this thing, but
it’s not something too special.
Why does this sound sad to me?
Bolster yourself, shore up your faulty spots,
and be proud of the work.
Always be proud of the work.
You don’t have to talk about it at every turn;
perhaps that is humility.
The quiet acceptance of work done well –
some kind of zen state of being –
no braggadocious bleating,
no display of the bleeding,
just sacrifice your time and your body
and get the thing done.
Some might call it meakness,
but perhaps that’s their weakness?
I can never decide.
That’s definitely my weakness.
Oh well – there’s always something
I can work on.

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Poetry

Countdown, 31 (336.)

Just a month, a month,
it used to feel so long.
For real, where does the time go?
Ten years in one, that’s what this feels like,
and it still flew right on by.
Silver wings bolstered by determined gusts –
that’s time’s vessel.
Never tired, always moving,
shall we take this day to go a-roving?
If time won’t stop, then neither will I.
But wait – I’m not a machine.
Nor am I a concept.
I am something of a construction of myself,
but beneath all that,
I’m a human.
I can’t push myself forever.
I’ll stop, I’ll rest, I’ll
elongate the minutes as best as I can.
A month, just a month,
I hope it feels long.

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