Tools for life by Ivan Donn Carswell
Has life ever dumped you in a heap?
Perhaps you’ve found self belief so strongly
reinforcing that doubt never enters it,
nor divorces you from your own reality.
While I admire conviction I see it an
affliction of the blessed, sign of the righteously
possessed and indeed, a decent place to serve
a sentence for dereliction of self-doubt.
I argue without it I am a cautious man and
easy to live with, I resound like a drum,
resonate to sympathetic percussion,
inflating nothing, merely imitating sound.
I feed on my doubt, I feast into the long night
of feverish dreams, fitfully sleep from crisis
to crisis, I am fêted, riven, inspected,
and reformed in every second of oblivion.
I waken rehabilitated, consummate with
confidence I can face the day’s rigors and
pursue challenges in the same vigorous
way I did yesterday.
And I die in the dawn of each new consequence,
ashamed I have no plan but the rising sequences
of random words, at times inadequate, at others
inspiring, as my tools for life.
I have not been myself of late. Well, I have been me, but just haven’t felt like me. Does that make any sense? When I look out of my eyes colors don’t seem to have the same luster. When I listen to my favorite music, I am not swaying to the music. Chocolate isn’t even tasting as good. Am I in the middle of a winter funk that will end with day light savings? I sure hope so, because chocolate does NOT deserve this treatment!