Perceive:
Focus on the goal,
Plan it out in your mind,
And maintain confidence.

Achieve:
Win the match,
Make the game-winning shot,
And/or walk away with something greater;
Winners don’t brag,
Winners are those who hope in their time to come
Even after potential success.

Believe:
Remember that each has a time
To shine, to radiate.
For show? Not so,
But to discover
What was missing all along.

Talking is an art,
The more talking done,
The lesser the fear of talking
At all,
Whether alone, in front of close acquaintances,
Or toward individuals unknown
And nonexistent before.
Admittingly, talking can be overdone
Like chard stew,
And talking on top of people…
Well, it cannot be helped,
But no one will receive a Pulitzer for it.
Unless if a “good idea” sounds from one
And ices the agreement cake.
But beware of those ideas you wish to verbally patent
In front of a gathering,
For if you only wish,
You may end up falling into the abyss
Of a silence that traps not your mouth,
But your will to speak, evaporating your words and
Ideas that might have bravely forwarded discussion.
Vanity, thy name is Groupthink:
What talk might arise next
When no talk arose at all?

Burning for truth
Running his mouth
Isaiah 41:10
Again, I try
Never to lose.

Not everyone can be an “every-one”
But I am one who wants to dip my hands
In many fields of life
So as to be an omni-aid “when duty calls.”
Of course, I don’t always know what I get myself into,
And may not consider that I could regret doing too much
Or find myself doing what I don’t want to do.
Generally, if I could, I would monetarily give
To every figure standing vertically still along main areas of traffic
Who always appear to be seeking some kind of recognition.
Not that I stare, but when my pockets lack coins or bills,
I can only offer a silent word behind the steering wheel
For the ones standing in search of hope car-by-car.
I love to write, so why not write to a soldier or someone who could use a note?
Because, alas, rules and regulations for companies intimidate my passion
To do good yet follow procedures.
With my loves for drawing, writing, cleaning, fixing, puzzles,
I know there’s a lot I can contribute,
Not speaking haughtily but in respectful confidence,
But it also can come down to who would be receptively interested,
How often I could commit,
And am I giving more than I’m being given?
If I can give until I cannot give anymore,
As wearing as this may sound in words,
What else would I need?

It’s never easy for me
To live in the moment
When I foolishly push forward
To say I endured and lived certain moments.
That’s not what history is about,
That’s not what life’s about.
Yes, the more focus poured into the present
Can make the present feel longer,
Like waiting-in-line longer,
But waiting surrounds every breath
Of life. There’s no escaping that,
Whether it’s waiting at the DMV or waiting, literally in this case,
One second.
After all, does not the body wait
To finally be at rest,
Each day drawing the body closer to its rest?
I have waited for exciting mail to be delivered before,
Whether arriving to others as gifts or to me miscellaneously.
Trust is the key, trusting that the many processes
Will accomplish the goal.
So, what about now?
Please hold while your life is being planned for the next day.

I’m for sure not a Barbara Walters
Or Bill O’Reilly,
But, sure enough, I have scholastic interviewing experience,
And I see it all around.
The questions I ask, the questions beckoned toward me
All seek answers,
Whether the questions are true and thoughtful
Or fillers that fog up the air.
At every meeting or get-together,
Whether casual, usual, professional, etc.
Words will be spoken,
And unless serious objections arise
Or more than two people are circulating verbal clauses,
You, my friend, could also be simultaneously under review.

What I used to crave
Has now lost its pleasure;
I have dipped into the abyss
Of emptiness in life’s glitzy amusements.

I have access and power
To what had seemed far from reach.
Pity me! I take freedom for granted
Unlike those uncountable souls past
Who chiseled history to now.

Believe me, I have jested with struggle
But not for day-to-day freedom
Of choice
To grow my character.

I meet my carnal needs
So want flushes me
With the drive for more.
As if I can’t be satisfied
For a breathing moment.

No more do I receive
Gifts the same.
I know I will live for my birthday
The luxury of how I live
Taken for granted through the years.

Instead of indulging in the anniversary of my birth
I consider the significance of life.
No more is it a brainless fun
Where I ignore what I cannot see.

No more do I receive
The day in childish anticipation.
Eagerness exists still, but when it wills
To water the blood inside
My soul, a life I leave starving.

Road trips neither blast my pulse
Nor weigh as a burden.
I am only more familiar
With land connectivity,
Surprising my sense of location lesser.

Instead of looking at my belongings
With a thankful tone
I mumble: “There’s dust on this!
That takes up space”
And mourn the items
That enslave me to them.

“Can’t you be happy?” most retort me.
Yes, but growth shall have its share
Of struggle
Thinking this phase as death itself.