The Human Condition

Our cozy little planet is presumed to have existed for over four and a half billion years. In the most recent three of those, it has been teeming with life. They come and go, and more than we will ever know of. The truth is there have been many species of fascinating creatures that crawled, squirmed, floated, swam, galloped, trotted, scurried, walked, ran and flown throughout our ever changing environment called Earth. Each had its mechanism for being. Each had the means with which to move about, perpetuate and thrive; the means with which to process some form of cognition, or maybe at the very least the means with which to perceive. Each had within it the mechanism responsible for ending the inadequate; the unnecessary; the obsolete. Some of these creatures persisted for millions of years before the mechanism within them led them down that narrowing path. To appear as if they never existed or at best to forever sequel into a display at the Smithsonian. To be something to learn from. We humans, the latest upgrade model of hominid, are no different. We have our own mechanism of survival, perpetuation, and ultimately, our own demise, “The Human Condition.”

The human condition, it mars the soul, and burdens the spirit. It is the initiating tool, cycle and grand culmination of all of societies mistakes and undoings. Whether you think of it as sin, failure, shortcomings, ethical or moral turpitude, or unhealthy normal reactions to abnormal stress. It divides us from harmony. It unites us in doleful conspiracy. It diminishes our value as a species. It threatens to resolve our issues with finality. To cure the infection we fester upon this planet by allowing us to render ourselves onto the path of extinction. We can learn to heal the wounds of the human condition. Treat the symptoms, and practice good preventative care, and we will prevail. Cure the human condition and we will evolve to something better; something truly amazing.

Thursday, September 13, 2012

My Ode To The Dad...

Walking to the Blues
Of this Beat Poet’s Shadow

By Patrick Ben Oviedo Jr.
© July 9th, 2007

I just had to walk 'cross town to find that old news stand 'cause I heard that it was cool
I just had to read about you; how you broke our hearts with all that shit you use do
I just had to read on how you often spoke of the truth and how everybody lies
The news was sad, the worlds been had, but just the same, it’s these opium dipped cloves and tequila that brings tears to my eyes

You were wasting precious moments, thumbing thru some girlie magazine
That’s when she moved right past me like a chilled breeze in the earliest of spring
Aloof in her gaze, it was clear she was totally hip to your melancholy tune
Walking away soft as a whisper; Ah, the scent of jasmine and hope mating in full bloom

I noticed you had seen her, and were thinking just like me; hoping; wishing; wanting
Would she take that sweet funk, hair and sweat; that silk essence oozing from her skin
Spread it all over this sorry broken hide, aching from the unforgiving sins;
Mmm, with shameful pride; I’d have to gloat; Mmm, I’d have to boast;
To have such perfect cream cheese wasted on such crispy burnt toast

I saw you staggering akimbo, tipping back a pocket rocket; sneered eyed and a skewed
Cigarette in one hand, peering out that rat fink eye, ranting out something almost new
I remember when I first caught your wisdom how I wished I was you
Just a memory now; a black and white portrait of someone we loved through and true

So I shook my head in dissent and then played it off rubbing my neck; "'Tis my crick"
My heart ached in empathy when you yelled mournfully “Christ! Buddy! You don’t know the meaning of heartache!”
You welled a tear up in your eye; pseudo sincerity; indignation and not another word
Just a gnarly sneer down that two pound beak some fool once said was your nose

You sat back on your throne; a rain soaked stack of news papers dated back by a day, a week, month or a year; fuck! Who cares?
You chose to communicate now only thru a sign that read “Today’s racing digest sold here,” so step right up and get it, and set your ease at fear

Another night in some dive with old wooden bar stools that creak like my neck
A few free beers or a shot or two eases a grin from a grungy mug and it’s easy to forgive
You gave me your wisdom like some street guru, thru a microphone soaked in spit bourbon and blues
Or maybe it was cheap scotch and a ditty ‘bout some damsel with auburn hair, milky white skin and large supple breasts in shiny high heeled patented leather shoes

The “clink” of a low ball glass on a tin can; a pat on the head; brings bad breath and some endearment in your heartfelt drunken sincerity, “You’re all right, kid.”
I breathe right back, “I love you too, Daddy”

I know I’m still a fool cause’ sometimes I wish I was you and I’ll just keep on walking
Walking to the blues of this beat poet’s shadow

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