Clay

I wondered what artist must have felt, from their studios, during war times…if they felt any significance, to continue to carve at clay, to continue to shape, to continue to paint…

Hearts, beating in my head, like drums, you face it, you always must face it, carving your way through it, with ink and pain, bleeding out on this page…

You walk through grief…

There is no other way…

Even when it feels insignificant

Meaningless

——

Maybe this is how we love

Even when it feels meaningless

Even when we feel nothing

Maybe

This is how we live

How

The work must feel

Does it know it is art?

Does it breathe ?

Does it carry us with it?

Is it just clay

Ink

Paint

In a room –

Empty of us –

Empty ?

Or is it aware

Of the darkness in the earth

The grief

The pain

Our hearts slain

Bleeding out

Our voices

Silently screaming

This is the way

This is the way

Is a studio

Hearts beating

Against the night

Against the night

This is the way

-E

On our way

1

You think the Apex of all pain is losing a parent…

You tell yourself, ok, this is it…nothing could hurt more than this – (losing a parent or a divorce etc)

And then you lose a brother…

And there’s such fresh pain

Pain you can’t even understand

It’s just there…

In such a way

That it feels so unfair

it levels the field

You feel

Cheated from something

You don’t even understand

——

2

There’s no order

To this madness

You think

Ok, there’s parents you’ll lose

You prepare for that

But losing a sibling

Is so different

Whether you’re close or not

You really understand the brevity of everything

It wakes you up

From the grind

From the hustle

And you look around you

And you see

How quickly and randomly

All of this can go away

——

3

This funeral home

Where our father was

Where all of us end up

Through our history

Whatever we may do

We end up here

How strange that

We won’t be living

This ache

This invisible target

We really don’t know

—-

4

How complex

How layered

We take things so personally

I remember losing our father and I thought it was all so personal

And it was

In its way

But there is always hurt

Beyond what you see

There is always layers

There are years

Entire decades

Of complexities and issues

That we know nothing about

It’s all so blurred

The lines

We think it starts and ends with us

A moment in time

But it’s layered

Traits, ethics, work, talents, looks, pain, old pain, new pain, life …

I lit a cigarette and I smoked it

I probably shouldn’t have

But I wanted cheesecake

And didn’t have it

And I felt that I was overthinking

——

-E

Regardingsamuel.com

High

We say we want and deserve
High value partners
Premier standards…
But do we even deserve that?
What assets do we bring to the table? Really?
Look at who we surround ourselves with?

It’s easy to be with partners with no vision and no goals and no standards…

You know what to expect
And there’s no standards
You’ll never let them down
And you look pretty great in their environment

But a high value partner
Has standards
Suddenly
Having your shit together
Showing up on time
Doing the bare minimum ?

Is it not called the bare minimum for a reason ?
Really…
You have your own place ?
You listen and support?
You show up on time?
You can cook?
You can dress yourself?
You have a job?
Your car doesn’t impress them?
X Y Z etc

You’re supposed to have those things together
It’s just being an adult …

What else do we bring to the table
Why should they be with us?
What do they really gain

The bare minimum requires zero talent

How am I getting better every day
How am I growing
What am I doing
Really
What are my assets

Becaus whatever I’m doing
Is direction
That’s the path I’m walking
Not what I’m thinking while I’m walking it
Not what I’m saying
But what I’m doing

It’s terrifying

High value requires greatness from us
It pushes you
It does not let you sit still
It does not allow you to just be good enough
It requires the best from you
Every day
Consistency
Not convenience
Not your bad habits
Not your moods
Not your selfishness

It’s easy to let high value down
It’s easy to mess up
And realize you may not be
Everything you think you are

Do we really want what we think we want?
Really?
Or do we want to stay comfortable
In a environment that asks nothing from us
But to just show up – maybe – IF we feel like it…

Go ahead
You can shoot your shot
And get the date

But are you ready to be consistent
Do you really want what you think you want …

-E
Regardingsamuel.com

Work

We romanticized the work
—-
Relationships and love
It’s such a shame
The game
Saying
fooled again
But who’s to blame
When the weapon’s
Hid in both our hands
All is fair in love and war…
——
Love
Passion
And desire
Broken heart over fire
——
Wasted on the young
Broken hearts and casual casualties
——
Someone new this way comes
Out of touch
Out of time
Better hold yours and mine
——
The work is work
And it hurts
To hurt
to die
Time after time
Ache in the decades
Try to understand
Try to understand
We don’t know what we become
Where we will be
You
Me
It’s gonna be
Work
It’s gonna be work
It’s gonna be a long time
To get what you really want
What you really need
—-
There’s no quick wit
Remedy
Yoga trick
Fast tongue and cheek fantasy
——
It’s a short hour from here to eternity
But it’s a long walk
Covering eachother from the weather
If you get what I really mean

-Regardingsamuel.com

Night is down

Full dark
No stars
The mind is lost
When
Love is blind
The night is down
She took me to Venus
With tea in her room
I’ve tried to get to you
You tried to figure me out
She said she’s got to get out
a new scene
A new town
Everything changes
When everyone stays the same
——
Full dark
No stars
The night is down
New streets
New names
But you’re still you
Is it really better now
——
I’ve got to get to you
I’ve got to get to you
The mind is lost
When love is blind
Is it really better now
Is it really better now

-E
Regardingsamuel.com

These mountains (oh children)

I was young

So much younger

Younger back then

A four minute sermon

In that church in the valley

Struggling to keep the words from running away

Like my soul

So often will

——

See that young man

In my mind

I am still him

Selling things on the highway,

as a child,

See

The couple, they are fighting…

And she hands me a notepad

Asking for me to write words

That I can not find …

Love is a garden, and you can’t harvest what you won’t grow…

—-

See the man

Trying to drown

All the pain in his eyes

My son

My daughter

My children

——

We were young

In that country

the storm’s rolling over

Putting words in these hands

The notebooks

And a broke piano

To keep them hemmed

—-

Now the world keeps on changing

Emotions,they are re-arranging

And the high doesn’t last

She’s intrigued

And curious

She’s never met an artist

With a southern sound

the ability

To outlast her California high

But I’m afraid

That I can’t stay

For my mountains they call me back

It’s in the highways

And the valleys

It’s a grit from my families old stills

And I’m afraid

She doesn’t understand

Some things

You can’t grow out here…

my sons

My sons

Don’t give yourself away

Keep your grit

Keep your faith

Keep your eyes

On these mountains

Even while you are away

Let me see

Let me stand

Let me find

My heart in my homeland

The old moonshine country

Where we live what we feel

Where we outlast

What would kill

Oh my son

My daughter

My foolish youth

I wish I could shield you

From

How a heart

Caves in like the coal mines

Standing in your empty house

Where your dreams

Your ideals

Your heart beat

And your breath

Held its last

And you swore you would not become a tombstone

As you pack all the boxes

With fractured breath

It’s just memories

Of a love that slowly died

Go to stand

In the silence

Of your cemetery

And

All that feels empty

An ideal

This house once was a home

Like the distilleries from the past ….

Oh my son

Keep your eyes

Fixed

Where a heart

Cannot drown

God bless the hands that built

All of those mines

Those stills

the homes

And these mountains

From the sand

Keep your grit

Keep your faith

Keep your eyes

Set

On all

That still stands

Now

Go

Go

When life tears you down

rebuild

See that you stand

Like these mountains

With skies in your eyes

Go

Go

And

Rebuild

With a future and a life

And carry this grit with you

It will burn warm in the night

-E

Regardingsamuel.com

Live what you believe

It’s national poetry month,
I’m thankful,
For so much,
I think the older I get,
The more I understand the need for quiet peace
For solitude
I’m thankful for writing
For art
I’m thankful for friends
I’m thankful for a career
That enables me to pursue my art
And supplies associates like me, with the tools we need to level up.
Not only with benifits but with off time, Vacation time,
Vaccines, healthcare, raises, retirement, training and goal setting,
I got vaccinated today,
I work in a major city,
I’ve seen everyone so burned out
I just hope
I hope
I hope you level up
I hope you reach your goals
I hope you dream in art
I hope you make the art you dream of
I hope you continue
I hope you continue
Calmly
Quietly
Succeeding
And winning
But mostly
Living
Living and loving
I hope
You win
I hope we all do
And why shouldn’t we?
What else is there?
-E
Regardingsamuel.com

Solitude

I pulled the root out
I burned the ends of the rope
I carry the words
That hurt
The memory
Like compost
Made of cigarette ash
Inside of me
——-
I try to think long term
To make a plan
To have a vision
——-
Back and forth
I scrolled
With my hesitation
Like a newsfeed
Time,
Years slipped like sand
Into eternity
I watch the storms
I settle here
Like the earth
I sleep
Praying
Praying
To just be
Something
Better
Something other
than this
This fractured –
I hate this – ache
This selfish – pain
This – hurt
I walked in here
I will walk out
I will not be here
I will not die here
—-
I will sit with myself
What is it I am trying to say
What is it I am feeling
What is it
I want to leave behind
——
What is it
Who am I
Never again
Never again
Never again
——
The single note
Rings
From the piano in the attic
It echoes
One note
Solitary
Solitary
Solitude
-E

Oceans

Bring all of the broken pieces to light, are we doing alright?
Empty inside….
Like all of these open roads…
Detached,
Religions said to deny what’s inside,
Culture said conform and get in line…
We can’t feel what’s left to –
We all keep –
caving….
Empty vessels ….
Out on these open roads
——
There has to be some kind of beauty
Some kind of lines worth writing
Were we not shaped by light?
Held by truth?
Grown by love ?
By love
My love
My love
Love…
Around these open roads
This house is burning
all of these broken pieces …
We used to be fighters but now
We feel so empty
Detached from any identity
Any kind of sense of self
Worth saving…
Were we not shaped by light
Held by truth
Grown by love
By love
My love
My love
Love…
——
All is fair in love and war
——
Hold to me through your night
Until you’re doing alright
It’s just open roads
It’s just memory
And sensory
It’s just time
In that jar of sand
You are light
You are eternity
And everything is passing
But you are beginning
You matter
You are all the borders to the ocean
You are the depths we haven’t seen yet
The quilting to the universe
You are identity
Autonomy
Beauty
And hope ….
You are beginning….
Just beginning…

-E
Regardingsamuel.com