By Lee Broom.
© Lee Broom
Crap is a feeling.
Feelings are good.
It’s when we don’t have them
(And know that we should)
That we worry.
But you’re still here in the neighborhood.
You’re sweaty, impatient
Your ready to kill
You want to fight
So you take your pill
Wash it down
Lay there in those stinky bed-clothes
With bugs galore
But Goodness knows
You are almost well
And you know
Because you feel like crap
And that’s a feeling.
© Lee Broom
Art Is All There Is and Love Is How It Came To Be
Everything in the Universe is made from the crumbs of something else.
Surely, this is the first rule of Creativity and Creativity must certainly be the first consideration in defining art.
And for those of us who have lived this Creative Experience, whether it be to suddenly hear the first words in a poem on its way into our reality or becoming aware of a business idea rising to the surface or perhaps caressing a piece of unfettered marble and feeling the sculpture hidden among its veins or Miracle of Miracles, helping to form a new person, whether by fertilizing an egg or stumbling through the agonizing pile of paperwork and interviews to adopt a child, the feeling that accompanies such Creative Endeavors is called Love.
How much for that old pair of Shoes?
He fumbled around for some change.
They’re not for sale, my friend, said she.
Well why are they there for all to see?
I’m trying to rearrange.
He wiggled his barefoot toes
And wiped his runny nose.
Rearrange what, the fellow inquired,
Those raggedy shoes are about to expire,
They’d go just fine with my clothes.
I see what you mean, said she,
I’ll give you these shoes for free.
Could I have some socks and maybe a shirt,
And a pail of water to shed some dirt?
I’m really a sight to see,
You’re not so bad, but yes.
I can even give you a vest,
There’s a pond nearby, you can take a bath
Here’s a towel to dry and my name is Cath.
He wanted to look his best.
Freddy’s my name, he said
But you can call me Fred.
On return he looked great.. Let’s celebrate,
We can get married, I’ll be your mate.
And she rearranged his head.
Hi there Pink Cheeks.
Are your toenails blue?
Do you feel all new?
Like the morning dew?
What color was your nose
when you rose
to check the temp of this brand new morn?
Did your jungle come to life
In the middle of the Night?
Did the Midnight Sun
Shine a light on your buns
As you slid from the covers once more?
Golly, but you sure are pretty on this nice warm day
Let’s go out to play
Or would ya rather invite me in today?
From Leadership: A Love Story
By Lee Broom.