Alex Carrick’s Blog

This is a more serious piece than I usually write. It’s another effort at prose/poetry based on an important theme, how many of us become trapped into doing what we may not want to do.

By the way, should anyone wonder if my ventures in this area are an attempt to ease the burden of writing short stories, let me say this. My poetic efforts, especially trying to smooth out the meter, have been every bit as time and brain-cell consuming as anything I’ve written.

We’re all bound in patterns,
some obvious to tell,
but others are hidden
as if in deep well.

Generations flit by
lickety-split as it were.
We dancers perform
in a lightning blur.

Who among us wonders
at the end of each day,
“Have I lived my life best
in my own unique way?”

More often than not,
behavior is embedded.
What we view as free choice
is the same as our parents did.

Funny how we become
our own moms and dads,
same quirks and mind tricks
yielding views good and bad.

Not so amusing when
what’s carried on is wrong.
Knowing when that happens
by sour note in our song.

Our hearts skip a beat,
tummies churn and we fret
over how to reverse
what seems a bad bet.

We all know the problems
that offend the senses,
alcoholism, rage, abuse
and lame self-defenses.

Racism is acquired as is
religious fanaticism.
The mind is a trickster
in ways to justify them.

But there’s another pattern
in many ways the reverse.
“Someone has to do it,”
is argument that’s a curse.

The matter is public service
with the forces and police
where situations may offer
no easy means of release.

Knowing when to strike
needs assessment that’s clinical.
Sideline criticism is unwelcome,
gung-ho form is often cynical.

“Be a man!” son or daughter,
for some offspring is implied.
Consequences overlooked
in what you may decide.

There’s the bonding and the glory,
thrills and danger to be found
wrapped up in choosing duty
that’s openly honor-bound.

One option of such service,
should you choose to buy in,
is commitment to a legacy
that may ask for dying.

Leading mothers to weep
and shaken fathers to doubt.
“Should I hang onto beliefs?
What was that all about?”

“And who is to blame?”
All of us when we say,
“Man, you’re a hero,”
and then walk away.

In car salesman manner,
giving no more thought,
we’ve done OUR duty,
distance has been bought.

We’re free to proceed
with our lives, watch TV,
have a drink, go out shopping,
or indulge other spree.

So if you’re a young’un
giving thought to career,
take full time to ponder
what life-course to steer.

Sort fact from myth
in all that you do.
Be selfish and ask
what’s right for you?

Identify the shams,
filter out all the crap,
shrug off the chains,
escape from the trap.

****

It’s a relatively minor transition from writing poetry to song lyrics, as in Why’d You Leave Me in the Lurch? Heartache has rarely been expressed more poignantly…

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For my first book, “Two Scoops” Is Just Right, please click here for the paperback version and here for the Kindle e-book version.

For the sequel, “Three Scoops” Is A Blast! (with the award-winning “Size of the Skip”) click here for paperback and here for Kindle.

For “Four Scoops” Is Over The Top (containing Hemingway short-listed “Caboose Follies”) click here for paperback and here for Kindle.

And finally, for my latest book, “Five Scoops” Is An Addiction!, please click here for the paperback and here for the Kindle digital version.

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