Escaping Vanity

By  Michael L. Craver Days later, you're brushing them out of your bed. Who left these crumbs? Can you follow them back in your mind and figure out where they belong? My grandmother used to make the most delicious grilled cheese. That's what we called it. What she actually did, was bake honey wheat bread with sliced pieces from a cheese wheel in the oven.  Finishing your delight at the kitchen table, because you weren't allowed to take it into any other room, the empty plate goes in the sink. After a few times of having to go back to the table and clean it off without the plate to brush the crumbs onto, you learn to do it all in one trip.  Perhaps a conversation or a train of thought was interrupted, I have to rewind my photographic memory. Just what was I associating in the previous images? Those associations are my dust. They take me back to the path that I was previously on. I'm trying to clear up my loss of direction. Like those c

By  Michael L. Craver Navigated by chauffeur Hands held by an angel Stemming from natural causes A need for sympathetic pauses Cured with pressure Eliminated with patience Rising from beneath the skin Delivered by external forces We hide them all, Cover both with cosmetics These are your imperfections Those are their imperfections You look in the mirror and find them You close your eyes, never to forget them Beautification to hide them from sight Photos to document the tragedy All of your friends have them Only true friends know about them Hiding them with hope of contact Haunting reservations of being touched  Unsightly places to powder over Ugly reflexes cowering lower Taking to the sunshine for healing rays Sunglasses indoors, domestic shades Onlookers glancing, downward stares Generous force, descending stairs Lying, in hopes of beauty sleep Crying, fearful in battered unrest An ugly duckling in

By  Michael L. Craver Tragedy is a bottomless spring defined individually. Folks can drown in shallow waters. Furthermore, the provocative abyss we experience via the unexpected has every advantage to beat us. Unwanted exploration which may exhaust us past the point of no return.  Folks tread these waters with dark humor and vices. A range of wicked purification trying to propel themselves above the gloomy clouds. Eating to pass the time. Drinking until misguided in one’s own haze. Constant loathing as if a man’s mind was a city under siege. My flotation device masks me as a charlatan. Looking in quirky directions, so that you’ll wonder what I am distracted by. The point is to throw off the listener. Pausing to mix-up the cadence so that any audience second guesses if they’re paying attention. Perhaps conjuring something silly out my subconscious lottery. Whether directly affected by something ugly or aiding and abetting another in their ascension to refill their lungs

There's so many variables. Many ways things gain momentum. Though we may redirect then with racket. A double pun about the noise of verbal judo versus the metaphorical tennis of debate. She says, "That's not how you insult people. You're confused." Little did she know she was contributing to this article. There will be no royalty or credit. My way of neutralizing the situation. Taking the steam out of it. Just like she did.  The measure here is on emphasis and impact. Whether you give credence to the actions of others. As a wonderful kid once wrote, "The first step in any process is to give a fuck." That was me, almost five years ago. Folks giving orders, bullying, and other such undesirable verbiage. Some is part of delegation. While much is part of empowerment. Words which only the audience can validate.  The energy comes from the reaction. Like with any charlatan, the exercise is a con. Will you follow the wolf? For without your an

Folks often ask what my inspiration for writing is… This is my story. When I was younger my adventures came from physical wagers. Being older and wiser converts those chances to conversations. Exploring the why behind every step. Imagine considering collateral damage ahead of time. That’s how life is today. Overthinking and underacting. I equate consciously ignoring the ability to think ahead with the selfishness of obesity. We know better as time goes on. Born with the essence of aptitude. I’ve never been shy about trying and failing. From the physical to the spiritual. Bad humor, no problem. A closet full of decency. Presentation coupled with the misadventures bring out the charm. There’s a vault of unearthed embarrassment. As result of this journey my mind has a unique blend of ingredients. However, the process for selection is intricate. When I’m asking questions out loud, I’m placing your answer in a Chinese finger trap. I have described my mental pathways like th

First impressions can be deceptive... Perhaps you hear about someone lacking accountability. They wrecked a friend's car and lied to them about it. Problems with narcotics and promiscuity. Just a plethora of identity issues. As time passes you'd like to think something meaningful pours into the absence; Filling in those voids and strengthening who they are as a person. However, that's optimism. There's nothing wrong with keeping that hope alive. Just make sure that you acknowledge reality.  There's no amount of photographs, beautification, or coping routines to replace dignity and honor.  Everyone can see through the artificial layers. No matter how much skill is used to craft the mask, it remains a barrier between true identity and the outside world. Those things are as disingenuous as gossip. Though I do enjoy a good campfire story. Hearsay isn't admissible for a reason. Stick to the record. Do good for others. Let the Lord shine a light on thee.