Failure and Obscurity

On 20261027 By Beleaguered ServantIn Personal EssaysLeave a comment

I have led a life of failure, but I console myself with the fact that I’m too obscure for anyone to have noticed.

Even the small wins in life count.

Failure is the subject of great fascination in our culture. In American sports, every “season” has only one winner, so every league is made up of failures, as defined in this way: “not a winner = failure”.

Sports is an interesting window on the world: we hate and villify failure, but we know that our teams will fail more often than not. Sports fandom is moments of elation surrounded by long spans of frustration. People are hopelessly irrational about their sports teams, which I appreciate.

When my son was in high school, he played in the marching band. I went to all their team’s football games: in four years, they won something like 3 games. So they were “failures”, but played out on a very obscure stage.

Oddly enough, the longer I watched the team, the more I admired them: they did all the preparation, all the work, and brought all the emotion to every game. They were were often overmatched, but they kept showing up.

And that kind of courage can never be characterized as failure.

Who Else’s Voice?

On 20261026 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

Were you to speak and spill your heart 
Onto the waters of regret 
The scorn might come in swarms and hordes 
And nightmares not imagined, yet 

We of the world can heartless be 
But know as sure as life, or breath, 
That only one can have your voice 
And stilling it 

Is worse

Than death

4 Lines Before Bed

On 20260707 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

To tell you the truth I often lie 
And I am not sure quite sure why 
For though I stretch with what I say 
It’s not impressive anyway

Grateful Interaction

On 20260618 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

In grateful interaction 
The scorn we flirt with ends, 
The fear we have of strangers
Turns into love of friends. 

And it can be surprising 
To suddenly be seen 
Outside the walls we hide behind 
While looking through 

A screen

the focus of attention

On 20260613 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

you were my ardent only, 
my every half-formed thought, 
and though you were my everything, 
you weren't quite what i sought 

and so i turned attention 
to what was new, and young, 
and gave to all the friends i found 
myself daily among 

but some may love for money, 
and others love for looks, 
but me, i loved for nothing 
and now i'm left with books 

i bought when i was younger, 
and you were still my stay; 
the focus of a wasted man 
who threw it all

away

“I Am The One Who Was…”

On 20260514 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems1 Comment

A morning gray, a two-day rain, 
A mind wrapped up in here and now, 
A half-day passed, a needed a break, 
Surprised to find the world now blue 
And full of early flowers in bloom 
His car took him (it seemed) down to 
A place of stones, and flowers, and rest 
And words and dates and silences -- 
  A hand upon my shoulder now 
  With no one there, with no one there.

"I Am The One Who Was" it said, 
Or they all said, in different words; 
A living presence grown and gone 
Now missing in the hearts of those 
Who once took shape and came alive 
In feeling skin and hearing voice 
In ways no others ever could 
For what is known and felt is kept 
  Inside the vault we can't unlock 
  For someone took the key and left, 
  For someone took the key

  and left

For Those Who’d Be Unlovable…

On 20260417 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

Reach out and feel what should be yours by right; 
The cadence of a song that none have heard, 
The measure of a breath that's full and light 
Along a shore: a lonely boat, a bird --  

And how you came to be where you are not: 
The fuller you become a passing ghost 
That all have seen and equal all, forgot, 
A missing sign atop a broken post -- 

But you remember hope -- it was your claim 
When everything you didn't know still glowed, 
And so much seemed in reach, both love and fame, 
While paying back much more than ever owed --  

  Our slipping grasp on all that missing peace, 
  Midst waves that ever lessen, never cease

Sketches – 97

On 2026041120260410 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

{ She’s not coming back, you know that. }

I don’t know that.

I’m sorry, sir. Did you say something?

Sorry, just muttering to myself. So these are the lockers?

Yes, just store your stuff in here and follow the directions as to the combination. Feel free to use the sauna or steamroom or whirlpool or any of the other facilities. Your technician will meet you in the relaxation room in 20 minutes.

Thank you.

…

{ Dude, what are you doing here? }

Right now I’m taking a shower. After that I put on a robe and wait out in the relaxation room.

{ What is this supposed to accomplish? }

Release some tension. I have been doing more working out.

{ Yes, I know, I am you. I mean you haven’t gone off for a massage without her in what — fourteen years? }

Well there is no her right now, is there? I —

Mister Servant? —

Right here.

…

It says here that you have the 50 minute service with CBD oil. Is that correct?

That sounds like what I signed up for, yes.

Is this your first time here?

Yes.

…

…

What is that water sound? Not the music, but the actual water.

We have a fountain system. Water sounds are very good for us.

Yes, I can feel that. How complicated is one of those to put in?

I took them about two weeks to put this one in. It goes through all the rooms; a simpler one would probably take a couple of days. The water bill is something you want to be ready for, though.

Hmmm.

…

What do you do for a living?

I am a mathematician. My wife is an artist.

Why didn’t she come today? We have couples’ packages.

She’s… working out of town.

…

Your neck and shoulders are very tense.

I am sure.

Do you work long hours?

I guess you could call them that.

…

What did you say your name was?

Tricia.

Thank you, Tricia, that was wonderful.

Your welcome. If you get chosen to do a review, five stars wouldn’t hurt.

Consider it done.

…

{ She didn’t ask you what your wife did for a living. What were you trying to do, ward off evil spirits? }

Maybe.

{ She is coming back, you know. }

You told me the opposite 90 minutes ago.

{ I’m more relaxed now. }

all my songs have colors

On 20260410 By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

when the outworld was my home 
i knew the smell of evenings 
spent by lakes still wild and 
full of unmapped feelings yet 
but soon to be known by one 
intrepid scurillous adventurous 
made of heart and granite and 
powered more by sugar than 
forethought or any other kind 
of blue-green wonder or sped-up 
thoughts of what a drive-in 
movie must look like when one 
is there to be with someone who 
wants only to be there with you 
who read these lines and know 
the red and gray awaits and 
eventually your pillow becomes 
your prison

No Talent for Certainty

Failure and Obscurity

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Who Else’s Voice?

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4 Lines Before Bed

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Grateful Interaction

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the focus of attention

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“I Am The One Who Was…”

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For Those Who’d Be Unlovable…

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Sketches – 97

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all my songs have colors

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