diminishing returns

i am a man of diminishing returns
i have forgotten more than i ever learned
neglected people i never knew
and squandered memories i never made

i sing songs out of tune
using words that refuse to fit
and write poems that would be draped in purple
should they hang in my window

i no longer know fear
i have forgotten how

i am a man of diminishing returns
if i knew you and was derelict
forgive me
my eyes knew you

and they said hello

my left eye tolbert

the walk


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5 people walking

five people walked
on a beach, uncrowded
each alone, hearing waves and demons
wishing for more in life
getting less
cain watched the ocean to his left
as he lifted his arms
and freedom invited him in
he never knew freedom could be so cold
he should have known

four people walked
on a beach, uncrowded
each alone, hearing waves and demons
wishing for more in life
getting less
peter stood before the begging waves
his tears defined the moment
his feet washed by soft sea foam
as he remembered jesus
had washed his feet
jesus was prepared to die
peter walked into the water
weighted down by his burdens
freedom invited him in
he never knew freedom could be so cold
he should have known

three people walked
on a beach, uncrowded
each alone, hearing waves and demons
wishing for more in life
getting less
david knelt down facing his vast uncertainty
in his mind he would be king
yet his mind was turbulent
like waves, tossing this way
and that
as his future passed overhead
and the waves were more angry
than an empty but jealous monarch
until david ran, insane…screaming
into the hungry sea
and freedom invited him in
he never knew freedom could be so cold
he should have known

two people walked
on a beach, uncrowded
each alone, hearing waves and demons
wishing for more in life
getting less
samuel watched overhead gulls
while wondering if they could fly
seagulls caught the wind
and secrets
samuel heard clapping waves
afraid to look
footprints leading to the water were many
and freedom invited him in
he never knew freedom could be so cold
he should have known

one person walked
on a beach, uncrowded
alone, hearing demons and waves
wishing for more in life
getting less
he watched the others
and knew each was him
conflicted and drowning
as the thick fog of each pill
made him more aware
waves were melodious
inviting him in to partake of the music
as the chorus died down
and no one
on the uncrowded beach
the deceptive voice of freedom invited him in
he never knew freedom could be so cold
he should have known



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I have found some ways to ease the pain in my own life.  I hope these pointers
are helpful if you or someone you know is suffering from bipolar.

…Some helpful tools (Part 7 of 7)

It is not always the case but on occasion I can ‘feel’ a manic or depressed episode approaching and steps are taken to divert the problem.  Family is, of course, the first course of action and yet I must admit that I don’t open up too much except to my wife (she knows anyway).

Another avenue of relaxation for me when I feel an episode of mania or depression approaching is to pick up my guitar and play a song that takes me away from my mental moment.  A third way is to appreciate the unconditional love poured out by my Boston Terriers.  As any pet owner knows, they can transport us from our world to theirs in an immediate expression of pure love.

Another way is to read a good book or listen to music (and I do those as well) but it is the quiet measure of life and the ultimate calming effect, lifting me from the depths of depression or pulling me back to the ground and away from racing moments of mania that must happen, without fail.

Sometimes it doesn’t take very much to make me feel overwhelmed and either retreat to my own private corner where words dance in my head and none attempt to pierce my soul, or I attack the conditions that attempt to slay any sense of serenity left in my life. In the latter case I am like a one-armed soldier attempting to battle two enemies yet having no ability to protect my heart with the Aspis Shield…as, according to Homer, was employed by the heroes of the Trojan War.

Oftentimes the question arises, ‘what causes bipolar’? Over the years I have looked at various aspects of my own life as well as the lives of many whom I have encountered in group therapy. Incidentally, over the years I have seen several counselors, therapists, and doctors and as of this moment I honestly can’t say any have been helpful to any major extent, apart from providing medication. (Don’t get me wrong, all have been helpful in some way…) I have been encouraged to talk to pillows (expressing anger towards those who violated me), pinched my lip, nose, right ear and left ear (in that order) and made a teddy bear out of felt cuttings (which of all those I just mentioned was the most helpful and now that little fella is magnetized to my refrigerator.)

Prevalent trains of thought are that bipolar is a result of stress, childhood experiences and a chemical imbalance in the brain. I won’t pretend to have a definitive answer for that but I can once again offer my own experience as my guide. That which is clinical is real and that which is real becomes clinical if it spins out of control which, simply put, says bipolar is a chemical imbalance that can rest dormant for periods of time and yet a single stressful incident can become the catalyst for potential disaster.

No matter what the cause, this condition causes mood swings from extremely high to extremely low; sometimes rapidly and other times more slowly but for extended periods. Moods can be pleasant when moderate and oftentimes result in bursts of creativity but by the same token, uncontrolled spending, reckless driving, sexual promiscuity, substance abuse and so many other afflictions can emerge as a result of mania.


does death ride a black horse?
is yesterday all that matters?
can emptiness be filled with nothing?
do memories feel pain when they die?

questions are easy
answers are hard
when the mind and the heart
are destitute
and the seed of hope
died in the drought

I said it before and I will say it again because it is important: depression is when the lows are so overwhelming that guilt, negative introspection, self-abuse, etc. can result and sometimes with devastating consequences.  Depression is like a blanket that covers completely and suffocates entirely and can be extremely dangerous, leading to self-infliction or even suicide.

It is important to note that depression, when bipolar is involved, is far different from depression as in ‘I am depressed, I had a bad day at work.’

In my case, this cycling between mania and depression consumes me and oftentimes I spend sleepless night after night in an elevated manic state only to begin a rapid descent into the pits of depression, aka bipolar hell. The cycling and erratic mood swings are dangerous because when one is in an elevated mood heading for depression it only means that suicide could happen quicker.

All of these emotions are extreme. Everyone experiences times when they are happy or times when they are depressed, but bipolar is a chemical imbalance in the brain and renders the person helpless to control emotions that others could deal with. That is why medications are essential and can literally make a difference between life and death. (Trust me, I know. Thank God for lithium.) The reason I can say that bipolar is a chemical imbalance in the brain is simple: take my lithium away and I can quickly revert into the illogical person who sells a home on a whim, drives with reckless abandon, and listens to the voices that convincingly say I am worthless and should drive off a cliff. I am not proud to say I have done these and other despicable things, but the fact is I have.

The personal definitions I have given for mania and depression are not clinical; they are expressions of how I perceive my private demons, my ‘stairway to heaven’ and my ‘descent into hell’.

I plead for strength to be victorious in the battle that rages within me, the battle that sends a mind into the delirium of mania and so quickly into the depths of depression. I have come to understand the battle by understanding my heart and mind when I stand on that middle ground of sanity. I can only understand the battle if I know the enemy and as was once written in the cartoon Pogo: “We have met the enemy, and he is us.”

This is my story.  I pray that yours differs from this but if there are similarities, please for your sake and the sake of your friends and family…get help!  For years I ignored the signs and hid behind a mask that felt like sanity on the outside but was so unbelievably out of control on the inside that the facade almost killed me on several occasions. Don’t let that happen to you…trust me, you are worth the effort.  Be kind to you, you are tailor made.

the corner

there was only shattered silence
where broken glass should have been
words already hurt like a splinter
left unattended too long

and now insults were served in a glass bowl
surrounded by daisies, carnations, and roses
red because he loved her, white because she died

he rocked in the corner
holding her picture and dying one breath at a time
life didn’t matter now that she was gone
and he counted the metric flow
of his suffocation

he sat quietly in his aloneness
and wore his loneliness like a soft jean jacket
life hurt and his white room felt safe
as he studied the bowl of insults,
nourishment for his soul

the newly shattered glass
was surrounded by daisies, carnations, and roses
red because he loved her, white because she died
he rocked in the corner and there, afraid
he wept

diane in red png

This is Diane, my late sister.  A couple of things you need to know about Diane.

She was Bipolar I
She took her own life
For those who knew and loved her, their lives will never be the same.
I use this information as a deterrent against suicide when it is needed in my life.
It is said that “Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.”

This concludes the seven part ‘series’ about bipolar and the effects it has on my life.  There is so much more I could write about personal times of crisis but for now I will set this aside and appreciate my family, my dogs, my guitar and my life…







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What are the symptoms of bipolar disorder?  (Part 6 of 7)

Sometimes I feel as if I have offended everyone I know and lots of people I don’t know. I replay moments from yesterday or years, even decades, and rehash conversations that perhaps should have gone differently.  I see the impact of grandiose bipolar actions and misplaced arrogance that masqueraded as confidence. God has either blessed or cursed me with a sarcastic, quick-witted burning mind that sees things differently.  Fortunately, for the most part, I have learned to curb my remarks, filter my thoughts and censor my stream of consciousness.  Unfortunately, that is not always the case.

Those afflicted with bipolar disorder experience unusually intense emotional states that occur in distinct periods called “mood episodes.” An overly joyful or overexcited state is called a manic episode, and an extremely sad or hopeless state is called a depressive episode. Sometimes, a mood episode includes symptoms of both mania and depression. This is called a mixed state and unfortunately it is where I spend most of my time.

Let me again say I am speaking from my own experience and understanding of bipolar disorder and yet as I read the clinical aspects as stated by the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH), I see me, pure and simple…me. I see me, a statistic in Washington, California and Arizona where Psych Wards offer little more than colorful crayons broken more often than yesterday’s promises. I see faces of empty people, medicated and wandering, some with wrists wrapped some with a bleeding scalp where patches of hair once grew…all without shoe laces or belts. Faces still haunt me sometimes in the night, never names; I knew none, only faces and hands, wrists, bruises from self-inflicted wounds driven by self-hatred. This is where the clinical aspects of bipolar crash head-on with the reality of an unsettled mind, this is where one inflicted with bipolar faces the battle of life verses death; there under the watchful eye of doctors and nurses who come and go as quickly as the fleeing thoughts they have bled from the minds of those who walk into and out of interviewing rooms.

I wandered through the open spaces of emptiness, looking at nurses sitting idly at their stations, watching them watch me. I am the study written by NIMH, accurate and concise, a statistic, a number hidden deeply within the boundaries of bipolar disorder. Inside, I weep, wondering where my mind went in its journey to bringing me to this place.

open only on monday

words wrap around my tongue
like a cellophane wrapper, wrinkled and crushed
while copper pennies group together
after being spent too many times in too many places

i never cared for the smell of root beer or licorice
in the corner candy store where i filled my pockets
with round striped peppermint slash chocolate pieces
that nobody else wanted anyway

that’s how the excuses started
and validation was easy when dealing with penny candy
on a saturday when nobody was in school anyhow
and the grocer overcharged for bread

monday was coming, it always did
and emptied pockets were comforting and warm
when repentance was behind me for another day
of solitude and peace and promises that i would never do it again
i did

and now i can only hear you on mondays
and even then its only in my head
where your words wrap around my hungry tongue
like a cellophane wrapper wrinkled and crushed

i hear your smile calling to me
while copper pennies group together
after being spent too many times in too many places
just like the memories i used to open
only on monday

The following list of Signs and Symptoms of bipolar disorder is from the
Mayo Clinic:

Manic phase of bipolar disorder

Signs and symptoms of the manic or hypomanic phase of bipolar disorder can include:

  • Euphoria
  • Inflated self-esteem
  • Poor judgment
  • Rapid speech
  • Racing thoughts
  • Aggressive behavior
  • Agitation or irritation
  • Increased physical activity
  • Risky behavior
  • Spending sprees or unwise financial choices
  • Increased drive to perform or achieve goals
  • Increased sex drive
  • Decreased need for sleep
  • Easily distracted
  • Careless or dangerous use of drugs or alcohol
  • Frequent absences from work or school
  • Delusions or a break from reality (psychosis)
  • Poor performance at work or school

Depressive phase of bipolar disorder

Signs and symptoms of the depressive phase of bipolar disorder can include:

  • Sadness
  • Hopelessness
  • Suicidal thoughts or behavior
  • Anxiety
  • Guilt
  • Sleep problems
  • Low appetite or increased appetite
  • Fatigue
  • Loss of interest in activities once considered enjoyable
  • Problems concentrating
  • Irritability
  • Chronic pain without a known cause
  • Frequent absences from work or school
  • Poor performance at work or school

I will add these comments to the list.  First, it is not all-inclusive and probably could never be all-inclusive. Second, not everyone who is bipolar has every condition listed.  As a personal test, I read the two lists to my wife and she told me whether or not the condition applies to me.  She hit the points right on and the outcome was just as expected; my world is made up of quite a large number of symptoms from the Manic phase of bipolar disorder while concurrently I also live in a world that is derived from the Depressive phase .  My problem, as my wife pointed out, is that the two worlds have merged and are stationary; leaving me trapped inside.

I noticed that there were conditions (such as Euphoria), that I have experienced some time in the past but not recently while almost all of the other conditions have taken up residence within me and now I could have my mail delivered there.. It occurred to me that this is the reason the condition worsens as we age. The luggage of my life is overstuffed and there is room for no more.



you had a suitcase
packed and ready to go
brown, like the hallway
like the minds of those who tried to hold you back

there was so much of life to live
so much packed in your brown suitcase
strewn like tight jeans and wrinkled shirts
cracked belts and fractured memories

i wished for a promise to give you
a rose and a poem wrapped in pink ribbons
on parched paper
written by hand and erased twice

hungry for words and short sentences
i crawled into your life
as easily as i envisioned crawling into your suitcase
it was more narrow than the hallway
and the soiled, dingy walls reminded me of my life

as the lid closed
and the music stopped

3 suitcases png


The amazing thing is that in writing this I feel that I am opening up old wounds and yet in my heart of hearts I know I am holding back.  I hope you will join me for the seventh installment of this look into the mind of a bipolar man.  Thanks so much for reading my words thus far.

The seventh part is appropriately entitled “Comfort”

Thanks so much for reading my words thus far.



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purple poetry

What is bipolar disorder?  (Part 5 of 7)

As I enter into this fifth installment concerning bipolar I am suddenly feeling vulnerable and quite insecure about his whole process.  I know it is not necessarily well written but the point is it is written and that is a tremendous step. It is as if I have just penned a poem entitled ‘purple poetry’ and then purposely spilled purple ink onto the page. At this juncture, I will confess that some of the most frightening visitations I have with bipolar are the periods of psychosis that are marked by delusions and hallucinations.  These can be amazingly real and can manifest themselves in the form of a snake or a scorpion or can be a person or a dog.  It’s uncanny and most times I am able to differentiate between a real person and one born in my mind. These come on usually as a result of sleeplessness.  When experiencing a manic episode I can go days with zero sleep and weeks with virtually no sleep (an hour a night for four weeks).  I do not recommend this for anyone because depression and suicidal anxieties can walk arm in arm with sleeplessness and sometimes the line of demarcation is not so comfortable.

I stop on occasion and try to check where I am going and where I have been with this somewhat self-inflicting word wrap.  I don’t want it to come across as a complaint nor do I want it to be read as an attention grabber.  I hope this is informative and your visit into my mind, which happens to be bipolar, is just that, informative for any who question what it is like at the end of the hall when the lights are turned off.

I suppose if I am able to communicate one thing it is that bipolar is not an addiction and when I think about all it entails I think of  Senator Barry Goldwater’s campaign slogan in 1964 when he made a bid for the office of President of the United States.  His slogan was “A Choice, Not an Echo”  Bipolar, to me, is quite the opposite, “An Echo, Not A Choice.” By that I mean it is genetic and has everything to do with wiring and nothing to do with choices. The echo chambers of my mind are filled with eerie expressions on bad days and melodic sounds of orchestrated music on good days.

an honorable death

morning escaped like an echo
winding through whispering pine trees
crawling with bent fingers over frozen ponds
searching for the minute of birth

fogged windowpanes slowed the reflection
as ghost-like fog and mist stopped
dead against the cold moisture-laden glass
where morning died an honorable death

mourning died in the burrowed soil
while storm clouds threatened to weep
onto stones planted around her
as she lay in a place safe from yesterday

haunting music still plays in my head
my fingers on guitar strings too late
my shallow words too soft for her ears
my heart too broken to know how to heal

morning escaped like an echo
winding through whispering pine trees
mourning died in the burrowed soil
while storm clouds threatened to weep

Simply put, bipolar disorder, also known as manic-depressive illness, is a brain disorder that causes unusual shifts in mood, energy, activity levels, and the ability to carry out day-to-day tasks. Symptoms of bipolar disorder are severe. They are different from the normal ups and downs that everyone goes through from time to time. Bipolar disorder symptoms can result in damaged relationships, poor job or school performance, and even suicide. But bipolar disorder can be treated, and people with this illness can lead full and productive lives. I hate taking medications that make me feel like I left my head at the bowling alley after it was used to clear the gutter.  Chances are I didn’t because I have not been in a bowling alley for probably thirty years…or maybe a week ago Wednesday, I don’t remember which.

The point is, if you are sick, take your meds!

Bipolar disorder is not easy to spot when it starts. The symptoms may seem like separate problems, not recognized as parts of a larger problem. Some people suffer for years before they are properly diagnosed and treated. I did and it almost killed me on several occasions. It’s important to know that like diabetes or heart disease, bipolar disorder is a long-term illness that must be carefully managed throughout a person’s life.

morning is empty

when gray doves no longer coo
and what was once a novel
has been reduced to a few short words

there is nothing left
but a shortened paragraph
in search of punctuation
to slow the silence of emptiness

do you remember your youth
when life was spread out like a cinema
on some wide screen
and acted upon in full color?

a new fog has rolled in
and swallowed the light of day
there are still prostitutes on every corner
and the smell of morning’s laundromats
is unchanged

morning will soon pass
and the sun will move no more quickly overhead
than it did when i was five
morning will pass
surely morning will pass

Next:   What are the symptoms of bipolar disorder?  (Part 6 of 7)



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loaded camel.jpg

Artwork:  tolbert

…On the road again…  (Part 4 of 7)

Soon after some of these unpleasant experiences I decided to come home to California to join my wife, who by now had left Ohio and returned to California, setting up an apartment there.

After a short time in California we moved again to Arizona, bought yet another home, and have lived here for ten years. Notice in the preceding paragraphs I always said ‘I bought, I moved, I sold…’ That is what bipolar does to the mind; it becomes extremely selfish and uncaring for others. The irony is that the opposite is also true and selfish transforms into compassionate and understanding while uncaring becomes attentive and caring, My wife always believed that someday, somehow somewhere, I would come around and for that I am eternally grateful.

Our two married, grown daughters are now  residents of Arizona.  They and our four grandkids, along with our two Boston Terriers, are more therapeutic than any of them will ever know.

Sound like a lot to deal with? That’s why I call it a whirlwind. Real Estate fees alone could make my head spin but in my mania I was so far gone that I was literally lost and feeling hopeless. Toss in three suicide attempts and a few incarcerations in psych wards in three states and the picture takes on more clarity than I would wish on anyone. This is the ‘non-clinical’ part of bipolar, the part that is lived day in and day out in the confused mind of one afflicted with this ugly disease.

At this time I won’t get into the ‘hospital’ stays and what Phych Wards are like but those of you who have been there know about magazines dated years earlier, coloring books with pages that were colored over and over multiple times and usually by at least one person who thinks every page needs a black crayon waved over it in an erratic pattern of crisscrossing lines. Some angry soul ensured that every crayon was broken into several fragments and Crayola was obviously not included in the state budget of California, Washington or Arizona.  The good news was…oh, there was no good news.

life’s lessons

while traveling alone down life’s desolate road
i met several strangers who lightened my load

there was the wasted singer without a tune
who was hopelessly lost and facing his doom

as he strummed his guitar it strained with his song
about the rights of workers and wars that are wrong

the poet with flowers never left his room
like an infant still curled in the warmth of the womb

his words were like colors, pastels in the day
‘til the colors all faded into pale shades of gray

the merchant with money peddled his pride
then sold his own soul for the price of a bride

his wares were imported and sold in the night
to kids on street corners in bags of pure white

there was the sailor left stranded while holding his beer
in the midst of wine masters serving bottles of fear

all the soldiers had died but i met with their names
on white tombstones proclaiming their loss as our gain

heroes became presidents strung out on a wall
they had forgotten young warriors who died at their call

i met with the lawyers who kneeled in the court
holding lives in the balance like a sickening sport

that gavel still pounds somewhere in my mind
while i try hard to forget that justice is blind

i met with a prophet armed only with words
cloaked with a sign saying ‘do not disturb’

and i listened intently as he poured out the blame
then blessed the sayings in his god’s holy name

every preacher was certain only his was the way
to life everlasting come the last judgment day

gravediggers dug deeply when burying their souls
then left it for pirates still searching for gold

i met a young maiden who had always been pure
yet she took me to places i had not been before

she cried as i left her alone on her bed
curled up in a promise and a dream for her head

i went to the farmers to learn how to grow
but found we can reap only that which we sow

i watched a skilled tradesman so good in his craft
a carpenter who built where the jester had laughed

in my sojourn i saw beauty when i returned home
in the face of a child who had no need to roam

for children are pure and free from this strife
until one day they travel this journey called life

Next up is a concise statement about the clinical aspects of bipolar disorder taken from the website of NIMH (National Institute of Mental Health)

What is bipolar disorder?  (Part 5 of 7)

Lessons from a Sheep Dog


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Some of the craziness involved with the illness  (Part 3 of 7)

Okay, there are no Sheep Dogs, but hopefully there are some lessons.

In a nutshell, I left a very good job in California with no prospects for new employment, sold our home, moved out of state, and bought a home in Ohio. While there I started and left several other jobs (probably six or more in a years’ time) sold another house, moved from Ohio and returned to my original company in California where I bought another house. I left the company a second time, sold our home, moved out of state, to Arizona this time, where I bought yet another home, sold the home (six months later) decided to ‘go it alone’ in a state I had never lived in so I drove my (very confused and prayerfully patient) wife to be with her family two thousand miles from where I would be living. I moved to Bellingham Washington (about as close to being out of the United States as I could possibly be) while she lived in Maumee Ohio, and eventually, six months later, we hooked up again in California, in an apartment around the corner from the house we once owned but could no longer afford to buy. Believe me; by now I was all too well acquainted with what bipolar was all about. Fortunately a doctor in Seattle Washington started me on Lithium and, although Lithium is not for everyone, I must say it saved my life.

In addition to Lithium, I underwent Electroconvulsive therapy (ECT) in Washington and it was explained to me that ECT is often life-saving in severe depression and mania, especially if someone is suicidal. I was moving from manic episodes to depression so quickly the doctor admitted me to ‘the room’ immediately. In case you are not familiar with ‘the room’, it was about ten feet square, padded, no windows and no doorknob on the inside. There was only one chair so when I was told to have a seat it was easy to select a place.  I stood. All I could think about was I had a ninety-minute drive home and I needed to bring my garbage cans in.

While I was a guest in ‘the room’ one question I remember is “do you hear voices?”  My response was “Just a second, let me ask…”  The doctor was not humored and it almost caused my first situation regarding restraints. It was okay though, that opportunity was just around the corner and I took full advantage of it this time around.

Eventually, I received several treatments over time and was told beforehand that the most common side effect of ECT is temporary memory problems. They were right, but the fact that I was hospitalized just prior to this therapy indicated that the doctor felt my suicidal tendencies were reeling out of control so I suppose ECT was the better of the two options.

Some memory loss is probably an okay thing but for those remnants I will never know because they are blissfully gone. I do recall ‘losing it’ in a Washington Post Office and watching several very large policemen help me gain my bearings, that is back to my feet from a fetal position.  If you have never watched yourself in ultra slow motion I recommend it.

I recall watching myself in ‘out of body’ experiences and on more than one occasion I talked myself out of jumping from my window.  I realize this sounds a bit weird and yet I have to claim it and I imagine others who are bipolar can attest to the same experiences. The good news is I never used a bullhorn to talk myself down.

One more little ‘fun fact’ and then I will move on. This one was in an Ophthalmologist’s office. Once again, there is a happy ending since my hospital stay was cut short and, as a result, I gained valuable experience.  Lesson learned: Don’t stretch out of the floor (absolutely prone) of a busy office when there are plenty of chairs available, especially when the office is one that specializes in helping people see better.  They saw me and felt that my actions were not in keeping with the norm. Several other patients ruined it for me by sitting in chairs. That may have been okay except so many people needed to step over me to get to the Opticians’ desk.  So you get the idea.

lessons from a sheep dog

Artwork:  tolbert



he built a fortress with his hands
then climbed behind its walls,
and shouted to those in command
“you better run before it falls!”

he played alone amongst the stones
of false security,
and when the fortress tumbled down
the people came to see.

they chopped the wood
and rolled the stones
that formed a bundled mess
and when they got the fortress cleared
they stared in real distress.

for there they found no body
stretched beneath the rubbish heap,
but only a book that told of fools
who cleared a man’s debris

Next: Journey      (4 of 7)