I am Wolverine

My son and I play Fortnite. For those of you who only know the name, you’re missing something huge.

It’s not that you have to play or have to like it or anything like that but it’s an important thing, Fortnite, to know about. It’s important if you have kids because most likely, even if they’re not playing, they are being socialized around it because all their friends are playing. It’s important to know even if you don’t have kids because it’s (or something similar) probably a top 5 social influencer for the next generation.

But that’s a different conversation and one that can be had. I’m here to talk about being Wolverine so that’s what I’m gonna do. In the meantime google Fortnite and do a little research.

Wolverine, the Marvel character who has the claws that come out of his knuckles, can also heal himself. The orgins aren’t what I’m talking about here, suffice it to say that Wolverine has the ability to heal his body from any trauma.

He also happens to be be one of the characters in the newest “Season” of Fortnite, along with She-Hulk, Mystique, Antman, Captain America, Iron Man, Dr. Doom, Groot and a few more. Bottom line, kids are being introduced to these “Super Heroes” not through comic books, but through deeply integrated video game worlds, like Fortnite.

So my son knows about Wolverine. We’ve spent some time trying to eliminate the beast in the game and getting our butts kicked because, well, Wolverine heals himself. So if you don’t continue the assault consistently, he will build his health back and come to slice you and dice you. There’s been many “God Dammit” moments when battling inside the game with The Wolverine.

Ok so let’s transition now.

I slammed my finger, my left ring finger, right on the nail, about 2 months ago. It hurt and immediately turned black and blue under the nail. It started back, close to the cuticle, so the base of my nail was black and blue and the tip of the nail was still the regular nail color.

I never noticed how much people noticed things, hmmm. And for the next few months I had endless comments about my finger. “ooh, what happened?”, “ewww, gross!”, “Oh man you have to fix that!”…and all sorts of comments basically proclaiming that there was something wrong with my finger and, with me for not doing more for my finger.

Well, there was something wrong with my finger. I had hurt it and so it was looking hurt.

I began to notice my Wolverine like qualities as the blue/black patch began to move up my nail towards the tip. I began to notice the color of my nail at the cuticle was returning to nail color and the patch was now in the middle of my nail. More people commented and told me I should have it looked at, should get it taken care of, that it was an injury.

I thought to myself…I’m pretty sure this is what it looks like when the body heals itself. And, yes, it’s true. My body was (and still is) healing itself and it’s the most beautiful, powerful and visually engaging (read disgusting looking) process but man do I feel luck to be a part of it. I’ve wondered what would have happened if I went to “get it fixed” or if I tried to “fix it myself”.

Are there times when you need to get yourself fixed? Obvi! Can medicine be good, obvi! Not the point.

The point is:

I AM WOLVERINE!
and so are you…so before you go “fixing” every last thing, if life gives you a chance to witness your own Wolverine, let it be and watch and appreciate your own superpower. You have a superpower. You CAN heal yourself and it’s a real gift to witness.

You are Wolverine!

Facing Hate

The world isn’t ready to have some conversations.
so…fine…
leave them behind
leave them in the dark
but then…
how do you not let
the dark
win?

What do you do
when faced with hate.
I feel embarrassed
as soon as I ask the question.

As if people haven’t been dealing with that for all time.
As if people haven’t shown the answer
As if people haven’t paid with their lives
As if I don’t know,
and therein lies my coward…
as if I don’t know…

Campbell says:
“The Labyrinth is fully known”

What do you do when faced with hate?
You hide
or
You stand and face it.

Courage

I think I’ve found my coward
he’s been there quite some time
avoiding all perception
wishing on passing time.

It’s strange to feel his strength
it’s strange that he’s so strong
I always thought that he was weak
I never knew that I was wrong.

But there he is, a superhero
taking up all the space
telling me how important he is
telling me to give up the race.

He tells such tales of pain to come
he has such dire warnings
he rings alarms and blares the klaxons
from night until the morning.

He’s been hiding behind his best friend
the one that I call pride
and the two make quite a pair
when you put them side by side.

Pride is more the devil
because he does the devil’s work
he keeps me blind, infects my mind
and plays a trick on my self worth.

But when the pride is busted
and the facade falls to the ground
and you are left stark naked
the coward comes around.

He reminds me of my youth
before I created pride
of a time I was so scared
I just wanted to run and hide.

I was a little boy
so bright and fresh for the day
and all I wanted in my life
was to play and play and play.

I didn’t want to save the world
I didn’t want to stand up tall
I didn’t want to do “the right thing”
or anything at all.

What I wanted was to run and yell
And jump and play and shout
what I wanted was to live in life
having fun without a doubt.

And, I suppose, that’s the best of childhood
to build a foundation out of joy
of living life without the worry
oh, to be a boy.

But that is not how life is.

That is not the way of our society
That is not the way of the adult
Worry is our joy
Punishment is our cult.

And the little boy believes this
he believes what he’s been told
he has nothing else to go against
what his parents say is gold.

And that little boy must face it
in a shocking and dreadful way
he must face the worry and the blame
and do what his parents say.

And when he does, and no one’s trained him.
the little boy, he is not strong,
He’s soft and understanding
when the first hit, it comes along.

And of course he is a coward
even if he strikes back
because fighting back is not the issue
it’s that he was attacked.

It’s that the worlds not safe
the world he thought he knew
he can’t make sense, he doesn’t see
beyond the pain, so new.

So the little boy, he pulls back
not fully, not for now
he’s staggered and now shaded
by the darkness that’s come down.

And more attacks will come
he doesn’t take them on the surface
his little heart gets battered
and he’s introduced to worthless.

And so the boy, without his knowledge
begins to build a wall
he thinks he can protect his heart
and thus begins the fall.

So up it goes, and that’s the pride
just trying to feel safe
the boy was young, decades to come
as he joined the human race.

The wall grew strong
and the coward stood behind it
coward was the boys young hurt
he might not ever find it.

Life’s not static, decisions made
the boys wall is now a fortress
when you turn away from your heart
you turn away from your purpose.

A boys pride knows this but the boy does not
and the pride becomes the purpose
and the world is made by many men
who teach this on the surface.

And the surface becomes the purpose
and the purpose becomes the fortress
and the boys are lost and the men are weak
and pride rules the day on purpose.

But there are times
when the heart does speak
and loud enough to be heard
even if it’s been walled up
even if it’s been ignored.

There are times because it must be
that the walls they start to crumble
or maybe they’re shot down completely
and the man begins to humble.

And when that happens, through the fog
and the rubble of the years
the man can see the coward
through the veil of his young tears.

And the man can see the truth
maybe the first since he’s a boy
the man can see the coward
is just pain that leads back to joy.

Nothing is as it seems
except the pain of being human
everything’s a dream
except the joy that is illumined

And when the walls come down
and the heart is on display
it’s clear the heart is starving
to be with the man today.

So if you one day have
a terrible attack
and walls begin to shatter
facades begin to crack
and you can feel the pain, again
of youth and innocence
and you begin to feel the pain, again
of the original violence
you might see the Coward is me,
my boyish heart, it all makes sense.

He’s a boy
who learned
that love was pain
and soul betrayal
not for evil or for bad
but because we are so frail
in love
we know nothing of it
and why should we
when we’ve been taught
that there is so much above it.

Oh my god, my boyish heart
it’s good to see you once again,
I’ll do better,
I know better,
I’ll be a better friend.

Pride has served it’s purpose
now it’s courage time,
maybe courage IS my heart
I think that I was blind.
But my heart it does not punish me
only welcomes me back home
it would sit forever
if I chose, again, to roam
and wear a patient smile
because it knows I’m not alone.



The Monster

The girl shrieked
the cameras recoiled
and then
came forward
to eat.
No one had to look up
Because there was
no one left.
There was just…

Feeding.

And there was no way
to ever get back again.
Everything had been…

Consumed.

The mothers knew better
but the knowing was not
accessible to them.
They had sealed it
Cauterized
with the pain of mortality
and reality of chaos.

The fathers knew better
but most were afraid
of the mothers
and were not strong enough
to hold.

I don’t know if I am strong enough to hold.

The biggest monster
has been revealed
and he…

HE

is hungry.

The Myth

I can hear
the tiredness
and the pain.

It will always break my heart.

But what else is a heart for…

What will I do when it’s over
What will I do when there’s nothing left to fight against
What will I do when they win.

Will I join them?

A fate worse than death.

Will I join them?

They will welcome me into their maw
glistening, sharp
ferociously hungry
they will consume me
like all the rest.

And then, I will be joined to them
part of them
and I can consume, unheeded
I can roar through
the life
deafening all with my hunger
to cling
to the myth of my incapable
and violated
self.

Bubba Knows Best

It’s mostly sad.
It’s mostly pain.
Cash says “Empire of Dirt”
I say, truth hurts.

No need to shield yourself
anymore.

Petty says “It’s only a broken heart”.

And Joanna says “What else is a heart for”
if not to be broken.

Bright and Hot

As I remove the blocks
and wet slabs of earth
that have shielded me
from my flame
I feel cold
disoriented
alone.

But there my flame is.

There it is.

Burning, bright and hot
True.

The Savagery of the Victim

It’s easier
to be confident
in your choice
when you see
the behavior
of those who disagree.

It’s not the only thing
but it is A thing.

In the end
you may be wrong
but you weren’t
fast and furious
to take life
even if life was taken
before.

That is something
to be proud of
no matter the situation.

You didn’t choose
the savagery
of the victim.

Maybe you are wrong
but you didn’t choose
the savagery
of the victim.

What is Justice?

Yes.
I have been thinking about this.

It’s what we tell you
it’s what I say
it’s what the guns say
it’s what the laws say
it’s what the loudest say
it’s what the mobs say.

It’s what I tell you.

And I quake
and shake
and quiver…
my finger, I can feel it,
my eyes fill with red
and roll back
from the gut
I can feel it
It’s coming
hot and hard
and with the rise
comes the pointing
my finger
my safety
my understanding

I raise my hand
finger out
eyes rolling back
small spittle motivated

It’s You!

Orgasm.

It’s You!
It’s You!
It’s You!

But I don’t understand…

Ahhhh…but that is not true.

Futility

Under seige
under water
but I hear that I deserve it

And so it fits
my guilt, it sits
Eager for the brunt of it

But there is a glimmer
brighter than before
but still small,
and fragile like a flower.

There is a world
and I feel assaulted
from all sides
and from those I love

I’ve been practicing
to find myself
since I learned
of my true fate

And I wish I could do better
in the face of all the hate
but I’m grateful that I see it
especially in me
I’m grateful,
though not free of it
it’s not how I want to be.

And my single minded focus
will make it lonely in the end
So I listen to the Dalai Lama
and become my own best friend.

I’m told that I’m controlling
I’m told I am the key
to other people’s freedom
I’m told that without me
Their life, they would be free.

And I see how I’m the teller
of all the tales and stories
How I’m the holder of the keys
and the definer of all glories
I see how I’m not different
than what I claim to hate
I see how without me changing
I’ve stamped and sealed my fate.



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