Tag Archives: chronic

King of Pain

29 Oct
King of Pain
I wake up and the crown descends and digs into my skull
The King of Pain has risen and the day will not be dull
It won’t be numb, it won’t be foggy, cloudy, fuzzy, dim
Because I don’t use alcohol to make my aching slim
I don’t use weed to take the edge off of my Kingdom’s strain
I don’t use coke or smack to bring fleeting joy to my brain
I am a Warrior and I believe I do not need
Anything outside myself to survive or succeed
While peasants popped their pills at every hint of misery
While paupers took a swig or shot for one night to be free
While peons, rubes and boors lit up and blocked the pain with smoke
This King faced torment head-on and here’s what years did invoke:
Patience, perseverance, courage, adamance, resolve
Self-belief, self-confidence, incentive to evolve
Clarity to see that we empower all the things
From which we run and hide from, while confronting always brings
Growth and depth and understanding, confidence and peace
Normals robbed themselves each time they used something to cease
The lightning shooting through their nerves while Kings all choose to reign
Be challenged, tested, honed and forged by their Kingdom of Pain

The Mileage

2 Jul


Dark and Quiet

26 Nov

Dark & Quiet

This message is more specific
Than most that I do write
It’s directed at people who
Wage a similar fight

It’s for those who are dealing with
A chronic kind of pain
Physical in body or
Emotional in brain

I’ve managed to reintegrate
Myself in the workforce
After years of having my
Ailments take me off course

I was not able to pick up
Exactly where I’d left
Some factors had to be tweaked and
Conditions made bereft

When one is constantly in pain
Your senses grow intense
Making things a bit darker
Serves as a good defense

The normal lighting tubes above
Which most will pay no mind
Over prolonged hours cause
Fatigue is what I find

And so I’ve made an effort to
Keep man-made light around
Dimmer than normal in order
To feel much less wound

Darkened lenses on my glasses
Also help to serve
To block excessive lighting in
Which plucks the painful nerve

Yes, some will look at you strange
Or say, “You think you’re cool?”
But to me, he who worries of
Such things is the real fool

The other factor that has helped
Is to keep the noise low
I’ve made an effort to stay clear
Of those who do bellow

And speak more loudly than is needed
All that extra noise
Over time will only serve
To erode all your poise

The truth is that most people talk
Far more than is required
And I have learned that excess only
Leads to getting tired

I choose my actions carefully
And made what I have last
And that applies to talking when
I’m contacted or asked

It isn’t necessary to
Just yammer on all day
And being one who has learned this
I like to stay away

From those who have no concept of
“Enough” because they just
Serve to be another pain
That is upon me thrust

Dark and quiet’s how I work
And where my peace does thrive
Dark and quiet’s how this broken
Vessel does survive

You cannot stop your body from
Breaking down, but you can
Change your outside factors and
Devise a fitting plan

To work around what holds you back
But you must have the guts
To make accommodations even
If they’ll think you’re nuts


The Wretch

5 Sep

“Pain is meant to wake us up. People try to hide their pain. But they’re wrong. Pain is something to carry, like a radio. You feel your strength in the experience of pain. It’s all in how you carry it. That’s what matters. Pain is a feeling. Your feelings are a part of you. Your own reality. If you feel ashamed of them, and hide them, you’re letting society destroy your reality. You should stand up for your right to feel your pain.” ~Jim Morrison

The Wretch

There once was a pathetic wretch who got an injury
To get away from chronic pain was his one constant plea
The shooting pain turned him into a sour, sorry grouch
All he wanted to do was to lay down on the couch

He whined and cried and wanted all to feel sorry for him
He thought they did not understand how arduous and grim
That each and every single day had become in his life
No one understood, not friends, not family, not wife

He searched for help but no one seemed to be able to aid
Even the good Lord above was silent when he prayed
But then one day he encountered one with no sympathy
Who understood him well and proceeded to shake his tree

While many said, “So sorry” and they tried in vain to help
This Warrior he spoke to looked at him like a small whelp
This Warrior would not listen to all of his complaining
She made it clear to him that what it took was intense training

She closed the door on his dream of living his life pain free
She did explain that it was something he would never see
She called him on his bullshit and she told him who he was
She told him that managing pain is what a Warrior does

She told him, “It’s a part of you” and to step up and own
That it was now ingrained in him as much as flesh and bone
That he needed to embrace it as he embraced the rest
That it was something not to be loathed, hated or repressed

“Feel, accept, control, conquer, repeat when it is needed”
She looked at him with no remorse, he thought she was conceded
It burned how little sympathy she showed and made him feel
Like he was a pathetic wretch who liked to moan and squeal

He walked away from that meeting surprised and quite offended
But shortly after that he pondered and he comprehended
The cold, calm look upon her face had haunted him for days
It was the look of strength and truth in that Warrior’s gaze

She didn’t dance around his feelings or mince what she said
And she was the only person whose words rang in his head
The well wishes and thoughts and prayers went in and out one ear
But something about her delivery had shown no fear

The look upon her face he now thought back and did discern
She’d faced the same battle and now her Warrior eyes did burn
She came upon the same problem and made the choice to own
And that was why to his complaining she could not be prone

She knew it was not such a beast, that he was stronger than
Anything that ailed him but because he turned and ran
She saw him as pathetic for making the coward’s choice
No longer could he disagree with her Warrior voice

He stopped complaining of the painful hand that had been dealt
He left the groaning out when he spoke about how he felt
He kept a straight face and he clutched his pain close to his chest
“Thank you, Lord” he said to God, “I do feel very blessed”

Every single time he felt a stabbing, aching pain
He suited up and prepared to do battle with his brain
He fought and survived every time and grew in confidence
And since he learned great self-control, he did not take offense

Whenever someone else attacked, to him, another pain
To be endured with grace and strength on his life-long campaign
Of managing, not getting rid of all the things that hurt
He learned that the key was to face, not to run and avert

He was so thankful to that Warrior who told him straight
Who made him feel he was pathetic and made him irate
Now a Warrior, he did admit that she was right
He had become a wretch ‘cause of his chronic, painful plight

And since he did embrace the painful truth that she had spoke
No longer did he feel like a pathetic, sad jamoke
He did become a Warrior Poet who then did write
Wise words which at times offended, stung and did incite

But always had a theme which most were able to infer:
All the things that hold you back, discourage and deter
Are things that you can embrace, face and take ownership for
You have the strength within to fight that never-ending war


Sorry Sam

12 Mar

“If you have time to whine and complain about something then you have the time to do something about it.”  ~Anthony J. D’Angelo

Sorry Sam

There was a man named Sorry Sam
Who always felt so sorry
For himself and his troubles
Let me relate his story

Old Sorry Sam just cried all day
About all of his pain
And after several days of this
He drove others insane

While Sorry Sam was seeking some
Pity and sympathy
All that came from others was
Negative energy

His lack of strength and backbone made
The others all quite sick
While Sam thought himself a martyr
The others thought “a prick”

While Sorry Sam thought his burden
Was far too much to bear
His whining and ingratitude
Made others just not care

“Gratitude for what?” old Sam
Scoffed as he winced from ache
The others shook their heads and said
“For fact you’re still awake!”

The fact that you’re still breathing when
There are so many braver
Who never whined and cried but now
No longer have your favor

They’re buried in the ground or are
Adrift as dust in wind
You’re crying and complaining as if
You are being skinned!

Show some grace and just shut up
And take it like a man
You’d be surprised just how far your
Courage and strength do span

If only you’d just shut up and
Stop running your big mouth
And focus on another body
Part that is due south:

Your guts, the stuff that pulls you though
Whatever does attack
The guts are what makes people stop
Acting like a sad sack!”

Sorry Sam just stood in awe
His mouth wide and agape
He had hoped for some sympathy
But instead got a scrape

A kick, a punch, and scalding hot
Water thrown on ego
Suddenly he didn’t feel
Like crying of his woe

When he had been a witness to
Some whining in return
While listening to them complain
Sorry Sam then did learn

That no one does get sympathy
When all they do is wretch
And so from then old Sorry Sam
No longer did kvetch

Whenever something did not go
According to his plan
Old Sorry Sam did not complain
He took it like a man

Whenever his big aches and pains
Attacked and ripped away
Old Sorry Sam just grit his teeth
So mouth would not betray

And soon enough there came a day
When Sorry Sam was Strong
And then one day there came a man
Who rubbed Strong Sam quite wrong

This other man just whined and cried
And after many days
Old Strong Sam bellowed “Shut your trap!
And don’t just cry, but praise!

Be thankful for what you still have
And don’t focus on bad!”
He thought about how he had changed
And now he was quite glad

That he was not pathetic or
In need of people’s pity
He saw that what’s within is stronger
Than a whole committee

Of people who just pander and
Feel sorry for the weak
He thought about how ironic
It was that many seek

And wish and pray for sympathy
But they have what they need
But only when their mouth is shut
Can their truth strength be freed


F**k Comfort

15 Sep

F**k Comfort

So often when someone’s going
Through a trying time
They want to just take it easy
Take a break from the climb

“Now is not the best time ‘cause
I’m going through some things”
Is the song that a person
Who seeks out comfort sings

I say with all my vigor
“The loaded gun’s in front of you
Have courage, pull the trigger!”

Growth comes from discomfort, there
Is no denying that
No one ever got stronger
Who only hid and sat

“What the hell you waiting for?
A bright and sunny day?
For all the pieces to fall into
Place and go your way?”

I tell them that my mind and body
Only grew when I
Embraced discomfort and ploughed through
Instead of whine and cry

When my body fell apart
It wasn’t until when
I accepted aches and pains
That I discovered Zen

When I lost my job that paid me
Quite a bit of dough
It wasn’t ‘till I stopped caring
That my real wealth did flow

It wasn’t ‘till I lost my house
That I did understand
“Home” is where you’re standing now
And not a piece of land

When I lost my firstborn (yes
That is some heavy stuff)
Confronting it and letting go
Is how I got so tough

Shit is going to happen, you can
Count on that, my friends
Whether it makes you stronger
On you solely depends

If you need a break from life
‘Cause you can’t deal right now
This warrior who’s been through hell
Will make you this stern vow:

“You’ll always suffer through your life
Because you are a prince
Or princess who desires comfort
And at pain does wince

You’ll never achieve anything
For the good of mankind

So get the hell out of the way
Of warriors like me
If we can’t inspire you
To all that you can be

Then do us just this one comfort
That we ourselves will grant
Shut up and please spare us your
Discomfortable rant

‘Cause warriors see wasted chances
Where you could have grown
Princes and princesses who just
Bitch and cry and moan”



7 Sep


Weather must be changing
Bones all throb and ache
The dagger in my shoulder
Now feels like a stake

Gravity is pulling
Even harder when
All the leaves are falling
Off the trees again

Every shift in weather
Connects to a nerve ending
Every time it rains
A new pain is sending

Most see cloudy days
As just a dreary thing
Not a scorpion
That all day does sting

All my joints inflame
Depending on the weather
Storm and shoulder rumble
And thunder all together

Lighting strikes across
The sky while bright lights flash
Across my eyes when daggers
In my body slash

“Oh no, a dreary day”
I hear and shake my head
“You have no idea”
My thought words go unsaid

I grit my teeth and wait
For the next sunny day
Connected to a climate
That won’t as much weigh