William Petruzzo

What am I?

The grass says,

“I am grass. I am green.
but I wish I were that grass; greener.”

The wood says,

“I am wood. I am hard.
but I wish I were stone; harder.”

The song says,

“I am a song. I sound sweet.
but I wish I were a love song; sweeter.”

The man says,

“I am human. I am useful.
but I wish I were you; just you.”

But the grass,
The grass knows better.

Beating, breathing,
pumping, flowing,
closing, opening,
accepting, rejecting,
Fighting, winning,
finding, expelling.

Organic.

These things,
they just happen.
Most of the time;
Except in the sick.

Where is the ambulance?
Who can the hospital help?

Only doctors.

I’ve been up too late.
I’ve been sleeping too long.
I’ve been eating too much.
And all of it’s been wrong.

But regardless, I’m;

Waiting, missing.
Finding, losing.
Hoping, failing.
Forgetting, succeeding.

Word from the wise,
Solomon had it right.

Get a grip, get a grip!
You know what to do.
You know how to do it.
It’s not always bubbles,
It’s not always butterflies!

I know, I know.
But is it it if there aren’t?
If you didn’t feel tired, are you?
If you don’t feel hungry, are you?
If you don’t feel angry, happy,
sad, scared, are you?

Well, are you?

Listen, listen.
Just stick to the script.
Just stick to the lines.
Stick to the stage.
You’ll be fine.

But wait, wait.
Does a script mean I’m just an actor?
An actor plays a doctor.
Does he do surgery?
An actor plays a judge.
Does he give sentences?

Well, does he?

There’s something I really love about thunder storms. One of my favorite things to do is to sit on my front porch during a really active, noisy thunderstorm. I always seem to forget ho much I love it until the opportunity arises and I’m reminded. I could sit out there for hours if the storm would permit. I think it’s got something to do with a sense of totally detached chaos. I have absolutely no control over a storm. It will happen regardless of what I do or do not do. That is fascinating to me.

Tonight was a storm, right in the vein that I love. The lightening was almost continuous and the thunder was that kind that you’re uncertain of which direction it’s coming from. The kind that has not so many cracks, but far more rumblings that you can feel in your chest. I imagine it was like Moses in the cleft of the rock. Just beautiful.

Grant me fear that I should be
Humble before such as thee.
Thee complete, I cannot see,
But in thy works, behold, majesty.

Make for me a heart of flesh
And place it here inside mine breast
Ever more to know mine Lord
For upon the cross I hath been blessed.

Perhaps
At the game;
For the man in the stands with the Handycam.

Maybe
The classroom;
For the man when he stands with his belt in hand.

Certainly
In the home;
For the man understands that life must go as planned.

But caution:
For likely a burden
To heavy to bear,
When energies down here,
And not up there.

Forever
Pay attention;
For while father may be pleased—Father may be grieved.

Just a thought:

Apparent connections don’t necessarily imply connections. Conspiracy theorists and evolutionists alike seem to confuse the idea. Simply because we can draw a line between one thing in our minds to another, doesn’t necessarily mean the line is actually there. But it’s not just evolutionists and political nut jobs who tend to that kind of thinking—Everyone tends to that kind of thinking. Especially when God is involved. “I am suffering, and therefore God does not love me,” or “I remember putting my faith in God and therefore, I am responsible for my faith.” We do that kind of thing regularly and don’t usually notice it. At least I don’t.

Check out poet (or comedian, I’m not exactly sure which one) Rives demonstration of the idea. This was the inspiration for the thought.

Have you ever been swept up in the possibilities of life? I mean, like the vast possibilities. People occupy the entire array of possible lifestyles and esteem. Globally, I mean. Kings; princes; government officials; wealthy business men; executives; movie stars; rock stars; upper management; lower management; blue collar workers; hard laborers; retail workers; public servants; children; the poor; the homeless; the dying; the sick. We’ve got people minutes from being born, and people minutes from dying. All the different things that could happen, in all the different situations and circumstances that arise throughout a person’s life, cascade out to what seems like an almost endless set of possibilities of where a person can end up.

Here in America we’re sort of bred into a kind of ‘you can do whatever you put your mind to’ ideology; which, for a number of reasons isn’t true—and probably destructive. Most folks in America will grow up with their hands in one thing but their eyes on another altogether. Most will pass without a trace; forgotten by people within a few decades at most. Some will have a longer run; entertainers and servants, whose work will exceed their life span. A very select few will make it into history books on account of their great leadership or massive blunders. But none will enjoy these comforts and joys; none will be able to enjoy his status with any real longevity, instead, folks he’ll never meet will. “…A person who has toiled with wisdom and knowledge and skill must leave everything to be enjoyed by someone who did not toil for it” (Ecclesiastes 2:21).

There are some times when I forget the big picture. I look so closely at this life—what I’d like to achieve, who I’d like to be, the statuses I’d like to enjoy, the relationships I’d like to have—and forget how truly fleeting they are. I sometimes foolishly give my heart to these things and grieve that I do not now enjoy them. But all the while, if my gaze would be upon the big picture, I would see the grandness of what is to be enjoyed and the triviality of what I feign for.

May the Lord grant mercy to me and my brothers and sisters in this. And may he give strength to place our hearts in heaven, and so there we may also find our treasure.

Tragic,
To miss
To see
What way deep down
We’d like
To be.
Believe,
If here
It fails
A test of taste
To move
These scales.

I am the king;
I am the prince;
And I am the jester;

I will be succeeded;
I will be entertained;
And I will do whatever it takes;

I am the General;
I am the Lieutenant;
And I am the sword;

I will give commands;
I will do as told;
And I will stop at nothing;

I am the guard;
I am the prison;
And I am the shackles;

I will keep careful watch;
I will seal every exit;
And I will stay tightly fastened;

I am the thief;
I am the prisoner;
And I am the weary, tired and sick;

I will hold the blame;
I will remain in chains;
And I will withhold the cure;

Who shall rescue us from this body of death?