Author Archives: abclarke

About abclarke

http://www.linkedin.com/in/ArtClarke

Give & Take

Take the good when it comes.
Take the bad when it comes.
Take it easy,
But take it.

Don’t give as good as you get —
Give the good that you get;
Take the bad that you get
And breathe as you let go.

Stuck in the Middle? | The Coconut Chronicles

Thought #30

Sometimes I fight the sunshine of hope
Forgetting that having planted seeds of love
Watered with trickles of affection
(And occasionally weeded of poisons)
I need but wait for light and time
To bear fruit that feeds the world.

9 Tips for Encouraging Healthy and Good Eating Habits in Kids

Five Year Plan

Comrades,

Upon the glorious completion of our last five-year-plan, I am proud to represent that our selfless serving of the people has led to a flowering of industry and population and charity and love and serenity and harmony and strength and pride and perfection, as we have grabbed the mantle of our destiny to become the premier brotherhood of the world.

Is it not self-evident that none of this would have occurred with the bold vision of our last five-year-plan!

And so I urge us to continue our brave leadership and vote to ratify the presented new five-year-plan, that just as surely will lead to a reflowering of industry and population and charity and love and serenity and harmony and strength and pride and perfection, as we maintain and further our mantle as the premier brotherhood of the world, through increasing our production of wheat from three hundred million bushels per annum to three hundred thirty four million bushels per annum.

Yours,

Your Chairman

Ode To The Average Man

No wants to be an average man.
Instead we desire to avoid pain. But
A life without struggle is a partial life,
A grotesque half-man,
A walking corpse that does not know it.

No wants to be an average man.
We conspicuously covet above-average, while
We covertly lament the below,
Missing the entire time
The glorious wholeness of the mean.

No one wants to be an average man.
Which is strange,
For we yearn for the unattainable and
Average is so unattainable.
No man has an average amount of

Love, and pain, and joy, and grief, and
Flowers, and cockroaches, and lullabies and screams, and
Accolades, and roastings, and pillories, and parades, and
Children, and pets, and honey-soaked dates, and barren harvests, and
Sunsets, and sunrises, and rain-soaked meanderings and sun-drenched naps.

So here’s to the average man,
An ideal no one idolizes,
A perfection unattained,
The mountaintop we all climb
But can never summit.

[IMAGE DESCRIPTION]
The Average Man – Nickolay Lamm

Time Traveler

Years ago I went on a future-trip
To an unimaginably distant land
Full of wonders and richness I was unworthy of

Where the natives growled and howled and snarled
Throwing rocks and stones and barbs upon me
Whispering “you don’t belong! you don’t belong!”

Now I live in that distant land
And find no natives, but travelers
All whispering “Do I belong? Do I belong?”

Yet my mind still lies to me and says
In the future lands I must visit
I am unworthy. I do not belong.

Uncharted territory amateur cartographers fight to put their communities on the map

Things I Have Discovered While Running In The Dark

A giant pink dildo in a bear-proof trashcan in San Francisco’s Presidio.
More people are asleep than awake. 
A man collapsed with a needle in his arm on Sixth Street.
At times we all run alone in the dark.
A stray brown dog that ran with me up a Turkish mountainside.
We are rarely as alone as we think.
A homeless woman cheering me on on Market Street.
Friends will run along side us no matter how dark it is.

Shivering in the fog overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge.
We have limits.
Gently jogging to meet the sunrise over the Oakland Bay Bridge.
The importance of conservation of energy.
The lights of Waikiki twinkling below the pill boxes atop Diamond Head.
We have hidden reserves.
The kind ER doctor who inquired if I planned suicide in Mission Bay.
Our limits are often not what we think they are.

An eight-foot-tall clown’s head protruding from fog in Stern Grove.
The absurdity of it all.
Accidentally stumbling upon the Little Mermaid in Copenhagen.
The serendipity of life when we let go.
Volunteers with orange sherbet at mile twenty-two in Napa.
The pride of going the distance.
Clanking masts gently kissing in the Dubrovnik harbor.
The love that awaits our return.

A freshly-murdered man at Christmas Tree Point.
We cannot stay awake forever. 
Coyotes scurrying by in Corona Heights.
When we awaken it is time to start running.
Resting a moment in a New Orleans’ graveyard.
Recovery is part of the journey.
The drifter asking “what time is it?” on Billionaires’ Row.
When awake, the answer is now.

The lights of Waikiki twinkling below the pill boxes atop Diamond Head.

Headwinds

The canvas of society
Is blown by the furies of the populace
As we sail the oceanic void of existence.

The passions push as we run downwind,
The bullets fly as we reach,
And the renegades howl as we close haul.

Without the revolutionaries we’d be in irons,
And most times the dangerous blowhards
Fly through the sail to die parched alone.

And yet I cannot help but fear
The storms that blow over our bow
Shall wreck us this time.

Almost, But Not, Symmetrical (4)

Family.

We all have them.
Our parents had them.
Our’s inherit from theirs.

We play with them.
Sometimes we indulge them.
Sometimes we regret.

We fight with them.
Sometimes we expel them.
Sometimes reunions are … complex.

Yet…

When we acknowledge,
Without subservience,
Their individuality…

When we honor,
Without worshipping,
Their power…

When we forgive,
Without condoning,
Their mistakes…

When we discipline,
Without anger,
Their transgressions…

When we support,
Without coddling,
Their struggles…

When we praise,
Without semblance,
Their growth…

When we accept,
Without shame,
Their flaws…

When we cherish,
Without limits,
Their totality…

Beauty becomes them.
We become whole with them.
We learn the nature of love.

Demons.

We all have them.
Our parents had them.
Our’s inherit from theirs.

We play with them.
Sometimes we indulge them.
Sometimes we regret.

We fight with them.
Sometimes we expel them.
Sometimes reunions are … complex.

Yet…

When we acknowledge,
Without subservience,
Their individuality…

When we honor,
Without worshipping,
Their power…

When we forgive,
Without condoning,
Their mistakes…

When we discipline,
Without anger,
Their transgressions…

When we support,
Without coddling,
Their struggles…

When we praise,
Without semblance,
Their growth…

When we accept,
Without shame,
Their flaws…

When we cherish,
Without limits,
Their totality…

Beauty becomes them.
We become whole with them.
We learn the nature of love.

File:Buddha, resisting the demons of Mara, Wellcome V0046085.jpg -  Wikimedia Commons