Still Balancing

Here it is with a background story and a conclusion. Hope you like it.


Chores or Seeking Artistic insight in the midst of domestic bliss

Oh now, yes, ok, alright, the kids have gone to bed tonight.

Lots to do that’s for sure to get everything ready the night before.

Pack the lunches, wash the dishes, wipe the counter, feed the fishes.

Fold the laundry, iron my shirt, pick up the shoes, and sweep up the dirt.

Off to clean the clothes that are dirty, and then you know it’s 12:30.

Whoa now, wow, that went fast, it’s amazing how little time seems to last.

Pushing hard to finish my part for a precious ten minutes to work on my art.

Then I think about others who love to create and wonder how they had time to be so great?

Did Ernest Hemingway wait to write in order to do the dishes at night?

Did Jimmy Page stop his guitar shredding to concern himself with proper bedding?

Did Michael Jordan leave behind the team to empty out the washing machine?

Did Che Guevara blow off an insurgent because he had to run out for laundry detergent?

Did Mike Tyson quit his practice punches to make his kids school lunches?

Can someone tell me if these gentleman so majestic have paused their craft to be so domestic?

“I must pause at my canvas” says Clyford Stils “to pay a bevy of online bills.”

“I must stop the jam,” says Bob Weir, “to clean the toothpaste off the mirror.”

“I must lay down my trusty axe,” says Slash,” in order to take out tomorrow’s trash.”

“I must delay my treatise,” says Aristotle, “to warm up milk for the baby’s bottle.”

“I must pause la vida loca”, says Ricky Martin “to let the dog out cause he keeps fartin.”

You think about what it takes to achieve brilliance in what one creates.

I guess life will always get in the way which is why you must focus on your craft today.

For the single step in the longest journey is the hardest when you are trying to hurry.

Yet as I ponder the achievements of those listed, one can see they are all very gifted

And still it’s hard to understand that they were all just one man

To do chores, and tasks then write books and drink flasks

There had to be someone, a person, another…..You know I bet they all lived with their mother.

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