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For MM aka Mary Ann.
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Control

Flipping channels to surfin' the Internet,
I am in control.

The goddess of my world,
All bend to me.

I hurt.  I ache.  I cry.
All alone in these am I.

I never release control to thee.
I must maintain my space, my control.

One day they come,
I no longer rule here.

He hurt me.
I am dethroned.

I walk naked at his chain.
Beaten, alone, hurting.

They grant me nothing,
stealing everything.

There is no value in me left.
No control here now.

I look about me quietly.
Searching for anything.

I come upon a pebble.
A tiny rock really.

I quickly scoop it up,
hiding it in my mouth.

This is my new friend.
I control this friend totally.

I am the master.
It is my slave.

I throw it.
It leaves me.

I hold it.
It stays.

It is empty really.
Not much in it at all.

I ache knowing nothing.
I ache wanting everything.

All things are alone.
I am an island among many.

Several bridges and many walls surround me.
What control do I have outside of this island?

Even I am not my own.
My body betrays me, as all do.

Nothing obeys me.
I am really alone.

I search day and night for my purpose.
I look for me.  I look for my control.

I strengthen every muscle that I influence.
Pumping iron, weilding ideas, and making decisions.

I fight the great fight.
I survive and I live.

There is an ocean out there.
I intend to sea it.

I set my rudder.
Focus my sails.

I pull out that paddle.
I hum the "Bottle of Rum" song.

Learning paddling, rigging, sailing, and more,
I weather many a storm on my boat of dry land.

I hurt at times.
I pray at others.

I see nothing and everything.
Knowing all and seeing nothing.

There is little that I control
that I see.  I only know that I choose.

I suppose that is where my control lies.
My power.  My life.  I Choose.

"To be or not to be,
That is the question."

Each choice matters.
What is the right choice?

I don't know.
Perhaps desire or goals should guide.

My rudder is sometimes loose,
other times rusty.

I feel little and know nothing.
The control slips and wavers.

I straighten, setting the rudder again as I go.
The stars are sometimes lost.

I learn to fly without them.
I know my path without guides.

It is perhaps a small path of simple desires.
But, it is mine.  It is what I can choose to be.

It is who I choose to be.

By Huh Chuh @ huhchuh@yahoo.com © April 2002