he is one of those who ponders
while others dare to live,
who dreams of embraces
he will surely never know
when anyone cares to listen
he strives to facilitate thought
while his own vague needs
remain ever undefined
he has learned how to say
“yes” and “of course”
and “you certainly should”
but little else besides
he accepts the role he plays
obedient to the whims
of their insouciant loves
fed by his solicitous heart
and yet he must confess
these days are not so pointless
so long as those who speak
have something more to say
he will listen in eager attitude
conveying all the concern
their somewhat aggrieved souls
may choose to perceive
he does know, after all
that there is comfort yet
in remaining such a man
of exceptional convenience
Salt Lake City 21 Feb 2013
George Ellington 
On some levels I wonder if it is I that you speak of. Love the write.
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Many thanks. I had to assume that these words–these sentiments–would seem familiar to some.
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Really struck a chord and it was beautifully worded
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Hello, I really love your page and the poetry you write! I wanted to inform you that I nominated you for the Liebster blogger award. You can choose to accept it and share, or just take it as a compliment.
here’s the post.
http://lefloreinc.wordpress.com/2013/02/28/liebster-award/
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what a gross detail of an average person who just lives with convenience!
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Yes, living with convenience–living a convenient life–is so far from compelling. It becomes ever more difficult to take the next step.
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Wow! Amazing portrait of a common being. Nice work, George. 🙂
Rahul
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Thank you, Rahul. And well done on your short film. Congratulations. Very well done.
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Well…come what may…being the constant in the lives of those around, may not be ‘exciting’ but, it is important beyond excitement and more noticeable in the impression on their hearts. It is, a solid deep life of trust.
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If that were only true, RL. I must agree with you, yes, but sometimes the impression we make on the hearts of others is vague indeed. Nearly impossible to tell. I am no saint, but a selfish man. I am a teacher. I spend my days working, studying, trying to help others achieve their goals. They smile at this. And laugh. We work hard together. They say kind things and I am so happy to see them grow into their new lives. And at the end of the day, they return to those lives, to their families, to the people who really matter to them. While I return home to four walls crowded with books, and words that fill my thoughts. And fantasies of a very different life.
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I am sorry and realized some time ago the realities of your present life… However… I find it interesting…those of us with lives so packed with people crave a little solitude. Those with solitude crave less of it…
Life feels like a balancing act and a strain of all worlds converging and colliding and at every turn, we feel frustration and pain. Only small precious moments of calm.
For instance, not kidding, my son is wrapped about my neck as I type this.
My daughter is pretending she is visiting from Africa, which is ‘across the street’ … And I’m dying to write and need to steal time for it.
All things come with time and patience and perseverance. And I hope you do find what you seek, for surely, another seeks you, your mind and attention and company. The trick is… Do you admire them as fondly. And life has a way, of twisting that at times too.
But. I have faith that unselfishness leads to the best gifts to, ourselves.
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Convenient?..No…Needed..yes…appreciated…yes…admired…YES! 🙂
I love your humble heart, George ~
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Thank you so much, Tonia. I wish I could be more humble. And more serene. My heart beats too much these days, while I struggle to calm it.
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So enjoyed this, George….a poem of heart felt by anyone who nurtures. I think the cure is in the smaller acts of alertness and creativity, informed only by the moment. And the wilder abandon of nurturing ourselves.
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So well said, J.H. And keenly felt. There are moments in this journey–moments of utter clarity when the mind grows very calm and the heart expands so readily. Then am I grateful. Then I understand. And those smaller acts take on such natural relevance. Sometimes building upon each other, sometimes simply in and of themselves. Sincere moments. Simple sincere moments. I hold them close.
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I am late to the party here, George, but I must say you are far from convenient and a blessing to my life. I wish you had more to go home to than books, my friend.
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Susan, I am sorry for responding so late to this. I am so grateful for your presence here and your ever encouraging words. I too feel blessed to be able to come here, read your writing, and explore the thoughts and feelings that your words inspire in me. Thank you, my friend.
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You have embraced your words, and your voice is heard, George. The mystery of humans—I need the answer too. A good heart is occupied beneath all this, and this creation is far more better than plastic obedience. Unfolding moments are working through their hours, and to live, to see, the person is creating his choice. The same good heart would live, if revelation arrives after sharing a dialogue with others.
It is a masterpiece, priceless feelings, George.
Blessings and love.
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Blessings to you, my dear friend. Such gentle kindness you convey. And I know you, too, understand the dangers of, as you say, “plastic obedience.” I hope you are constructing your path of honest intent and unadorned earth. May the stones and trees and grasses green ever guide your steps.
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