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Office Prayer — Once you Enter your Office

Office Prayer

Office Prayer

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I cannot accept, and the wisdom to hide the bodies of those people I had to kill today because they pissed me off. Also, help me to be careful of the toes I step on today, as they may be connected to the ass that I may have to kiss tomorrow.

No other choice but to sail alone

This is a good boat

This is a good boat


I like this poem:

I thought my sail was straight enough
for you to get the perfect amount
of wind to share the sea

But you instead jumped off
The boat to swim to the dock
Which was not far off

And I sail alone now
With no one to share with the sea
That’s how it will be,
Alone with the sea


Do you like it? I like another one too:

When I close my eyes I can still feel the swaying.
Side to side, back and forth,
constantly tilting one way or the other.
My mind is still standing on sea legs.

It’s funny how much faster we adapt on the outside.

When I first stepped on that boat,
I didn’t know where my point B was exactly.
Only that my point A was a place I couldn’t handle anymore.
So I took on the sun and salt.
Before long my skin was a cocoa bean.
My hair waved with the water.
My fingers and toes grew calloused but quick.
I’d traded in “street rat” for “sea urchin”.

You could see for miles on that floating piece of heaven.

Something happened out there, though I’m not sure what.
I didn’t get off at the first dock. Or the second, or the third.
I’d lost count after awhile. The sea was my home.
I could fill a night with talks of trade winds.
I thought I’d made a home out of misfits and maps.

My mind hasn’t quite caught up yet.

It doesn’t understand why I left.
One day we stopped, and I just started walking.
Sand, grass, and dirt replacing soft worn wood.
The forest draped down around me in an eerie green embrace.

I knew there was no turning back.

I still have skin like cocoa beans, though it very rarely burns.
My hair still waves like the beautiful pacific,
but it’s become decorated with flowers and leaves.
My hands and feet remain calloused,
but now they are stained with berry juice, and tree sap.

Digging my toes into the earth, I wait for my mind to meet up with me.