Filtration of the Mind

by ZacharyWGilbert

A filter removes contamination, however, what is captured, has to eventually go somewhere….

filter-still-02

My mind, often seems like a forgotten mountain lake.  It is remote, isolated, and surrounded my thick pine trees.  Sometimes I let people dump trash in it.  Why do I do that?  It just rots and festers.  My thoughts tend to swim, like fish in the lake of brain.  They dart, dive, and bump into each other.  They feed on bits and pieces of what I read, what I watch, what I hear, and grow.  Sometimes, if the food is corrupt, they mutate.  A way out? My writhing army of thoughts, my deep chasm of slimy fish are about to escape.  A bar screen lies deep in the bottom mind.  The swirling water is dark, and algae sways in the shadows.  A fishy thought wiggles through a broken bar, it twists and flops down a dirty pipe underground.  It is hidden.  Big fish escape, and become words.

That is why, I installed a filter.

Ideas in their raw form, are barely palatable to most listeners.  In the past, the twisted fish of my mind would leap into the air, morph into words.   A splatter of emotional puss and guts would spray all over the ears and minds of my audience.  It air smelled, and people would become angry.  I found out, an unfiltered thought, that finds its way into words, is a dangerous thing.

My filter is online.  It holds a mass of coal and sand in a deep concrete pit.  I slows my speech and prevents unnecessary contaminants from making their way to my mouth.  As I think, and get tired, the filter plugs.  I get irritated.  My words become ambiguous and aggressive.  The filter is failing.  Then I stop my life.  I take five minutes, it is time for a backwash.  My minds lake is cut off.  I ask, my Creator to walk with me, to ride in the car with me.  Clean water, pushes up from under the grain.  Filth, and debris are lifted out of my filter.  But where should they go? The brine of my evil thoughts, the filter has stopped, are still there.  I could let the dirty water, go back up the pipeline and into the lake.  Then, my thoughts would feed, and grow.  They would become worse, stronger, and worst of all, more dangerous.  I give them to God.  I don’t understand why he would take them.  They are gross, and smelly.  But, he takes them every time.  Now, I don’t have to deal with heavy dark ‘fish guts’ thoughts anymore.  It is a good feeling.

Meanwhile, the fish, still swimming in my mind, are eating trash, and looking for a way out.

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert

 

Yes or NO

by ZacharyWGilbert

Wood shavings fall on the dusty floor,

“Say yes or no, it is darkness to say more.”

With a metal blade, pressing into soft wood,

“Explaining a lie, over and over does no good.”

 

I leave the wood shop, to the street made of stones,

“Do you love me?” I ache for you, from my heart to my bones!”

Her long brown hair, falls across her troubled smirk,

“I have a lot of love for you. Maybe that will work?”

 

The staccato’ed bite of a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ loses its tongue,

A storm of words swirls, like a broken bell being rung.

How do we find the truth, in answers that are pure?

A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ could very well be the cure.

 

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert

 

 

 

Lost Hugs

by ZacharyWGilbert

Don’t take this whole thing too personal,

but my emotions, are not quite, that versatile.

I have a 3 foot bubble, 3 meters may be better,

I don’t want, your breath, or the scratch of your sweater.

 

Hugs are powerful, I do believe that, to be true,

mother won’t hug me, so neither can you.

My kids run fast. They crash into an embrace.

In a ‘big ol daddy hug’, hurt and woe, soon displace.

 

I pick up the phone and dial mom’s number,

to tell tales, of life, and the stress I am under.

No answer.  I miss her voice, a hug for my heart.

A hug from a mother, gives hope a fresh start.

 

40 years, write lines upon my face,

I ache, and ache, for mothers warm embrace.

Decayed emotions, loose and dry under the yellow sun.

Truth seeps out. The black tales of my heart, now come.

 

My mother won’t hug me, in time, her story is lost,

Cold wind, blows over the river, while stones cover in moss.

A scratchy gray sweater, with a horse on it,  zipped under her breath.

Mother’s hugs, become empty shadows, soon after her death.

 

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert

Ten

by ZacharyWGilbert

There were ten of us girls waiting on the windy shore of the island.  We were certainly overdressed for a beach, but we were all waiting for a party.  We were all dressed like bridesmaids.  There was flowing baby blue fabric dancing around our shoulders.  Everyone’s hair was getting trashed by the wind.  Luckily, we all had our beauty bags, to ward off any abnormalities we would face.

The ground shook.  Behind the dock, blanketed under thick green vegetation, was an active volcano.  It had been rumbling and smoking for three days now.  I was glad all of us were leaving the island to go to a wedding.  I am too scared to stay here.  Another deep rumble under our feet.  The tide rippled, the sky grew darker.

The girls around me became more and more scared, and more and more agitated.  I pulled the invitation out of my bag.  It was a thick cream colored paper, it felt like think leather under my fingers.  Gold leaf letters stamped in cursive, read…

Wedding!

to be held,

on a summers evening,

(bring plenty of charge,

for your cell phones)

or, without you,

we’ll be leaving

I thought it was a very odd request.  I downloaded a several apps in preparation.  I bought and charged seven extra batteries.  Time seems to lose its teeth on the island, and the wedding party would likely show up, whenever.  Another rumble.  The girls were getting used to it by now, I guess.  They began laying in the sand of the beach, they looked like mermaids sunning themselves as the sun seemed to fall into the ocean.  They had their phones out and were playing games, and checking social medial.  We bathed in reddish orange light, and waited for the evening. The glow of cell phones, danced on the beach like fireflies deep into the night.  I burned through 3 batteries waiting.  Then I fell asleep.

I woke to the sound of shouting.  The wedding party had arrived.  There was a big boat anchored way out in the harbor.  Men in a row boat were yelling at all of us.  My phone showed 3:17 a.m. My 4th battery was at 7% charged when the bridegroom arrived with the bridal party.  I switched it quickly for a fresh one.  Several ushers yelled out that they needed to check our phones for some sort of confirmation to get into the boats.  The volcano bellowed a deeper rumble than what we had heard before.  5 of the girls began to scream, cry, and beg for extra batteries.  Their phones had run out of charge, and they weren’t going to be allowed on the boat.   5 of us had enough charge on our phones, we loaded into the row boats and then onto the ship.  The other girls, tried to wade out into the ocean, but were pushed back to the beach.  We watched the volcano explode into gray smoke and hot orange melted rock.  Like spilled honey, the beach was coated in seconds.  I saw a burning baby blue sash float in the air, and land in the white water in the wake of the ship.

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert

Water Your Thoughts

by ZacharyWGilbert

Water, the heavy universal solvent,

Only so much is fresh, so don’t waste all of it.

It magically falls from the sink, cold on my hand.

Cities rise, limbless metal trees in the sand.

 

Water may hold invisible vermin, who often infect and kill,

A suburban lawn, drinks clean safe water until it has its fill.

Mighty stone fountains, hidden from the thirsty and sick.

The entire world, has a thirst,  “A cool safe drink, quick!”

 

Water, in a storm may cause a cities devastation.

Children unhealthy, and swirling, in a dirty water situation.

Water.  Lost in a desert without it, a dry mouth, longing for a sip.

Soon, water and people, may need to rethink their relationship.

 

Copyright © 2017 Zachary W Gilbert