Gabe Redel's Blog: FRYING POTATOES BLOG, page 2

The Millennials

The Milennials
by Gabe Redel


We are told that Millennials are entitleists.
We say how low
their view of themselves is.
We agree that they are addicted to social media.
We enjoy pointing out
everything that they do wrong.

We need someone to take the blame
so that we look better
in our own mirrors?

But I say
the Millennials are a beautiful generation.
They entertain themselves
with photographs and one-liners.

They love it
when new technology proves them wrong.

They have taken a country
that has declined for generations
because of greed and power
and have thrived on growing the country
with what is small and inexpensive.

They are a special generation.
They are just like my generation.

They are human
and the only thing that’s changed from our generations
to their own is that
we have provided them with the tools
to do exactly what we did with our own lives
on a broader platform.

We craved popularity.
They crave popularity.
It took one to know one.

Everything I am but Better

Everything I am but Better
by Gabe Redel


I don’t know
if I am good enough for love.
If this thing
that everybody wants so ferociously
is worth the price,
then I might find that it is right for me.

Love is such a tight line to walk
that just one slip
and I know I will be sliced in half,
torn and bleeding from the accident.

I don’t see
the faults in myself.
It might be
that my faults are so great
that they are all I see
so I do not recognize them as traits
that shouldn’t be there.

Focus is not something
that I will keep
if I do not agree with her decisions.
I will lose my mind
and I will slip.

I have spent too many years
falling in love
with my own thoughts.

It is everything that I am
but better
that I know I need.
And that is not fair to her.

She would not be allowed
to be her own person.
She would have to be
what I want.

I need a time
to forget about myself.
I need her to make me want
to lose who I am
so that I can have what is worth the price.

I Wear A Mask

I Wear A Mask
by Gabe Redel


A mask is on my face
everywhere I go.
Some may say that hanging
such a heavy board
on my head is bad for my health,
but I still put it on each day I wake.

I do not know of a better way to live.
Once was a time that I believed
that being fake was something
that I did not wish to be.

I would avoid it at all costs.
But now I wake up in the morning
and think about the time of day
that I will need to put my mask
in my hands
and place it against my eyes and over my mouth.

At times,
I am scared that I will not be able
to lift it over my head
before I have to meet the people of the day.

It is a heavy piece of equipment,
but it is necessary to survive.

What would life be
if we did not need to wear a mask?
It may be that people would not have barriers.
We would not be separated
by skin and muscle and bone.
I would not have to ask so many questions.
I would not misunderstand.

This world, it would have to be perfect.
These dreams would have to be known by everybody.
My ideas would be your ideas
and your thoughts would be my thoughts
and I would not feel angry
and I would not feel the need to cover my sadness
and I would be just like you
in a way that we both would see clearly.

I would have nothing to hide.
I would not ever feel humiliated
or disagree with something that I should not
disagree with.

But that is impossible.
So I will wear my mask.
I will let it show you
that this world can be perfect.
It can be perfectly hidden
behind a small amount of time.
Enough time for what is imperfect
to be reshaped and rethought
and spoken in a way that you will understand.

New Time

New Time
by Gabe Redel


I’m having a hard time
seeing my favorite stars
from TV shows and bands
reminisce about their prime.

I see their faces today,
a little rounder and grayer,
next to who they were
when they made me smile the most
and I feel
like I’ve lost something.

The younger generations
do not adore Jerry Seinfeld
like I did.
They do not hurt
because Chester, Scott, and Chris
are no longer in this life.

But, of course, I enjoy
the youth.
I enjoy their enthusiasm
for the things
they have never seen
and the things
they have never done.

I would like to find
new heroes.
I would like to hold
the ones I love close
and enjoy what is bright with life today.

And I believe
it was the connection
that I had
with my family who was in the same room with me
that truly made my childhood heroes
hold tightest to my memories.

The passing of time
and the aging of those
we love
does not
and will not
truly pass from our thoughts
and our hearts.

But if we don’t wish
to be alone in our heads
we need to continue
to live as humans
were intended to live.

We are explorers.
We need to search
to find new stars
and new loves
and new loved ones
and new desires
that keep our speech fresh
and our courage alive.

Our minds do not travel
forward in time
if we are not able
to let go
of what we once had.

Hello, How Am I Doing

Hello, How Am I Doing
by Gabe Redel

If I talked to myself, face to face,
as if the present me walked into my life today,
I would judge him in every way possible.
I would examine myself as if I were on trial
as one who sees another for the first time.

And, because I can be somewhat arrogant,
I’m sure I would be pretty damn impressed with myself.
Unwarranted enthusiasm, of course, but on the other hand,
I know that I would also hate
much of what I said and how I acted.
Unwarranted criticism, no doubt,
but there is much in me that I would like to change.
There is, however, a chance that I would not need to change a lot.
I am not sure, and that’s why I would love
to see and hear myself as one who stands next to me.

If I were to talk to myself
in the future,
I would first see if I looked healthy.
I would then ask him
if he was feeling well.
I would want to know if his body
was falling apart like my dad’s body
had fallen apart.

Then I would let him speak.
I would let him tell me anything
that he saw fit,
and I know myself.
I would have much that I would want to say,
but I would only speak what was truly necessary
because I feel like
that I may not be qualified to give myself guidance.
So I would think about God
and decide if God would want me to have known more.

If I went back to the past,
I know exactly what I would say.
I would not tell myself to love others more,
because that had always been important to me.
I would not beg myself
to get a better education
so that I could be richer when I get back
to my timeline.
I would give the boy a hug,
and I would tell him that I loved him.
I would ask him if he needed any help.
And every question that he had,
I would do my best to answer it.

Rise to Weakness

Rise to Weakness
by Gabe Redel


In this sleep
there was peace.
It came after a day of focus
and thoughts that had strength.
Enough strength
to hold together
the hope that keeps one from losing his mind
on the broken road
that does not have a home.

Above the bed
on the other side
of the window,
the air was cool.
And in it, as well,
was peace.

A clear night.
Crisp.
As when the ground
is covered in frozen snow
and all the wilderness
is so clean
that the air tastes like ice
and the land
looks like
not one foot has ever touched it.

His rest was at an end.
The air was changing. His head
was changing.

Morning’s rise,
his conscience slowly woke with the light.
Aware he was waking,
weakness strolled toward his mind
and the dreams of his sleep broke
to the nightmares of the lost.

The strength that had been built
from moving toward a better place
was not there.

This morning he woke with weakness.
Hopelessness crushed him
as he came out of his sleep.
Helplessness broke him as he opened his eyes.
No plan.
No structure that he could think of
held him from being crushed.
He forgot that he had hope for what he did not have.
His thoughts drew on agony.
He remembered only that he did not have
what he needed so terribly to save his life
and he believed at this time that he
may never have it.
Change was impossible to him this morning.
Despair.
Sorrow.
Depression caved his heart.

But the day was soon to rise in full
and so was his mind.
He rolled from the sheets
and stepped toward the window
holding the sobs
in his open palms.

The light showed him where he was.
A new day and a call to the future
was still available to him
on this earth.

Strength—from where
he did not understand—
came back and held him upright
in the idea that his future was still a beautiful place.

This Photo 15 Years Ago

This Photo 15 Years Ago
by Gabe Redel


I remember seeing this photograph
many years ago.
It had a lot more to it
back then.
The person in this photograph, his clothes
are not the same.
His look was much different than the way it appears today.

His hair was wet
with moose.
His shirt flared with color.
The shirt almost had a 50s look to it,
but the shot was taken in the 90s.

On his neck
was a chain.
It was sterling silver
to match the chrome on the hotrod
he stood in front of.

When I looked at this photo
15 years ago,
yes,
it was much different than it is today.

I think I know what’s missing.
I believe I see what matters.
It isn’t the hair
that he no longer keeps slicked back.
It isn’t the stylish clothes
or the flashy metal he has around his neck.

It is what is behind that hair and those clothes.
When I looked at it back then
I knew why those things were there.
I felt them
and I could remember every thought
and every passion
behind them.

The shirt was because he knew sadness.
The hair was his energy
and enthusiasm for the future.
The chain was what masked
all the love he knew he needed
but did not know how to find.
The chrome was for the days
that he had spent praying
that this day was not the only one he would ever see.

The Mix of Chemicals

The Mix of Chemicals
by Gabe Redel


In this waterspout
was a mix of many chemicals.

When the gardener
would tip the spout
to pour the water over the soil,
she never knew
what might spring up.

Once an elephant grew right
out of the ground.
It jumped out of the dirt
and stamped down the road
almost colliding with a vehicle.

The gardener shook the spout
and swirled
the strange mix inside.
Exhaustion was in her eyes.

She didn’t always like
using the spout
because it was spontaneous,
but she knew that she had to use it.
She believed that if she worked with the spout enough
one day
it would begin to grow the right stuff.

A few years ago
she believed she had cracked
its wild streak.
When she poured the water over the soil,
she only saw positive growth,
but moments after
that growth
something combusted into a racketing band.
Trombones, trumpets, and guitars whaled away.
The musicians clamored down the street
until they were far out of earshot.

The day did come
when the spout
had found its balance.

No screaming jets flew from its water,
no hammering workers,
no splashing fish
slapping in the mud,
and not one explosion
lit up the sky.

Only strong, centered growth.
The gardener waited
on edge for a few minutes
just to make sure,
but it didn’t happen.
The spout had finally
cleaned itself up.

The gardener nodded her head
in approval.
She set the spout back
in its place
and looked one more time
at the fine work that she had done.

As she enjoyed her success
she could not help but to want
some of the craziness back.

She wanted randomness
and the surprises
that came with the strong mix
of different things
inside of her.

She felt happy now,
but happiness and being content
are only two of the things
she had during all those years of finding herself.

Man in a Chair

Man in a Chair
by Gabe Redel


In the center of the room
is a chair.
A light circle is illuminating it.
The walls have nothing on them.
It is bare, blank, not even hospitable
to a bug.

Every so often
a man will appear
seated in the chair.
He will be like the room.
Emotionless, expressionless,
blank to anybody who looked at him
if they even knew
that he was there.

Time for this man
passes slowly.
Every second is counted.
Every dream is noted.
His memories and experiences
are all lived completely, deeply,
as if he were living them
for the second time.

Thicken

Thicken
by Gabe Redel


In the world live memories
that most of us thought
we would never lose.
They are now gone
because we no longer have reason
to eat them.
We could not survive
on the wonderful things
that we had been.
Our bodies needed to thicken.
The soul of our minds
needed to harden.
Out of the cool blue
we grew much like a lighthouse.