Ronald Kok, Self portrait on color diffusing paper, pen and markers, 2017
There is very little of the “Christmas Spirit” in this but a whole lot of real. The season can amplify the battle each of us fights inside. I wrote a psalm about that battle, and the one who won’t leave me in spite of it all, a couple of days ago. Here it is:
At Home
Homeless at home in my heart
Stubbornly throwing buckets of Hope
On my hopelessness
I can’t seem to shake you
No matter how far I drift
In the current
Dragged along with the weight
Of failures
Regrets
Anger
This dark country closes in,
Suffocates me
My days are sometimes filled with
Night
Nights filled with pain,
Restlessly resting
I wonder if I’m fading,
Maybe disappearing
A shallow shell that once seemed full
Dreams no longer exist even
In dreams
My heart punctured, lacerated,
Beat up
I want to let go
I want you to let go
But you won’t
Dammit, you won’t
A dark heart doesn’t put you off
Embracer of failures,
Wrecks
And fools
You put flesh on bleached bones
Warmth washing over the icy gaze
Hope
How is it possible?
How can you be Hope
Always
Undefeated
You are ignored but
Never offended
You are treated like shit
But never despair
Despair looks like a tin shack
Next to your skyscraper of
Hope
You could dwell there,
It’s a perfect fit for you
But instead you bed down in squalor
At home in my heart
-Ronald Kok
December 20, 2017
right-or-ron 
I’m hoping the writing and visual art is cathartic. You’re not alone brother.
Your psalm reminds me of some of David’s.
“I’m tired of all this—so tired. My bed has been floating forty days and nights On the flood of my tears. My mattress is soaked, soggy with tears. The sockets of my eyes are black holes; nearly blind, I squint and grope.”
Psalm 6:6-7 MSG
Or words from Bob:
I’m going out of my mind, oh,
With a pain that stops and starts
Like a corkscrew to my heart
Ever since we’ve been apart
I heard him comment on people’s appreciation of this song and the album, “I don’t know how someone can get pleasure out of so much pain”.
I don’t think it’s please as much as connecting with a shared experience. And, the shared experience offers hope.
Praying that Hope continues to take root in the squalor of the tin shack.
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Thanks, Greg. Part of this year has been finding the nerve to put stuff like this out there. The reality is that we all deal with incredibly deep shit in our brains and spirits. It isn’t always fun to live in your own brain. But it is great when people reach out and let you know that you’re not alone, that you’re not (completely) nuts. I greatly appreciate your encouraging words and, even more so,, your presence – albeit virtual. I’ve no doubt about your heart. Peace, brother.
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Your words are rich Ron. Thanks for sharing!
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