Paul J Penton – Songwriter

Patience is a virtue, jealousy’s a curse and pregnancy’s worse- according to my high school recollections. For some reason  I see patience being smeared all over a problem, like axle grease or butter on hot toast. A knife dips into a yellow container and a big glob of it comes out on the end of the shining stainless steel and gets smeared over everything. These days in the age of computers and technology trauma, one can either waste ones energy on anger- patience’s evil twin – or indulge in a Buddhist chant on the inside – I choose the latter, though every now and then I think anger is worthwhile, a blast of the trumpet, a shout from the knock off whistle at the factory of ideas, where the workers have been hard at it making jars of patience for us to dip into later. They’ve taken small breaks in ’smoko’ rooms, the air choking with the smell of quickly puffed cigarettes, before it’s back to the place in line, securing the jars or delivering the dollops of goo that are patience. 

I eat from the jar of patience for breakfast, lunch and afternoon tea and have a bit with dinner, because I WANT EVERYTHING NOW, but I have adapted to the inner screaming Ninja and learned to breathe-in and breathe out deeply. To focus on the picture outside my imaginings and to say here’s another day in the jigsaw I’m making. patiently, knowing that the picture is forming and becoming clearer all the time. Edging closer and closer- a championship chess player, a dominoes expert, a card carrying poker super sleuth, sitting behind the green felt, turning  the plastic chips between forefingers while assaying the state of the cards before the ‘river’, the final card, check, raise or bet?