If I've Learned Anything Over The Years

I got into my first kitchen by a graceful, beautifully, poetically written mistake.
I never knew what I wanted to do for a living, let alone I sure as hell didn't feel like growing up
And facing such a challenge. Admit it, it's kind of scary to think about isn't it?
My first kitchen consisted of me dabbling with a heroin problem, 5 dudes living in a 2 bedroom apartment, yet we all worked together.
One Lead Cook (prodigally at least), one prep guy, a server, a doorman/host, a good friend, and me.

I thought I knew what family meant, but you never really see it until you work in a kitchen, and a good one.
I could tell my immediate family about a special I ran at work that sold out
They wouldn't be able to feel what my heart feels
I could tell them I have this awesome kid who is a lost and confused dishwasher who wants more
They can't see his drive through my eyes
Even if it's not related to the industry at all, for all I know he really wants to be an aviation mechanic, but he knows if he busts his ass...he'll get his chance

For the first time in a long time, too long to be honest, I'm proud of where I work
I'm proud to sling plates into the pass and watch them fly away merrily by the waitrons
Who, some of, might actually loose the nickname of waitron, some won't
The Civil War hostility between the daytime and nighttime kitchen staff
The constant moaning from my right hand man,the constant talks of pissing, moaning, beating off won't change shit
Let's keep doing what we do, and let it shine
I can walk away from a nights work knowing I gave it my all, and hang my chin high with pride
Monkey see, monkey do is your typical line cook
Monkey see, monkey do, monkey loves what he does...that's me

There is a fine line between waitrons and cooks, but when a waitron offers to jump on the line with you awaiting orders?
I can't describe family anymore in any words better spoken.

Untitled Number 2

Sometimes it takes not working in your field
to finally find your passion, your dream, your livelihood
Simple chords, simple whistles through your teeth
with pursed lips, blowing air to make the sounds

A complicated fear that is an on going irrational fear
But is irrational?
I think not, for fear is what drives us
fear on some level moves us, motivates us, pushes us

My biggest fear?
I have plenty of skeletons in the closet
They awaken me every morning, and haunt me every night
They, like me, like us, wait patiently for something to happen

It's all about the fire inside us that makes us move
Makes us live, breathe
I'm trying to swallow this all down
But a pill is hard to swallow when it's a feeling you don't want

Understatement

It could be the random heartbeat of faith,
It could be the something is honestly wrong
I saw eyes tonight, amazing eyes
Soft, succulent, mesmerizing
In the end?

I can't find the truth in them
The truth in his
Body language is non-existent
A tongue gives the verbal truth
While the eyes reveal the story
Behind the blinders

Past the language, of tongue, and of body
The hands, the extension of a mind
The eyes, an extension of the soul
Both have ways of touching a body
A friend lost, a story gained

Truth? Is but of a memory
A tongue speaking words
A pair of eyes speaking
A mouth moving with crimson lips
Giving nothing more than an explanation

A scent, a smell, a feeling...
A feeling of belonging, a feeling of distraught
The body commits acts of lies
Deceit
A body is formed

The moon against the starry sky is a new
Dark, present, but not quite alive
Still shines a path
To the wreckage we create