Category Archives: Observations

Don’t Go

The match burst unexpectedly into a flame
The tender tinder caught
An ignition of late-night discussions
That pursued verbal intercourse
Vulnerability exposed; naked
An incredible view from the mountain
Where true north was marked on our compass
The heat and warmth of intention
Splayed out in tranquility and mutual reliance
Invited to an adventure of a lifetime
We blazed new trails through trials
But apathetic time broke the compass
And people do what makes sense to them
The safe place became a wasn’t
And a not now, not ever.
The allure got eaten by silence
When all I wanted to hear was
“Don’t go.”

Nancy’s Earworm

I had a last minute cancellation this afternoon which allowed me to spend time with a woman I met in the course of my work. We had a grand conversation. She asked me if I ever had a song stuck in my head that I just couldn’t get rid of.

“Why yes, that’s called an earworm.” I replied.

She laughed joyously.

“What song do you have stuck in your head?” I prodded.

She started singing. I asked her permission to record her to which she agreed. This is her singing and my video representation of her version of the song: When I Get Too Old To Dream.

Homeostasis

Survival mode stepped to the side
Allowing an informal reprieve from chaos
An acknowledgement of mutual security
The stability that came to dinner
Pulled up a chair and feasted gluttonously
On a childhood fantasy for totemic inclusion
Seized the steadfastness of a kinship
Situated in a sprawled right relationship
Ladling the gravy of laughter over
Legendary stories of affinity
A communion of flavorful moments
Savored in a homemade assurance of loyalty
With an abundance of whipped cream

A Pilgrimage

Death offers the warm embrace of peace
A loving homage to the newly deceased
Life used to stay busy; feel overly productive
The spiral of drowsing is overwhelmingly seductive
No more errands or things to do
No more arguments of personal truth
With warmest lust on the coldest skin
An allegiance unfurls with the shifting winds
What was once taken for granted truly is sated
The breath comes no more from the body related
And yet as a witness to the dearly departed
A journey, a pilgrimage, a trail never charted
Speculation like specters gather for court
Dressed in saint’s clothing, suspended transport
the breathing world is holding hands with Death
leaving lamentations from the loved ones bereft

Blooming Pebbles

Each breath is a step towards Death

Yet we take for granted the breath

not the inevitable destination.

Remembering to breathe is acknowledging life

It is the act of inflating our lungs

with air that has formed words

of love

of hate

of anger and grief

Exhaling out our life’s resistance

to succumb to a fate

written finitely on the pebble

which blooms as our gravestones

in our final hour of mortal coil.

Rejuvenation

A walk in the wild wood timber
When the leaves have all blown down
The wintery wind whips omens
Of the King who’s lost his crown
No longer sanctified or honored
Or otherwise enshrined
The gloom embraces obscurity
Elemental slumber consigned
Deep beneath the gloaming soil
The spark of life remains
Guided by the ancient ways
A labor of growing pains
For when the woods again awaken
And the leaves return to green
The King will once again be born
His life, again, be seen

Behind the Blinders

To the face I did not know
The one whose name is clandestine
Spoken whispers, just below hearing
Your breath did not share my space
I never knew your laughter
Nor could I recognize your voice
Your eyes and mine have never met
But I grieve the loss of you.
The you were human, like me.
The you who had happiness and sorrow
The you who was quiet or loud
The you who was every bit as breathing as I am
The you who was every bit as worthy of love
The you who was every bit as alive
You were invaluable to the fabric of the Universe
I stand as witness that you existed
I attest to your right to dignity as a human being
May love now surround you with grace and mercy.

Love Showed Up

When I have been in darkest pain
Feeling I could not hope again
Love showed up.
When I felt lost and overwhelmed
Riding grief on a boat unhelmed
Love showed up.
When I’d thought my demon’s vanquished
But they roared to life, causing anguish
Love showed up.
It didn’t try to change my pain
But gently whispered, “Try again.”
Love showed up.
It didn’t try to change my trouble
It helped me to clean up the rubble
Love showed up.
It helped me navigate which way to travel
Clothing myself in threads unraveled
Love showed up.
Its compass pointed to my true north
Showing me how to sally forth
Love showed up.
It walked beside me on meandering paths
Teaching forgiveness for my past
Love showed up.

Widow’s Peak

She desires to be a widow

so bad that she can taste it

The casseroles and condolences

With open arms embraced it

She wears no widow’s weed

Nor tithed the widow’s Mite

With crocodile tears in her eyes

Their mourning her spotlight

When the flowers have all wilted

And the calls have all but eased

Will she then be grateful

That it was he deceased?

Note: This isn’t written about anyone in particular. It’s a what if.

Delusional

The devil came to my door

He rang the bell and cried

He lied that I was once adored

His chest puffed out with pride

His deception blackly oozed because

There is blood upon his hands

By his nature he’s embodied faux pas

In his hollowed-out grandstand

Convinced there is an audience

Still, he bows his head to pray

“No.” is nothing obvious

I refuse him the time of day

He invades my home with anger

Grief that should have long been spent

His recklessness is dangerous

But he simply won’t relent

His wounds are dark and oozing

His heart is arctic cold

He reminds me that he thinks of me

At least that’s what I’m told

His prayers remain unanswered

He leans on crutch and wit

His aura is all cancered

No blame will he remit