Tag Archives: acceptance

Lost Sunday

Go away.
He sat in the back seat using his hands as a rosary
praying to holy mother Rosemary his sin not be discovered.
The violation of my air space undetected by his stealth
suddenly had air raid sirens blaring loudly,

“HOW DARE YOU?!” upon my radar screen
while I drove away and prayed the guards were adept.

I really dig

I really dig that when I open up my blog reader

I find people-y readers lurking about, liking this or that.

I really dig that when I peer back through the shop window

the readers grunt, groan, lust, hug, love and hate like I do.

I really dig that when I peer through the looking glass

I don’t find my readers slumped sleeping in side-chairs.

I really dig that they poke fingers to keys while:

drinking coffee

popping pills

drinking bourbon

honoring artists

dancing with desires for origami people on paper they will print.

I really dig that the people I don’t know by face

stare back at me as we travel, passing on our reader’s train.

I really dig when we arrive at the same destination of personal truth.

Because that’s when the shit gets real.

Well then, here we are

Last Friday I had surgery on my ankle to fix chronic pain that I incurred when my body decided it would be a great idea to not only enlarge my foot nerve, but attach it to the major artery running through said foot. So whenever I would step, extend, or use my foot, I was in constant pain. However, after the surgery, I feel so much better that I’ve been tempted to overdo it a bit because I can’t believe how much better I feel. Although I have irritation from the surgery site and some pretty impressive stitches, the pain level is more at a pinch instead of a cut-my-foot-off-for-the-love-of-Pete!

But I’m back and rolling again.

My friend posed the question: What if someone said “I love you” and you never heard it? It inspired the following poem entitled Rejected Love.

desertoasis

I’ve been told “I love you” in a million different ways

By thousands of different mouths promising devotion

In actions and in words designed to set my heart ablaze

With alchemic bumbling, “Drink this Number 9 potion.”

But the spells they cast upon my heart break up before they land

Their intentions not as holy as the unguarded that you proffered

In the secret place you’ve discovered, my oasis in the sand

While you accepted my treasure trove, they could not be bothered.