Wisdom and Courtesy

 We are all sitting around at the end of the day,

Or the start of morning, getting older, hopefully wiser,

And musing upon days past and those to come. 

 

Sunrise reveals all hidden by the night.

Light can only fall upon the soul that allows it.

I have pried myself upon on the altar of my mistakes.

 

My youth was too ignorant and prideful.

Even now, I wonder if I have truly learned anything.

I hold on to what I must and discard the rest.

 

I don’t blame you for letting me go.

Please allow me the same courtesy.

 

 

Unseen Landscape

Cheryl was lonely

She sat by herself at the diner

Her usual french toast breakfast

was as good as any other day

She finished and walked out 

to the parking lot to her white

Chrysler missing one hubcap

from the front drivers side

She drove home to her 

apartment and set down 

her bag She took off her shoes

and sat down on the comfy

overstuffed couch

She liked the way her body

would comfortably ease

into the cushions

She turned on the TV

and let it speak

It didn't matter what 

was on it all came

and went through her mind

Oftentimes she would 

begin to remember 

memories and dreams 

from younger days

and all the possibility

that was once ahead

Now so much of it 

could only be seen with

a backwards glance 

She closed her eyes

and began to breathe steadily

The sounds from the TV faded

into nothingness

She could see everything now

all at once 

Vastness was no before her

How lovely it was 

Present and Afterwards

What will be remembered 
once all memory has been exhausted
Will it be anything worth holding on to

Grow up and be a better man
Leave the bitterness in the past
Free yourself

As We Watch

We are watching ourselves grow older as if we
were watching this happen to someone else.
It is now. It is everyday. How can this be?
It is life and this is how it occurs.

It is not merely the passage of the days and
nights, it is the greying of the hair, the growth
of the paunch, lines in the face, and random
aches from simply standing.

When I look in the mirror I recognize my face
because it is much like the face I saw in there
yesterday. How different would it be to see my
face from ten or twenty years ago look back?

These are the day and nights of a lifetime.
The journey may feel so long but it is a speck
of light among a field of endless black. I am
searching in the darkness for you as well.

We have found each other and now share
this moment together. How good it is to not
be alone. To connect, to share words, to
remind ourselves of what could yet be.

Certainty

The night was growing weary and I asked
you to point me towards the dawn. It had 
yet to arrive but I knew it would arrive 
shortly. The death of night arrives slowly
in increments perceptible by gradual fading
of darkness across the sky. The lifting of 
black in the east and the birth of bird songs 
across the still air. Bodies lay in warmth 
until sleep releases it's comfortable hold. 
Dreams race towards resolution so sleepy
eyes can ponder meaning at their waking.
Tied to the wheel of life we go back and 
forth and back and forth until the dreams 
have been exhausted and the morning
bids departure from us. Until then, until 
then, we move as though immortality 
is but a certainty for us. 

Aging in reverse
Watching time become undone
Birth is the new death

Those Who Feast on Flesh

They want you when you are young and beautiful
But will discard you when life has left you wilted
Your beauty is a commodity they wish to possess

To serve their base desires is their only want 
Life is even-handed in it's cruelty 
Even they shall learn this fact

Carved Into Rock

Older, fatter, balder,
The fate of us all is hewn into rock
Visible for all to see
In every known and dead tongue
Belief in a pantheon of gods
Becomes another's mythology
We believe in our own wisdom
Yet often miss the glaring light
Of day blinding us in our mirror
This cruel life makes our youth
All too brief and beautiful
As we spend the rest of our lives
Chasing what is replenished
Without us

Recognition

A lifetime of fading beauty
I still recognize you
Despite what life has done
I could never forget
The brilliance in your eyes

Foolish solutions to existential problems. 

I was not wise in my youth
and as I grow gray
I wonder if I am growing
any wiser now.

Aging

My bones grow but have not broken.
My heart beats but has endured
enraptured irregularity.
My eyes can see but not without glass.
My hands grasp, hold, and caress,
but worry of aged frailty.
My memory expands as more
disappears into moth filled chambers
of experiences past.
My thoughts are incomplete
but desperate to find you.
They have.
They have.
They have.

I don't want to see your beauty fade 
and see you become an old waitress. 

In the Heart of Winter

The heart of Winter
is a good time to remember
the comfort of warmth,

both literal and figurative.
The heart of Winter
is a good time to remember

those we have lost and the
memories of them we hold
within, to carry us forward.

The heart of Winter
is a good time to give thanks
for the simple act of being.

The heart of Winter
is a good time to cross the
distances of space

and think of those who
would be at our side
if they could.

The heart of Winter
is the reminder we need,
after the leaves have fallen

and the branches are bare,
that our lives remain in season.
The heart of Winter

leaves me breathless at
the journey so far and
the journey yet remaining.

nothing new in the mirror

merely my face

aging on a daily basis

Mileage

A pair of handprints pressed into the glass
on the passenger side of the car-
smeared ever slightly,
a handmade Valentine's Day card faded
in a rarely touched nook,
a polaroid picture slipped between
scraped and scuffed cds,
accumulated ash and dirt
from driving miles
and miles with the windows
rolled down,
my youth draining
into the climbing numbers
of the odometer.
A car as weathered
as my mind.
It carries on as though
the check engine light
hasn't been staring at me
the last fifteen-thousand miles.

Mary

Mary, I have changed
and I worry that you won't
recognize me.

Keep your amber memories
locked away. I keep mine
hidden beneath the bed

in a box wrapped in tape.
If I ever need them
I know they are safe

from passing times.
Mary, why do I worry
about this? Mary,

I know it's just a common
concern of the aging
and aged. I'm not ready

to give them up. Have you
ever held amber up
to the sunlight?

Rice Rocket Racer

We were friends in a past-life.

Those years are tattered shards of yellowing

paper. Our drifting ambitions

and increasing silence,

both accidental and intentional.

The bride looks beautiful.

I can think of only a time or two

when you wore a suit of any kind.

Have we been so lost in our pursuits

that we have lost the need

for each other? 

The tropical breeze blows 

from the digital image

of that afternoon.

I recognize no one 

in those pictures except

for you. We are guilty 

of the same thing. 

Though I would say

it seems like things

have turned out well

for you, old friend.

Acceptance

It is hard for us to age


Our powers fade in a procession 


of loss. Lines cross skin


like new roads over fields. 


Eventually they become


boulevards and freeways.


Memory begins to fragment


if it is present at all.


Colors dull


no matter the prescription 


on the lenses.


This fading is a patina


gilding our lives


in measured increments.


Each prepares for the next. 


Each a necessary step


towards acceptance,


of loss,


of time, 


and ultimately-


a mutual fate


since time


immemorial.
______






Note: revised to current version on 7/7/12
2nd revision 7/16/12