The Gift

Memories are a beautiful place

I like to visit from time to time

to admire the view

Sunlight bursting through leaves

and ocean salt filling my nose

Present presence is a gift

I must give myself

however.

Now is the eternal gift.

Photo Album

Call it home

or whatever you like

looking through

fading photograph

memories

Eternal youth

frozen in amber

gleaming bright

Alive

so very

very alive

Pyrrhic

 The losses are as devastating as ever when I remember them. The loss of those you loved, whether to death or disinterest, never ceases to cause an ache in the flesh. How to move on? Slowly with measured steps. Treading as carefully as needed until the feet can move at a walk, and finally, at a run. Peaks and valleys that only I can remember and see. I chose to eschew words and let the tide of memory wash over me. It is as it should be. A story in chapters told word by word, sentence by sentence, until at last the thought is exhausted. 

Get up

get up

get up

get on 

with 

what

you need

to do

Grasp

My life is no longer my own.

I wish to be here for those I love.

I wish to be here for as long as I can manage.

I will fight to hold on to the gift

I will grasp it in my fists

I will  

Thursday Morning (February)

Taking a swig

from the green bottle

I've left it behind

Sparkling and clear

Flowing down my throat

I've fucked it up again

Yet you still forgive

I didn't mean it

to be this way

It's still happening

We've survived so far

A world caught in twilight

Moonlight drowning

the world in sleep

Waiting for embers

once again

Genesis

Are you there?

Are you ready to listen?

I have something for you.

You must be careful.

I need you to write this down

carefully. 

I mean it.

I know you're not ready

but this can't wait.

It won't wait.

This has to be now

or it will never come again.

In the beginning...

After Mary

A home you can never leave

A world that must be imagined

Lives caught in loops

Trim the fat from the meat

Save it like grandmother did

Cutting away

reveals the worth hidden

Use everything

Tell no one

Show them 

Honey Bee

How do you know

when to find me?

When to reach out

untethered

bound by 

invisible threads

and memories

Sailors

Sun collapsing into itself

Luminous and finite

Light has not gone

from this place

Beacons dot

the darkness

Sail home

Boundless

I hear myself within the sounds e c h o i n g through the Earth.

I am of the Earth when my fingers touch the leaves of the trees.

I am the son of a Mother with children in every possible form.

When I close my eyes and dream I become one with existence.

Boundless, 

                   infinite, 

                                 I travel beyond 

any imagined boundary.

In this Moment

It's too easy to be lost in the minutiae.

Pull back and look around 

for just a moment

I wonder from time to time

about the paths I considered as a younger man

I recall the desire to explore the possibilities 

of joining the priesthood 

when I was in junior high

 

Sitting at my desk writing

Listening to the worship music of

Turiyasangitananda

and eating a chocolate covered wafer

The stanzas are barely stanzas

and I don't care

What matters is now

Me here with myself

You here with me

This is how it will always be

It is how it has always been

All moments existing at once

Blessed Are The Stewards

You are blessed with time

You are blessed with life

Choose meaning for yourself

What has been told

What has been done

What have your eyes seen

Child of Earth

Child of God

Become the steward

Nonsense

It makes sense until it doesn't make sense

When it doesn't make sense 

you'll wonder why it's like that

and what to do about it

Then it happens again

and you're left wondering 

again and again 

at the whole of everything

and how it could possibly be like this

but you can't dwell on it

but your mind is tied to reason

and doesn't want to let this go

so on and on it goes

gaining speed inside your mind

until finally you throw 

your hands into the air

and let out an exasperated sigh

and go about your day

because there isn't much

to be done about it anyway

Oceans

There are no winds 

in our sails

yet still

we move

Don't pretend 

It doesn't suit your eyes

You tell the truth

through indirect means

Staring us in the face

looking back

meeting the gaze

Karma comes home 

to roost

Endless Finite

Everything is as true as we want it to be

Survive beyond the outer reaches of our infirmity 

Struggle bound to the marrow

Leave your bones unbroken

Tiredness Weariness seeps within

No time for surrendering  

Dig deeper Darling

Students of this twilight art

No masters among ourselves

Asking questions like Socrates did

If I were an albatross gliding 

upon invisible waves

I'd be content

in the endless finite

Make it obvious if you wish

Cloud it in black mists

Hide it whatever way

seems best

I'm tired

I've been tired

and it feels 

like an endless day

and night

of exhaustion

A marathon

with no beginning

middle or end

I hunker down

I try and wait it out

It must have 

greater patience

than I ever could

A Turning of Seasons

How slowly the world moved

as a child in the classroom

moments before the bell rang

freeing you for a season

Luxuriating in the days 

of your youth 

Freedom of the purest kind

Hiding and seeking 

Chasing each other

around the neighborhood

Cars in the street driving by

never bothering to slow

Be careful your mother said

One afternoon

a smear of crimson

on the asphalt

Summer turned to Fall

All the Angels in the Heavens

All the angels are looking down

watching over us

wondering where 

it all went so wrong

Their fates are their own

some of them say

We should intervene

and show them the way

say the others

Yes but they are so stubborn

and will rarely listen

say yet others

What is to be done?

They look towards the Father

and he looks back

in silence.

I can hear the voices down the hall. They are coming for me.

There is no more time for fear. This was unavoidable.

Now the inevitable must be faced. Hard rubber soles 

amplified on a stone floor. Murmurs. Measured pacing.

They have found the door. The furniture is barricading it.

I have moments. This is it. That's all there is to it. 

We are no better than who we were as a species several hundred years ago.

Our base nature is unchanged. Technology, shifts in culture, these are cosmetic 

differences that are merely new paint on old walls. 

Godly

I see you

I see the pictures of you

    smiling beautifully

    looking into the camera on your phone

You might be at home

    or at the park

    or shopping for groceries

You are squeezing your husband tight

Smiling

    that beautiful gleaming 

    white smile

Your children are beautiful

Happy

Laughing

Seeing the world in your eyes

Living that comfortable

suburban life

in a quiet neighborhood

with too many bored police

So Godly

So good

A saint by any other name

There's been a fly in your home

Your youth was a delight

You never had any doubt

    you would be a mother

It was all you ever wanted

You don't talk about politics

    but it's not for lack of interest

People wouldn't like who you support

They'd judge you

They would look down on you

They'd abhor the thought

    someone so good and kind

    could support such a man

Such a man

Godly

    isn't he

A strong man

A strong man standing up

    to speak for the common man

A strong man with simple words

    even a halfwit could understand

He's a good man

A good man

You're a good woman

A good mom

A good daughter

    even though your mother was a drunk

A good sister

A good friend

Godly

Goodly

You don't need to care 

    what anyone like me thinks of you

It doesn't matter to you

It doesn't change the happiness in your life

It doesn't matter what the mobs are doing

    what the mobs are thinking

    listening to such a good man

Such a Godly man

You let someone else's words speak for you

That your eyes are

OPEN

even though you're half blind

You're a good woman

A Godly woman

God loves you

He'll look after your family

The mobs will never be at your door

In your car

driving down the highway

waving the flag

honking the horn

letting the world know

you're a good woman

a Godly woman

and no one is going to convince you

otherwise

The flowers are forgetting 

what you told them 

to remember.

Days of Ringing Bells

Listening to silence

flow peacefully from lips

so used to speaking

of their rightness

and righteousness

Death and disorder

are reality

A ringing bell echoes

until a crack 

appears 

and tears it 

asunder

 If I couldn't change I'd be dead already

Days and months stolen from us 

A heist of the only thing of real value

History made

Decency laid waste

Drowned

I find myself at water's edge

in a city that is always drowning

Your reflection is in the water

though you have long left

I reach down and touch a stone

smoothed over from the tides

A familiar weight grasps 

my fingers

I hear whispers

and feel only wind

If This Is Now Then So Are We

Endlessly waiting for a day 

of blooms 

Caught in antiquated modes

My finger cracks at a joint

A sign of invisible distance

She is sleeping 

and I am listening

as I wait 

for the room to warm

Time passes and never ages

Perhaps merely an illusion

This moment is here

It is here now 

for you

Waiting for the moment

It never comes

until it does

and then

how does one know

The First

The fireworks have long since been silenced

A new day long turned to evening

New firsts become experience

I wonder what comes next

I wonder if it matters

Would I change anything

if I knew the future

Would I remain here

waiting for a sign

Call Her

It's later afternoon and light is a fading haze. I enter the phone booth to make a call. The receiver catches my eyes. Someone has scrawled on it in marker "Call her and tell her you love her". Odd. I suppose the phone is right. Maybe I should. But how could she not already know? Have all the kisses and love not been enough? Is another reminder needed? Yes. And yes and yes and yes and yes. Fine. I'm not doing it because it told me to, I'm doing it because I am choosing to. Stupid phone. The coins begin to drop down the slot and hit with a clink. I dial the number and hear a ring. A car jumps the curb, grazes the edge of the booth and slams into the wall of the building just behind. The receiver hangs. A confused voice says, "Hello? Hello?"

Raise the dead

and realize

you're only 

raising

yourself

No Stranger

A cup of coffee first thing after waking

A dream with an estranged friend

the two of us walking

talking through an evening

rediscovering what we had set aside

The morning air leaves the branches

shivering like skeletal bodies 

What doors open at first light

How long do they remain open

Who passes through

What strangers come to you

Afterbloom

Caught in so much wonder

Beauty holds eyes captive

Seizes the mind-

enslaves it

Pupils dilate-

constrict

Memory grasps

relentlessly

Petals land 

silently

The Day After

What survives 

is always the best of us 

not tied to a body

but to who we were

what we did

what we stood for

Suspended

suspended in starry darkness

winter breathes upon the moon

we huddle around warmth

soon dreaming

of blossoming flowers

Flickering Light

 Alice is dying at home.

Her daughter is doing her best to care for her.

Alice is 93 years old.

She hasn't spoken in a few days

and hasn't been eating or drinking.

Her daughter says it's just a matter of time. 

The same is true of all of us.

The day after Christmas

of a very hard year 

is no easier than the others.

The light flickers in the bulb

and the one next to it is burnt out.

Holding on, holding on, the light

is holding on, holding on.

Gaze

Hidden histories of old conversations

sprinkled with tokens of affection

Pictures from favorite places

Smiles into lens' of unknown futures

that have become the past

more quickly than we could have known

On a night where ghosts visit

I have found mine 

looking into my eyes

Transfiguration

Printed

Erased

New meaning

Old words 

Bad Business

Night crept into my blood
Overwhelmed me
Woke up wondering
where my memories
had gone

Experience

Is there a joy greater than watching children
of your own blood laughing and playing
in the early years of their lives?

Unencumbered joy. Happiness untainted
by any worldly concern.

Sometimes I wish I were these children.
Wishing I were freed of the burden of being,
the burden of knowledge.

These children will cease to be children one
day and I will mourn the passing of their
innocence into that of worldly knowledge.

I did not know, did not understand when
my change into experience occurred.
Am I still the child I feel in ancient memory?

At times, I do not feel the weight of my
years and experience. At other times
it weighs me to the sea-floor.

This late summer day overwhelms us
with it's heaving embrace.

It is good to be alive and feel this warmth.
The sweat of life. The passion.

Hold me tonight.

Final Scarcity

My old memories will be of little use to you in your search for water.
Even now, after all these years, it's still hard for me to fathom how far
we have fallen in my life. Water was so plentiful as to be absurd. You
could open a faucet in your home and it would pour right out, as if that
is how things had always been in human history. We would buy plastic
bottles filled with water, we'd fill portable containers with it, we would
bathe in it any time we felt the urge to be clean. It was always there
until it wasn't. Everything fell into chaos once supplies became scarce.
There was so much suffering and death. To die of thirst is the most
excruciating sort of death. Men, women, children, all condemned to die
due to lack of a basic need. The rich and powerful gloated for some
time until their stores began to run dry. In the end, their wealth and
power were nothing without water. It was then that what little remained
of civilization collapsed. Now, water is life. Water is more valuable
than diamonds, gold, or oil, ever were. This world is bathed in thirst.
Some say our world is dying. I say that it is not. We are dying. The
world will be fine once it has rid itself of us. Perhaps that has been the
plan all along. Soon there will be none like me left who remember
the old world and the hubris of our decadence. Only those born in this
time of endless thirst will remain, and the old world will be reduced
to stories and fairy tales that will scarcely be believed. What ever did
we do to deserve such a fleeting paradise? Even my memory has begun
to fail me. I wonder at times how much of the past was ever real.
All of it, I think. Then doubt is cast. We could never have been so
foolish. Yet, foolishness is always in overabundance. I grow tired.
I want to close these old eyes and dream of water flowing over my
body without any thought of it ever eliding into scarcity.

The Knock

Cool morning warming by the minute

Sun gathering it's strength

Cars leaving driveways

and gathering on clogged freeways

A pot of coffee brewing in the kitchen

Don't leave here

Don't leave home

Stay here

Stay safe 

from an uncertain world

Can we do this indefinitely?

The world will come

knocking

August

Blazing days of summer's fury
Nights covered in sweat
even under the gaze
of an oscillating fan

Did the child once known as Octavian
ever think of adopting a new name
Could he have ever guessed
at the events that gave rise
to the first among equals
as he was fond of saying

Many centuries and empires later
and his name is still spoken
Remembered in the glorious days
of warmth before the gradual chill
of fall resumes it's touch on our skin

The world changes 

with or without us

Do we swim

with the current

or do we fight it

Solving for X

Living in the known world
there is much left to discover
that no one talks about
because it is assumed
we have removed the
quantity of X that needs
to be solved for

Think of the world
from the perspective
of a child and you can see
that there is still much left
unknown

Watching the waves
from the sand
I can only imagine
what awaits mere feet
from where I stand

The Fear

There was fear in all our hearts when the lights went out
Darkness fell and stayed with us for days weeks months
that we no longer knew if light would ever return to us
We adjusted to the absence of light as best we could
Many nights or at least I assumed were nights were rest
less I could only sleep in fits and bursts Uninterrupted
rest was something that felt as much a fading memory
as the Sun at high noon Heat too became rarer with the
passing of time Every day felt colder When the rains
began to fall it felt as though chilled liquid glass were
pelting the world What had we done to deserve a cold
world without light We became sicker more often and
crops began to wither and die Our people began to die
in greater numbers and we were no closer to knowing
the cause of this profound absence One day while in
the brief arms of rest I was startled awake by a young
boy who began running through the camp yelling for
everyone to look up Heads began to turn upward to
the towering darkness that had been lording over us
In the distant horizon light began to emerge piercing
through this night It grew more and more powerful
until at last the sky was filled by nothing but light

mind the gap

Nothing is wrong
Everything is fine
The sun is shining
The waves are crashing
The birds flit between branches
their songs filling the air
Yet I sit here alone
separated from you
with a continent
between us

You Get Used

To The Pain

Of Being

Disappointed

Bored beneathe the bough of summer
Breathing in time
to a rhythm older than life
Clarity arrives without notice
Call it understanding
Call it whatever you wish
but it has arrived
and it will always
be there
like an ancient
rhythm

First Day of Summer

A beer and a whiskey
followed by a bummed cigarette
Slow pulls off all of them
Voices from the television
as the game goes into the last inning
and the batter is at a full count
Hoping the other team
won't make it's comeback complete
Ball connects to bat
and is driven deep to right field
A glove catches it
and the game is over
Dave and Moni are dating now
Couldn't be happier for them
Another beer
Another whiskey
My life coming back to me
Memories flooding
overwhelming me
I put out the cigarette
in an empty cup
A new cold bottle
reaches my lips
Old familiar places
I've been trying to leave
Here I am again
Keeping the world at bay
Trying to keep going
long enough to change things
waiting for sunrise
on the first day of summer