January 19, 2010
It was the kind of morning when nothing really matters. It was sort of like some of those radio show for a small, but appreciative demographic. Relaxing without any challenges and each little thing seemed to make no difference at all. This didn’t stop me from moving my feet and opening my mouth, the only problem is that I had nowhere I wanted to go and nothing that I wanted to say so I sat back down and kept silent.
It was the kind of afternoon when nothing really matters. It was sort of like some of those television show for fans of the golden age of comedy. Entertaining without any challenges and every now and then something profound would happen. The sun was set as it should be and the trees moved as lightly as they should. The sounds of the insects and the birds were right on cue. I pulled up my knees sat back and kept silent.
It was the kind of night when nothing really matters. It was sort of like some of those movies that they used to make for our parents and our parents’ parents. Enlightening because it was what they wanted and it was about what they knew and although that may not be all that much or all that great it was just enough. The reels unrolled for me that night as they had been all day. I laid on my side onto my hands and kept silent.
January 18, 2010
I noticed it from across the aisle. There stood a pristine animal, very small, but proud nonetheless. It is sleek with a shine, bright red, like a fire engine or a sports car. I didn’t want to stare, but I couldn’t help myself. The creature is simply magnificent. It is so small and equally exquisite. I want to reach out and pick it up, but I thought better of it.
I think it realizes that I am staring at it and before I can avert my eyes. But suddenly, I become aware of the smallest detail that I did not notice before. What with those many diamonds draped upon those floppy ears I am not surprised that I didn’t notice the gold lame’ bow tied to its tail. It is displayed so proudly that I should chastise myself for overlooking such a profound piece of decoration.
Then all of a sudden I realize that something was now staring at me. I pull back from my admiration of this wonderful creature’s adorned backside and catch sight of its astounding eyes. It looks at me in quiet acceptance. It offers a slight smile of approval in my admiration of its total being. A sublime contentment leaves its multi-faceted emerald eyes and pierces my core. I want to turn away, but the tranquility of its gaze creates a peace so deep within me that I humbly wait until it releases me.
January 17, 2010
Let’s just say that I have something very important that I need to write about. First, there is something that I need to get off my chest. I’ve done absolutely no research beyond that which reinforces or echoes my own gut feeling. And this gut feeling is based entirely upon a theory or idea that was handed to me, ever so carefully over the span of my formative years by my well intentioned, but not necessarily adequately informed mother and father. I do not question certain things and this is one of those things. There are just some things that I know to be true and this is one of those things. There are some things that just need to be said. This is one of those things.
Let’s just say that I have something very important that I need to write about. Second, I need to postulate a ton of platitudes and divisive euphemisms. Don’t worry; I will call people out by name. I will read what others have said and will rearrange some words. I will use a thesaurus and write my own exact version of what they said. I will do this because it needs to be done. I will say what needs to be said and I will say by using their names. I remember what I was taught and I know that it is true, because I do not question that which raised me and that which protects me. I am brave and I am loud and I speak for me.
I will not ask questions. I will not look you in the eyes. I will not listen to you. I will not be prepared. I will not respect. I will not reinforce. I will not concede. I will exacerbate, I will hyperbolize, I will exaggerate. I will add, pretend, employ, manipulate, misquote, mispronounce, reduce… the list goes on. I will do whatever it takes and write whatever I want to because I am free and I am right. 
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: Childhood, free verse, memory, poem, Retreat
January 16, 2010
A slow retreat that occurs over half a lifetime can seam to make no difference what so ever until you realize just how far you’ve gone. An ebbing flow that pulls with a sluggish might at your heels, your elbows, hips and shoulder and the center of your mind. Everything that was once there is still there. Every memory you’ve ever had is still there. It all comes back to the same place. It is all there. All right there and it is available to us at any time, but only after we turn ourselves back.
A slow retreat that occurs over half a lifetime can make all the difference in the world when you realize that you are exactly who you thought you would be even when you never thought you’d be the person that you are. Every thing you’ve believed in and known to be a solid in admissible fact is just that. It rests in you and you will come back to it. You will return to that very same spot in your mind’s eye. It is all right there and its available to us at any time. Turn us back.
January 15, 2010
I’m there, I sit back, I tilt, I slide down, and fall on my back
That’s all right with me.
Up at angles, at twists, at turns, at jagged spiky points
All right above me.
This is the place, this is it, this is the spot to be on my back.
I’m all there with you.
Down at bends, and burning pains, spinning visions, eyes fogged.
It doesn’t matter with you.
There is the tree. Look up at the tree. It’s coming down.
It’s coming down.
Little pale pieces, shy away from me as I breathe.
It’s coming down.
Coming down.
You’re down the path ahead of me, right there in front of me.
Right there waiting.
Distorted by branches and by the wind, your back is facing me.
Waiting there for me.
Waiting. There.
January 14, 2010
I turned to the person next to me and stared for a long time. I wanted to see if I could make them uncomfortable by smiling too much. I wanted to see if I could put them at ease by talking too much. I wanted to see if I could make them do anything at all. After a while they got up and walked away without giving me the slightest bit of attention. I am not saying that I deserved anything more, but after all the work I put into generating a response, I was surprised, actually hurt that they just got up and left without tossing a scowl, leer or head shake in my direction. Clearly, I was not reaching this person.
I turned my attention to the person in front of me and started tapping them on the shoulder in groups of threes. I did this for ten groups, totaling thirty taps. They did not turn around. I grabbed both of their shoulders and started shaking them and they did not turn around. They were showing me the utmost contempt by showing incredible restraint. They would not allow themselves to be reached by me. I resorted by plucking at their ears, both of them, top and bottom. Finally as my fingers started to tire they person in front of me got up and left and just like the person next to me. They gave me nothing.
I flung myself back into my seat and exhaled audibly. I started breathing harder and the frustration was starting to realty get to me. It was at this point that someone leaned over and spoke to me in the most soothing of voices.
“Would you please stop that? I am trying to enjoy the day and you are making it very difficult for me to do so.”
“Oh.” I said in response.
After a pause they leaned away from me and exhaled a polite, content and satisfied.
“Thank you.”
January 13, 2010
Let it be known.
Waiting for the car to pass and it was hours at least let me tell you.
Now they even have stores like that just around the corner.
Occasions like these warrant pauses and considerations.
Let it be known: the cave in begins with you.
Watching for the boss around the corner doing nothing again.
Now they even put their friends in a box up on the shelf.
Times like these make for laziness and procrastinations.
Let it be known: the wash out begins with you.
Pacing the halls of a store with waiting room on every aisle.
Now they even pile the crates in corners behind the open door.
Names like these only confuse and dilute postulations.
Let it be known: the back up begins with you.
Building the set of appliance make shift upright stands tall.
Now they even lay themselves down in a tight ball of smoke.
Places like these help the rest of us face the amputations.
Let it be known: the break down begins with you.
Let it be known.
January 12, 2010
Same thing happened to him that happened to her.
He had all the experience and she the will.
He walks away wanting peace.
She wants revenge.
Ten years later and she is alive and he is dead.
He died fairly unknown and she leads the town.
He did all he could do, maybe more.
She fights on.
He had seen it day after day and enough was enough.
She had seen it only once and then she began.
On the edge everyday on the edge once.
She can do it.
He is gone, now on to her and what she does.
A case made for both sides.
You do to me; I would have done to you.
Now I can do to you before you do to me.
And you still can do it to me.
Just like you did before.
She wants revenge.
She fights on.
She can do it.
January 11, 2010
Turn around and you won’t see what you’re supposed to see.
Stand still and you’ll see whatever you want to see.
Who will pay, who can pay, who wants to pay, why pay?
We can get it here as the exchanges continue behind the door.
Everyone at the party knows what they want behind that door.
Will it open, who will open, when will it open, is it locked?
They accepted the offer and in the end felt like they had won.
They walked away knowing that they had lied and they had won.
I saw them, you saw them, they saw them and nobody won.
January 10, 2010
Three pieces of music. Each of them unique. All passion and pop.
Three musicians foot printing the paper
Three sessions of hard work
Three takes.
Trio
Three sheets of linen. Each of them the same. All tight and twill.
Three weavers painstaking the fabric
Three hours at the task
Three breaks
Trio
Three wishes at dawn. Each of them awry. All safe and taut.
Three movers developing a plan
Three breaths of air
Three clouds
Trio
