Evening Somnolence

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Chasing a moment 

An arc of an instant 

The fading light a fiery pyre

The day’s ending brilliant in its parting

 

Day 30. At last. An unplanned evening excursion through town gave us this gift. Taken behind my church where many of our town’s ancestors sleep.

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Between Certainty and Doubt

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Standing at the window she looked out at his car backing out of the drive

and wondered what she was saving her feelings for

She nearly said “I love you” the night before

He was clearly waiting for her confession

She couldn’t keep up

Her heart had been closed off for so long

She had forgotten the rules

Of course she loved him 

But the words dried up in her mouth before they could escape into the air

This affair was no practice session for the next one

She knew it in her gut and he did too

The angst and agony and the suffering

that comes with the human condition

pulled her away from the edge

of the one great leap into the blissful abyss

Would her fear of making him feel better

somehow be a loss that would make her feel worse?

 

Day 29. In the process of digging through an old trunk, I came across a yellowed piece of paper in my twenty-something handwriting.  Some anonymous long quote about the risks of loving another. I held onto it and this is the result.

Shadows with No Light

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You were seen downtown one Sunday morning hanging out at the local cafe’ 

Pretending to be part of the beautiful people in a tony town

 Hung over from a Saturday night of shallow dinner party dialogue

 Getting wasted on wine and secretly lusting after the host’s wife

 to  alleviate the ennui of suburban existence

Your companion is a farce masquerading as a woman “Who knows Who”

 When in reality she is merely a vapid vamp mirroring a myriad of other MLFs 

You fit well with the air kissing crowd, capable of crumbs for conversation

You feed each other tidbits and then fuck each other into oblivion 

Drown your demons if you dare

But heaven and earth will not be moved by your denial

No shifts will occur in the course of your creation

You’ll just descend further towards a self-created hell

 

Day 28. A trip to the dark side of suburbia. No apologies for the epithet. It seemed to fit the message..

An Unexpected Find

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I found a picture from long ago

A black and white snapshot

Halcyon days, golden school days

Half a dozen young men on the campus wall

Teetering towards the real world

in the days before we were scattered apart

and away from one another

The memories come back in snippets

My college brothers

The ones who stood by me through my first big heartache

Winter break nights sleeping on your couch

in a room with cold heat

We worked all day and broke bread at night

I made you keep the toilet seat down and the bathroom clean

We were unapologetic about being young

Wild and willing to touch the edge of our limits

Living in the moment

Creating our own world and sharpening our minds

 Kamikaze nights and pitchers of beer

Thursday nights at the Stein

Random times singing

“Run Around Sue” and Bruce’s “Hungry Heart” with the jukebox

Knowing these were our own glory days

Years that were foolish and  fleeting but oh so much fun! 

We moved on and forward

We grew up and maybe a little old

But those bold and beautiful days are still in my heart

Day 27. You come to realize how much of a life you’ve lived when digging through old items. Yesterday I opened a trunk and found some photos from my college days. A black and white one from 1982 struck me and brought back many happy times with the guys who were a big part of my experience.

Bittersweet Good-byes

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Some good-byes are unexpected

Seeming to come out of thin air

A sudden, tragic death with no chance for a proper farewell

 

Still others we wait for in agony and tortuous anticipation

A diagnosis with a termination date

Time to prepare, yes

But is there really enough time?

Each minute is precious

Each day a gift

Time for truths to be told

At last- the final moment- permission to leave and be released from pain

 

And there’s the relationship existing long past its expiration date

You take a step towards tossing it out

But the grip of fear holds you back

Starting over, being alone are the vises that lock you in

Then the hammer comes down and you are at once relieved and reveling

A warped dance of grieving a false love

and the  idealized version created for appearances

Mourning the idea and plowing the depths of sadness

Tending to it and then letting it go

 

Then they are the Someday good-byes

Ones you know will happen in life’s ebbs and flows

Children leaving the nest

Ready to tend their own gardens

You’ve given them the seeds and the soil and the rakes and the hoes

Their minds and hearts will continue to be sown

They are seedlings with strong roots

 

Each farewell challenging on its own

Each wrought with the messiness of change

Each allowing for transformation

And the the beginnings of a new day

 

Day 26. Can you sense a theme this week?  Preparing to leave this place is an exercise in quiet intensity and healthy sentimentality. The corners of the house have been poked and prodded. Old items-keepsakes from way back-have been rediscovered. The attic-though sparse- had its own treasure trove. The kitchen table has old photos scattered about. They haven’t moved for days. I’ll revisit them before I reorganize them and put them away.  Others are well-packed in albums and stored in a bin. Thanks for staying tuned in!

Vanishing Point

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Turning courses

Letting you loose and letting you go

in an effort for you to experience the errors of your ways

 Still, you remain hell-bent

Blind to the consequences of your actions

You pursue destruction, not reconciliation

Unshakable in your pursuit

Committed only to yourself

When you should be heeding the call

of the beggars at your gate

Your house is full of riches

but your heart remains poor

Hardened by unending greed

You seek to punish others for your own misdeeds

Destined to live in long lasting exile

 

Day 25. This post was inspired by a chapter in a book I’m reading, “Love Wins”,  by Rob Bell.  I want to express my gratitude to him for giving me the words for this poem today. He’s a dynamic writer about faith, and as I understand it, an even more dynamic speaker. Looking forward to seeing him in May!

Recollections and Reflections

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We’re taking a journey to the past

Deliberately digging

Rediscovering ourselves

Who we were back then

The cache of moments revealing treasures hidden away

Tiny Instances and minor flashpoints of lives in one place 

School times

Christmas times

Easter tides

Carnival rides

and Halloween’s candy treats

Snow days bundled up- oh  those rosy cheeks! 

Summer days, freedom days, no shirts and bare running feet

The world looked greener then, full of promise

The present is a place of demarcation

The time when the bond of bygone times bears fruit for the future

We stand together at the precipice, hearts pulsing

All systems go for the epic Act III

 

Day 24.  I don’t think I’ve ever felt so conscious of time as I have this week. Shortly, this house will be a part of our past. The boys will go together to their own place and I with my beloved. Honestly, it is very exciting, despite the work of packing up and getting rid of things.