Oh dear – between illness and work, I have been not doing a good job of getting this place updated on a daily basis. Shame, and eternal shame, nothing but shame.
(That’s strong, but Shakespeare understood words, Man.)
Now then, on to the process of catching up!
Let the world turn on.
I’ll trace the full equator
Around my wine glass.
Clearly you did not drink your
He drinks whiskey neat.
She loves frills and twisty straws.
A perfect bar match.
I had an unfortunate dream about you.
There were no giant catfish.
There were no one-toothed gypsies.
No, you soothed my troubles.
And though I was the harbor master,
And mistress of the manifests,
It was you that calmed me down.
I say unfortunate
because I awoke feeling peaceful.
Knowing full well that you
– the real you –
The you I would see
Was not my subconscious evolution of you.
No safe harbor to be gained from you,
But no squalls either.
My mind was calmed by the idea of you,
Yet you do not sail with me.
You are as distant as the lighthouse,
As vague as the foghorn,
And I cannot fathom you holding me
for longer than the three seconds
between my coat and the door.
Sleep deceives and dreams belie
The soundless depths of men.
Asking for Forgiveness
Asking for forgiveness
Forces us to look at the callouses on our souls.
Looking to faith hurts
Because we are hurting
Scared that we might not be healed,
That we may be hurt again,
That we may hurt again.
And we will.
To feel the promise of life,
One need only run fingers
Through the decay of the fall.
That rich, cool promise of nourishment
Squishing between one’s fingers.
There is no time for dirt like spring,
When all life is waking
On the bones of the last season,
When Mother Nature is tossing her muddy head, exultant in the thaw!
Let it get up under your nails
And rub into your knuckle creases!
Enjoy it! Revel in it!
For soon it will turn into the cracked and hot summer dirt
And lose a fraction of its glory.
At least, until next spring.