Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for February, 2012

Riven

Cut

torn

rent asunder

Cloven

evermore

divided

Nevermore

to come again

that fond-remembered life

that old comfortable world

the cheerful cozy loved familiar past.

Split

sundered

disjoined

never to return

never to recur

never to go home again.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Well that was random…

Here’s something I wrote as an exercise for my writing class. I’m really quite stunned with how it turned out, especially since it took about 5min and isn’t remotely important. Maybe I am “doin it rite”. 😉

It’s been forever since I’ve been to a kids’ ball game. Since I was in one, probably. I wouldn’t have come today either, but it means a lot to Fran.
It’s been almost four years since Sam passed, but it hasn’t gotten any easier on her. Being father and mother to an energetic kid like Sammy, plus working a job and keeping hold of one’s sanity, is no task for the faint of heart. But she’s a trooper. She shouts something encouraging to her boy as he goes to bat; he turns to us with a cheeky grin, just like his dad’s. Dust rises from beneath his feet as he trots up to the batter’s box and assumes the position. The aluminum bat catches a glint of sun, momentarily blinding me. The pitcher stares Sammy down with the most evil eye I’ve ever seen on a 7- year old. Sammy returns the glare. The pitch: low and outside. Sammy swings anyway.
“Shake it off, shake it off! You can do it!” Fran calls. Sammy adjusts his batting helmet and settles back into his stance.
The pitch: the swing. With a thunk Sammy makes contact; the ball goes straight up into the air, and straight back down into the catcher’s waiting mitt. The crowd cheers. Sammy trudges back to the bench, dragging his bat, his head hanging low. The coach pats him on the shoulder, murmuring something we can’t hear.
“It’s okay, buddy, you’ll get it next time!” Fran barely keeps the desperation from her voice. She so wants the team to win, so wants something good to happen for Sammy for once. It’s been a long time.
I wish I could stay. I wish I could be here for my baby sister and her boy. The kid needs a man in his life. But like his dad I must go where I am sent, catching only fleeting moments like this.
I hope he can forgive us.

Read Full Post »

Acquaintance

Have you met him

Death

in passing

he nods, pauses briefly

and continues on his way.

Have you met her

his companion

constant shadow

Grief

her many sisters

they linger, dawdling

wherever he transpires.

Read Full Post »

Winter sun

There is nothing like it

no substitute or replacement

for that dazzling winter sun.

That sublime tingle of heat

like the touch of a lover in the cold

That special brilliance

the faultless hue of searing white

lifting faces and hearts

skin and spirit basking in its glow

often simulated, never duplicated.

A juvenile star, it’s said to be

a callow youth

guileless and unschooled.

But no grand master

no aged red sage of a star

could so supremely balance

that perfect color

perfect tint

perfect warmth

perfect light

inimitable.

Read Full Post »

On Writing

http://www.brainpickings.org/index.php/2012/01/09/best-books-on-writing-reading/

 

Read Full Post »

Paper moon

Paper moon, on your silver thread

a pallid counterfeit of your skybound sibling

Within reach you hang; within my grasp

I can hold you, mold you, touch your cratered face

make you my own.

Painted sky

any color I wish, you are

steadfast, unlike your ephemeral ancestor

an instant of stunning beauty, fleeting

and then gone forever.

Imaginary world

I create you

every dream I have, each passing whim

is mine

all that is tedious and drear

banished

to your corporeal cousin.

For while his riches may be broader

his potential

greater

outside they remain

so much dimmer

so much farther

so much

more

out of reach.

Read Full Post »

Transition

They stand together on the beach
their last link with the old world
the old life
fading into mist
into nothing
gone.
She stares, empty
at a loss
her heart torn
he takes her hand.

Who is this man?
this man, this living man
not a dream or a spirit or a fantasy
not the one you pined for, the one that could never be
but solid and real
and loving you.
She looks into his eyes, questing
is this who you are?
do you love me
and can I love you?
Can we leave behind that old life
create something new here together?
can it be done?
He pulls her close, clutching, desperate
gods I hope so.

What now? they ask
as hand in hand they leave the empty shore behind
the old life, the past but a memory
a fantasy
as unreal as if it had never happened.
A new existence breaks in through their daze
a world of taxis and trains
cities
miles across the continent
home.
Can this be right?
The years since she met him
since she lost him
a blur
She casts a glance
again and again
each time startled to find him there
beside her
distant and sad but there
real
bittersweet.
Can this really be?
She leads him, gingerly
uncertain
into her family home
the family and the home so different
from the one she knew for nearly twenty years
yet somehow right.
Now strange again
with this new man beside her
clinging to her hand.
Safe inside she turns to him.
Can this be real?
Can you be?
Is it true, the words you said
the words I so wanted to hear
as if wishing made them so
did you mean them?
were they real?
The truth afire in his eyes
the love he had so long denied
the passion, newly aroused
his blood ablaze as blood ne’er burned in him before.

On our own at last, you free me
your skin under my hands, so soft
your curves, so strong, so beautiful
your touch, electric
how could I ever have stood
alone in a room with you
and not been possessed
now
I can’t stop touching
kissing
pressing your body to mine
sensation overcoming all thought
I am lost in you
your scent, your sound
the way you move against me
your hair, cascading
brushing my skin, teasing
driving me mad.
My body aches for you
screams
you welcome me, warmly
I think I might die
my skin simmering
my soul on fire
I never want to let you go again
never want to miss that touch
let me live here forever
in your blazing embrace.

So long I’ve wanted you, needed you
missed you, your absence a hole in my life
now you are mine
all that passion set free
ardor unleashed
I possess you
my hands on your skin
in your hair
I claim every inch of you
the strength of your arms, pressing me to you
feeding my flame
your heart next to mine, pounding in harmony
as if we could disappear, become one
never be parted again.
The scent of you fills me
igniting my soul
your lips on mine, burning
the sweat of your body
the way you move with me
awakening every nerve
expanding me
inflaming me
yearning
becomes ecstasy
becomes peace.

Too much to adjust to
this sudden need for sleep
and food
and you.
A whole new world
emotions
sensations
a body so alien, so strange.
Slowly I learn
what it must be like
to be you
how hard it is
to feel so much
by this body
betrayed
victim to all its whims.
Is this what it is
to be human?
a constant struggle
a fight for dominance
control
of my own self
letting go, a challenge
impossibly difficult
so much more than I ever imagined
so much more than I can take.
I watch you sleep
envy you your peacefulness
your ignorance of any other way
pining for my own lethe
begone, the memory of immortality
the constance of that extra heart.
But then you turn to me
with your deep brown eyes and smile
gloriously
a world of sensation overcomes
drowns me
I am lost
the joy of your smile
the intoxication of your touch.
Is this what it is
to be human?
new heights of pleasure
to balance the pain
Is this how you endure
day by day, so gray
so brief and all alone
and then, all of a sudden
resplendent color
beyond description.
No wonder you loved that life so much!
No wonder you grieve
I grieve for you
your loss as well as mine
your brief and minute world exploded
and then shrunk again to nothing.
I think finally I may know
what that is
how it feels
color, and then blackness
vision, blindness
love and loss

humanity.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »