Tag Archives: bittersweetness of life

“I Rightly Turn Away”

Milwaukee skating rink, on a snowy night right before Christmas.

I don’t want to go home to family that are strangers who don’t,

and cannot, are just unwilling to understand what I’m feeling, going through.

I want to stay in this dark place, heated to discomfort, but enveloping,

and the candy lights dancing in shadows, as all these kids, all these young people,

are free and easy, not knowing what is coming for them.

On a stage, a petite brunette, her frayed hair up in a ponytail, closes her eyes,

and sings about how “No boy, I will not love you”, “I rightly turn away”,

the music sharp and electronic, and soft and warm as a new lover’s kisses.

Kids, teenagers, young smart ass punks, poet and dreamers, and death worshippers,

all dancing and holding hands and dreaming of that one true love, or the one that

broke their hearts, or some better sunny future down in Hollywood.

The highs of youth, on free and fearless love, or the stars whispering in your ears,

falls away so quickly, leaving ashes and regrets and need to sleep mornings away.

It is warm hear, and none talks to me, so I won’t feel alone when they will not listen.

I was like these kids once, but death came close, and fear and so much pain.

I cannot end the scars and wreckage, and none of those asshole can reach out honestly.

That petite brunette locks eyes with me, and I smile, and in the dark I see her smile back.

The candied lights and all the pure dreams and all the things I can almost reach in her,

call back another girl, another song, another dream, and a lost and ruined life.


The Crown Is Clearer In The Dark

The party is too much noise.
I go outside with a bottle of red wine.
It’s cold and wind, end of September.
The stars a diadem for heaven.
The crown is clearer in the dark.
The crashing surf the bridal train.
I sit in the sand, drinking, singing.
An old love song from my youth.
Sappy and corny as all get out.
Still it’s a hymn to heaven,
worthy of a crowned head,
even on her wedding day.
A boy and girl, laughing,
no darkness in soft faces,
teenagers pure and perverse
as they splash in the waves
and hold hand, kiss, tickle
and run wild on a knifes edge.
I remember. I remember.
She was the sun I orbited,
The sun went nova.
I lay down, bottle empty,
watching those perilous stars
and singing that sappy song.
Hymns are songs of devotion,
glorying the seed of light,
that soothes and burns and inspires.
I hear a woman’s voice calling me.
Please come here to the night.
I will place this crown upon your head

Weight of Life

She carries The weight of life in her belly,
the dream of flesh and the carriage of bones.
She touches her growing belly tenderly,
as if to touch the child inside.
 She is joyous and hopeful and a bit fearful.
The weight of life carries ecstatic burdens.
She says it will be a girl, and they’ve picked a name.
Her man will softly touch her, what they’ve made together.
 I offer prayers, and a ear to hear her catechism
of hope and waters deep and eternal and momentary.
From an internal sea to the days of love and dreams
that knows sweetness in passing, and loss in birth.