Undirected

"What difference is there between us, save a restless dream that follows my soul but fears to come near you?" ~ Khalil Gibran

undirected
energy emanates from me
undirected
longings squirm inside my body
fever of the soul to burn clean
a fine mind that's disconnected

His Granddaddy's Shotgun

Ordinary enough, that night. It started out that way, anyhow. In fact, the details of the evening escape me up until the moment I walked into our bedroom to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, a shotgun sitting upright on the floor, right in front him, resting there like a third leg. The barrel of it pointing straight up.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked him, tears already streaming down my face. We had been arguing that night about money, like we always did. He had been out of work for weeks and spent his days kayaking rather than job searching. The argument was typical. The circumstances were not new. The gun being introduced into the scene, now that was new. 

"I don't deserve to live. I can't find a job. Isn't that what you're telling me? If I can't work, I can't live?" 

"I'm not doing this," is all I could say as I left him like that, grabbing my purse and heading out the door.

I checked into the hotel down the street from our house. Once in the room, I lit up a cigarette and called 911. They took him in with no problems. Confiscated his granddaddy's shotgun, and put him in the local mental hospital for three days. That was the worst it ever got, and I didn't leave him right away, even though I should have. It's been a couple of years since we've spoken, but as far as know, he's doing just fine.

Awaiting Rain

"In Texas, it's always hot, dry, sunny, not a cloud in the sky." ~ Piper Perabo

dirt whips itself into fuss
while the sun beats down
tree branches hang low, leaves whither
dogs pant as their keepers frown

at the empty blue sky
on the hot rocks, snakes slither
dogs pant as their keepers frown
tree branches hang low, leaves whither

weeds thrive despite the heat
survival of the fittest, they wear the crown
tree branches hang low, leaves whither
dogs pant as their keepers frown

My Rock

Snow crunched under my boots as I walked into a small gathering of pine trees that morning. Not having been there before, I wasn't sure where I was headed, but soon enough found a clearing at the edge of the hill I walked upon. Finding a rock to sit on, I looked out over the pine covered hills, letting the view coax me into a reverie of thought. It didn't take long for the tears to fall. They had been quietly waiting for the right time to break free, and they cascaded rather somberly down my cheeks.

I was only fifteen at the time and attending a church sponsored ski trip. My mother and I had argued about my going. When she gave in to my selfish, teen-age reasoning, she said, "Go. Go ski for me. I've always wanted to do that." So I had done it. Not for her, but for me. There I was in the mountains, enjoying a vacation with friends and up until that moment, that moment on the rock, I had refused to think of her. She had been diagnosed with terminal cancer a few months earlier. The doctors didn't think she had much time left and they were right. I lost her two months after that ski trip. The rock of my life.

Drunken Sailor

"In art and dream, may you proceed with abandon. In life may you proceed with balance and stealth." ~ Patti Smith

despair in every ribbon of hope; i'm on the edge
a picturesque scene of serenity is just a sketch
life can't be either/or; it lies
somewhere in between lows and highs
it does seem my feet have no grip
in which to balance on life's ship
is it funny how i always choose to walk the tightrope
knowing the fall is despair in every ribbon of hope

tumultuously staggering about this life of mine
a drunken sailor knowing it always works out just fine
a heavy heart is mine to bear
and others will have their fair share
of diseases and tears i know
wish we didn't need pain to grow
i refuse to believe that i must always swim in doubt
drunken sailor, tumultuously staggering about

Such as Fate

"Actions are the seed of fate, deeds grow into destiny." ~ Harry S. Truman

to dream of love with you is fine
to while away the time, divine
to look forward to our next date
to tempt a master such as fate

to run from my life into yours
to want a box chalked full of cures
to work myself up in a state
to tempt a master such as fate

can't run away from me no more
can't shut my dreams behind a door
can't avoid myself with a mate
can't tempt a master such as fate

to dream of love with you is fine
can't tempt a master such as fate

Maybe Bliss

"Now a soft kiss - Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss." ~ John Keats

so you're here,

a muse to use, keep near

to me sweetie, 'cause we're good for us,

for now, in the in between, that we won't discuss

forget the customs of propriety, the fuss 

friends, then lovers, let us stay like this

sharing time and a kiss

maybe bliss