I've Been

Mocked and ridiculed
(deservedly sometimes)
Rejected and abandoned
(reasons varied)
Scorned and praised
(not always rightfully)
Honored and despised
(ditto)

Spit on
(twice)
Pissed and shit on
(mostly figuratively)
Kicked, punched and bit
(no reason for that)
Struck by cars
(got scars)

Tested
(passed usually)
Assessed
(results pending)
Judged
(found wanting)
Penalized
(fairly?)

And if that
Were all there was
To life
Well,
The Hell
With blood and tears

But,
I’ve been:

Befriended
(mysterious process that)
Caressed and kissed
(nothing’s sweeter)
Loved and cherished
(beyond all reason)

Blessed

* * *

The Pheasant

I stood over the pheasant lying prostrate, bewildered, in the corn stubble.

No living thing can predict the moment of its demise.

Just minutes before, this beautiful bird had sprinted skywards to escape the jowls of a predator hound...a “gun” dog...trained to find and flush feathered prey. That handsome, tireless, canid was dedicated to purpose. Amazing in instinct and insight.

The pheasant fled towards the sun.

I watched startled the fluttered colors ascend. Raised gun to shoulder. Pulled the trigger.

Wings akimbo, rainbow fell to earth.

Shotgun cradled in crook of arm, I crunched my way down slope to where the plumage lay.

There was blood. There was shock and suffering. The pheasant looked at me and blinked in dumbstruck agony.

There was little else to do but snap the spine and haul the cadaver home.

So I did just that.

And plucked the feathers from the carcass.

Prepared a traditional Basque stew with noodles and prunes.

And as I supped in silence, a lead pellet lodged between my teeth.

Lead, you see, is poison.

I think back on all this now and reflect:

How appropriate.

* * *

In a Different Time

A different place
Different situation
Different yin
Different yang

I might have
Laughed

Not now
Nor ever again
Not this lifetime

* * *

Got Me a Song

That’s kinda how things happen in my brain. Gimme midnight. Gimme a song. And...if the song is right...I’ll listen to it again and again and again. Through all the dark hours leading to the dawn.

Call Me

Wrap me in a bolt of lightning
Send me on my way still smiling
Maybe that's the way I should go
Straight into the mouth of the unknown
Left the spare key on the table
Never really thought I'd be able
To say I’ll merely visit on the weekends
I lost my whole life and a dear friend

I've said it so many times
I would change my ways
No, never mind
God knows I've tried

Call me a sinner, call me a saint
Tell me it's over, I'll still love you the same
Call me your favorite, call me the worst
Tell me it's over, I don't want you to hurt
It's all that I can say
So, I'll be on my way

I finally put it all together
But nothing really lasts forever
I had to make a choice that was not mine
I had to say goodbye for the last time
I kept my whole life in a suitcase
Never really stayed in one place
Maybe that's the way it should be
You know I live my life like a gypsy

I've said it so many times
I would change my ways
No, never mind
God knows I've tried

Call me a sinner, call me a saint
Tell me it's over, I'll still love you the same
Call me your favorite, call me the worst
Tell me it's over, I don't want you to hurt
It's all that I can say
So, I'll be on my way

I'll always keep you inside, you healed
My heart and my life...
And you know I tried

Call me a sinner, call me a saint
Tell me it's over, I'll still love you the same
Call me your favorite, call me the worst
Tell me it's over, I don't want you to hurt
It's all that I can say
So, I'll be on my way
So, I'll be on my way
So, I'll be on my way

* * *

Silence

The silence is disconcerting.

It is eerily quiet tonight. True, the windows are set hard to jamb. After all, we are to freeze before dawn. Even so, there are no muffled exhaust rumbles, distant train whistles, no faint echoes of a world beyond streaked glass. It is eerily quiet.

There’s no music tonight. No footsteps in hallways, no gentle snores from an adjacent room. There's nothing more than the mechanical hum of the cooling fan in my computer. And the clicking/clacking of keyboard keys.

There were no phone calls this evening. No letters to savor.

Everything and all have seemingly vanished.

The cacophony of the sunny Sunday afternoon is a distant memory. That reverie, even, doesn’t feel real on a night like this when all is somnolent and silent...

‘Ceptin’ the hum of a cooling fan and the clicking/clacking of keyboard keys.

* * *

Limping Along

Ah, what a day!

The months/weeks/days were so dreary and bleak
Then came warmth from God knows where
Clouds parted and sun blushed radiant
Temperature climbed extraordinarily...veritably soared
Such that windows begged to be flung open

And they were

Children shrieked catapulting ‘cross emerald grass
Neighbors called my name...
Smiled and waved
Sweat soaked dirty shirt as I walked
Well, limped

Limped ‘til I couldn’t bear the pain

Far enough to feel the pleasure.

* * *

What I Want

Is to hear a Hammond B3 trembling, then wailing, through Leslies. A drop-eyed lead guitarist, half-pint tucked in ass pocket, bending the strings on a well-worn Telecaster, triplets beat with tired resignation and a voice, reminiscent of Janis, crying truths ‘bout love.

Yeah.

That’s what I wanna hear tonight.

* * *

Wild Night

The winds howled. Windows rattled and shingles shivered.

Warm front generals decided to stage a frontal assault against the forces of the dreary, weary cold.

The assault raged all day.

Came the night and heavy artillery was deployed. Skies burn phosphorescent. Thunder explodes. Homes tremble before the fury.

Me likes.

Me prays to be electrified, thunderstruck, blown to smithereens...transported.

* * *

Empty Hands

These hands once
Held water

Fingers gave pleasure
Calluses were
Proof of good work

These hands once
Cupped soft breasts
And fragile birds

The scars
Whisper stories
Best forgotten

These hands
Conveyed love
Once

Empty now

Helpless

* * *

The Knife

Draw that knife
Across this throat
I’ll make it easier for you
I’ll throw my head back

Here’s my jugular
It is, after all,
Just a vein
Nothing more

Call it Destiny
To be the scapegoat
The sacrificial lamb
I close my eyes

I throw my head back
Do your worst
Do your best
Here’s my throat

* * *

A Tear

If all it took were a tear or two

(no matter how bloody)

I’d be redeemed

If all it took were a razor across a wrist

I’d find peace at last

But it takes more

Lots more

Than tears, razors, glass shards

or evisceration

To redeem a soul

* * *

Kol Nidre

Yeah.

It's that kinda night.

* * *

Because This Night...

Because this dark night...these shivering, rain-soaked, tear-stained hours that straddle the infinite between winter and spring...demands to be heard.

* * *