Posts for June 5, 2020 (page 5)

I got big plans ya’ see
big plans
The bats have good eatin tonight
the nymphs and leaf hoppers are having too good a time too
oh but I’m pulling weeds tomorrow
at high cloud sunrise
no sergio leone “whaaaaaaaaaa” in the background though
chillbeats’ll be blasting through window screen
into a sleepy subdivision

plans on plans after that
potting plants and trimming the roses tomorrow too
and don’t forget to laugh
laugh at lee van cleef 
‘cus i brought my own shovel, thanks
and there’s plenty of earthly treasure here 
dandelion dollars and crab grass legs
AYAAAAAAA! 
I got plans see
and I know what I’m gonna be
one worn out son-of-a-gun

Never allow another’s indifference
affect the way you shine.
Some people never look up to stars.

Never lower your standards
for the affections of another.
You’ll hollow out the foundation of yourself.

Never let yourself become
the fool the wise one learns from.
They’ll step over you to enlightenment.

Never waste a seat by a stranger
by failing to say hello.
You will never meet the right people.

Never live outside your given time
worried about past wounds or future dreams.
The present will sadly wave goodbye.

What to have for dinner?
Doesn’t matter, just not what I had last night.
What to do tomorrow?
Stay healthy at home, or go to a demonstration?
Maybe a drive-by, staying healthy in car.
Who to call or Facetime?
Relative, friend?
Local or long distance?
What kinds of plans to make?
Uncertain future, plans can change.
Who gets my vote in this primary?
Will there even be a general election?
There was a time when choices had predictable results, longterm results.
Not so much now.

I drowned you.  The thought of you.
Pulled you out to the middle of that big, dark, swirling lake.
Filled your pockets with the stones you had thrown at me.

Pushed you under and let the water suck you deeper.

I sit on the bank every night.  Gazing over the calm water.
But it always happens, a light ripple builds into a small wave.
Bubbles begin to roll like a boiling pot of noodles.

You pop to the surface, swollen, and bloated with that grin on your face.

Leaving me to drown you all over again.

I took some dishes in a box
to the back seat of the car
Out of sight, out of mind
It always worked thus far.

The seat is very cluttered 
with things to give away
Sometimes I need to wait awhile
Or, just another day

Then, while driving down the road
I hit a large pot hole
Those dishes didn’t care for that
And Boy! They let me know…

“Clatter Clatter Clatter Clatter
Clatter Clatter Plop!
Chatter Chatter Bang Bang
Chatter Chatter Stop!
Let us out – let us out
We mean you no harm
Unleash us from this prison
We will all get along”

Their tones were very nasty
Almost like a dare
Sounding like novelity wind-up teeth
One can win at a fair

What if they were vicious
and made a jump for me?
Chewed alive by dishes
No chance my case to plea

When I regained composure
I looked into the back
dishes stacked so neatly
and not a one was cracked

Decided then to drive back home
This was not the time
To let go back seat treasures
Another day, a different rhyme.

You fell and scraped your knee on rough concrete.
The wound is silent
Until blood screams from it.

I rush to your side
–the one that isn’t bleeding–
because that’s the safest bet
(for me)

and

I know you wish
I’d lick it clean

But how can I?

Dust lines my thirsty lips
and 
I’m too weak to spit this festering truth.

How are you
                                 
                                       _______________

How are you

                                      _______________

How are you

                                     Trying not to panic

How are you

                                     Focused on my breathing

How are you

                                     Lots of guided meditation

How are you

                                     It hits me in waves

How are you

                                     WTF, what just happened

How are you

                                     Feels like I’ve been chewed up and spit out

How are you

                                      Life is different now

How are you

                                    The new normal and all that

How are you

                                     Just headed in for radiation

How are you

                                     I’m good!

I imagine you as the classmate who never left
our hometown because you stayed to make it better.
After graduation, you became an EMT and saved lives,
even before they called you a frontline worker.
I imagine wishing I talked to you more at school.

I imagine you as my best friend.
We make plans to reach 30 together
still keeping each other’s secrets,
sharing goals, building our families.
I imagine you almost like a sister.

I imagine you saw this birthday and threw yourself a party
despite the pandemic,
wore your black dress and heels
because you knew how good you looked.
I imagine 27 still felt like an age worth celebrating.

I don’t want to imagine a world in which you deserved to live –
You already did. This world failed you.
Now we are called to change it, to remind everyone
you mattered.

Slashes of lightning stab
my dog with fear. He jumps
with each jolt of static
electricity, whimpers
as thunder pounds the sky.

I try to comfort him,
cradling his body,
like a small child, coo
softly as I stroke his head:
Good boy, it’s okay, I’m here.
But he is inconsolable.
Like me
the night you died.

Bound to a resolute frame,

a boulder of being,

that rolls for no one, no thing

I would be lost

in a river of dampened dreams

wearied by swimming upstream

if not for the made up mind

of a once wandering friend

since rooted in fallow ground