Mother’s Day

I think I would prefer to die
my second death

Now while the scent of him lingers yet
in the soiled clothes strewn around on the
floor of his bedroom

While his footprint remains oil on glass
from our last long road trip
on the windshield of my car
valuable no longer for its re-sale value
nor cargo carrying capacity
but only for this fading track

While his voice is still trapped in someone’s answering machine
Why can’t it be mine?
so that when they come to town
they can play it for me
They haven’t yet erased it
but they will

Before I close my eyes and can no longer see his eyes
Or the dimple in his cheek
Or the mole on his back
Or the dozen other things
that made him mine
especially, mostly, but never all

Before I have lost all trace
and the fine line between memory
and fantasy blurs
and he becomes a saint
or a hero
or a legend

Instead of just a boy
Whom I loved above all others,
All else, present

In the silent aftermath of my
first and last deep breath

Haiku# 30: My dog, the teenager

At first, a Mohawk
Then clothes, showers, chewing gum
Now, the dog wants bling.

Time

Where does
Redemption lie
If not
Within the heart

In the realm of
Second chances
Dawn to dusk then

Last chances

Faith in faith renewed

We’re given only
So much time
So many possibilities

Before what came before
Becomes that which
Overrides all hope
Of touching anything

More

Transcendence has
Its limits
Equal to the
Human heart

Finite in dimension
Despite immense intent

Restricted
By the darkness
Captured
Within the scope
Shot down
By the power

Of ticking
Treacherous

Time

Blue-collar Rorschach?

If they were making
A movie
He asked me

In a recent
Job interview

Who would you want
To play you?

If you could be any
Car
Any make and model

What kind of car
Would you be?

I paused for a moment
And stared at him
Wondering
What the fuck?

Then smiling
My most diplomatic
Smile
I said
Please tell me
This

If I say I want
Demi to play me
Or Charlize Theron
Or Drew Barrymore

Are you more likely
To hire me than
If I say
Maggie Smith
Or Kathy Bates?

If I say I’d like to
Be a Jag
Is that better
Than a
Volkswagen Bus?

Is a Lamborghini
Somehow more apt
Than a fifties
Pick-up truck?

I’ll admit
Your psychological
Profile questions
Throw me into
A tizzy

Cause I SO want this job

I’ve always dreamed

Of cashiering at
A mini-mart

Snip

I started small
Just an inch or two

It felt good so I asked for more

Keep going, I said
Are you sure? He asked
I need it, I said

Please continue

So he did and
I felt myself
Growing lighter

My heart beating faster
My breath coming quicker
Gazing in wonder as
He worked his magic

So many years in the making

With every successive
Touch of his hand
I moaned louder still

Take it off! I begged
Off it came

Cascading
Onto the floor

The whole thing was over
In a matter of minutes
Though the memory is
With me still

Every time I look
In the mirror

I can see his face
Smell his cologne
And hear the sound
He made

Snip
Snip
Snip …

As he expertly
Cut my hair

What You Have

It settles in like
A warm fog
Born of nights that
Last too long
And dreams that
End too soon

The wanting is to blame

Motions pass the hours
Till the sun
Breaks through the clouds

Bringing with it
Salvation
In the form of
Truth

To throw away
What is of value
For the sake of
Wanting more

More of that very thing

Is in essence to break
One’s own heart
To spite it and
Render it mute

In the name of
The ego
At the expense
Of what is real

There is no hurry
To get to the more
The more is now
The more is here

It is having the heart
To understand

That this very thing
You want more of

Is golden in its own
Right
As it exists in this moment

What you want
Is what you have

Haiku #28: Lone States

Alone is a state
Of body, lonesome is found
In a state of heart

Meet me

Meet me

In the hayloft of the old
abandoned barn…

On the corner of
5th and Elm…

Behind the shed
Down the alley
At the water’s edge

Under the railroad tracks
Over the bridge
Beyond the forest

Up the avocado tree
Past the highway
Across the meadow wide

After the sun sets
Before the moon rises
As the tide comes in

In front of ghosts, shadows
Memories and demons

Outside of the box…

Meet me

Haiku #18: April fools

In a jester’s world
Can every day be seen as
Proof of April fools?

Haiku #13: Walk with me

Come sleep beside me
Lose your fear of what’s unknown
If only till dawn

Take a walk with me
Let your hand remember mine
If only till noon

Eat and drink with me
Laugh, talk or make not a sound
If only till dusk