Old World Blues

there’s a guitar
standing in the corner

it never makes a sound

days of silence
like a sudden body blow
fill up old world rooms

with memories of blues
haunting dark corners
while a mild case
of decay
covers
the dead
and the living

and
Danny and me
we listen for those notes
that never get played

he drums his fingers
on my thighs
while I
just keep on dreamin’

8 June 2018

Somewhere in the United Kingdom

Chemo Yesterday

Cycle 3 of 6 Chemo treatments happened yesterday morning, although, at a reduced dose.

I don’t know but I’m guessing I won’t feel like making words for awhile.

I don’t feel like making words now.

I don’t know if it’s silly and futile to try to maintain a blog while going through cancer treatment but for the moment I’m trying to persist.

On Tuesday I was in the hospital for pre-chemo blood work.

I’ve recently discovered the poet, Alice Oswald.

While I was waiting I read her poem:

DUNT: A POEM FOR A DRIED-UP RIVER

I like this first verse:

Very small and damaged and quite dry,
a Roman water nymph made of bone
tries to summon a river out of limestone

I like the idea of summoning rivers.

Blessings,

8 May 2018

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the waiting

and when I reach out
to touch something
that is not me

I feel a kind of
numbness
hear a kind of
dull static

that’s how I know
I’m still waiting

for you

5 May 2018
Sussex Coast, England

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Blackbird

There is a baby
blackbird
chirping
just
outside my
bedroom window

It is early
Sunday morning

thin grey light
illuminates
my white curtains

Only The Spaniel
and I are awake
and the baby bird
singing
for breakfast

A hush
settles
over everything
like dust

There is a
quiet
emptiness
about
every
Sunday morning

Sunday Morning Coming Down

which is a song
about hangovers
about living fast
and hard

These days
I’m hungover
on Life
on Death
on the Unknowable

while the quiet
seeps into my heart
filling my chest

and with it
a kind of peace

I wasn’t expecting that

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Taller

He was taller
than me

I don’t remember
how tall
six foot something

I was always
walking behind him
watching his
slim hips
sway
in faded jeans

When I first met him
he looked like Jesus

Later
he looked like
Freddie Mercury

I like
the interchangeability
of Jesus
and Freddie Mercury

I was not the Madonna
but still seemed
to always have
a baby
at my breast

and a scarf
wound
around
my neck
with dreams
of Isadora Duncan
and the freedom
of dance
in my head

I baked
sweet things
for him
and filled him
with pots
of herbal teas

He wrote songs
sang for me
in ways
he could not possibly know

I always walked
behind him
let him tower
over me

There are
moments
of beauty
so ineffable
that all you can do
is stand back
and let their light
touch you
knowing they will
never last

He was taller
than me

27 April 2018
Sussex Coast, England

 

William Shakespeare

Today is William Shakespeare’s birthday. Actually that’s not entirely true. We don’t know the date of his birth but this is the day we celebrate the birth of the Bard and also the day of his death.

One year I spent an entire day wandering the streets of Stratford-upon-Avon. It was Shakespeare’s birthday. In the  afternoon I sat in the garden of his place of birth and reflected on the magic of life and the adventures it affords us. And I took the photograph below.

Here’s a short song from Henry VIII that I like:

Song: “Orpheus with his lute made trees”

(from Henry VIII)
Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain tops that freeze,
Bow themselves when he did sing:
To his music plants and flowers
Ever sprung; as sun and showers
There had made a lasting spring.
Every thing that heard him play,
Even the billows of the sea,
Hung their heads, and then lay by.
In sweet music is such art,
Killing care and grief of heart
Blessings
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He Breathes

He breathes
and she smells
smoke

Dead man
walking

It happens
too much
now

These
vignettes
from
another time

A word
a passing comment

It’s going to be a scorcher today

And she’s off

lost to her
imagination
in all its surreal
darkness
and sometimes
light

Yesterday
the sun
was shining

She wasted
that day
in sickness

Today was
gray
lost
in time

Too much
time
searching
for blue skies

Blue sky thinking?

And she’s off

Like stepping
off a cliff
and landing
in the deep
blue sea

She knows
the sea
moves in waves
takes in water
until she is full
again

And walking

and listening

for his breathing
again

15 April 2018
Sussex Coast, England

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