Thursday, March 25, 2010

Christine Said “No!”

she said “no!”
actually there was
an explicative before the “no!”
I will not repeat it
for it belies her image,
at least the one
most want to ascribe to her

we should know better
for even though, as usual,
she was wearing
the cute, trendy outfit,
and that hair,
redder than an Irish Setter
dazzling in the noon-day sun,
whispers of a simmering
fire in her soul

she said, “no!”
to another mechanical device,
a battery powered miracle of modern technology
to (hopefully) improve
her current malady,
which is little more than a continuation
of all the past maladies,
which are only one way
to tell the story of her life

the expletive was deserved
and I think we all agree
that she can say “no!”
any way she wants
that she has had enough
that she has earned the right
to stomp and swear and
shake her fist at things unseen

and we join her in wanting it
to stop, to get better
we pray, we wait, we hope
and we wonder,
frustrated, confused, angry,
but we join her in refusing to give up
for we cannot accept
the alternative

Friday, March 19, 2010

You’re wasting my time

The crowd chattered for blood, mine. I thought they were my friends. I thought wrong. My thoughts pushed me forward into his rushing fist. I staggered, dizzy. I couldn’t quit. I rounded a right, praying to connect.

He grabbed my arm in mid-swing and laughed, “Pathetic. You’re wasting my time.” The adolescent giant had me by eight inches and fifty pounds.

It was a magic moment. His laugh dripped of arrogance. The crowd turned. A rare breath of humanity appeared in teenage boys. They started cheering for me, not him.

Stunned, he looked at the crowd, then bolted into the darkness.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

How times have changed

One drizzly morning, she sailed for the farthest tip of South America. He left the West Coast for Japan a few weeks later. They left knowing that they wouldn’t see each other for five years. No rendezvous in Hawaii, just because. No plane trips home for a sibling’s wedding or grandparent’s funeral. No phones or Internet. Letters would take weeks on the journey across the sea. That was all they had. That and memories and commitment. They’d write, send and, wait. Letters would cross; their stories lost sequence. Tenacious hearts endured. Five years later, they returned home and married. They’d promised.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010


Here we go again
Sun’s high, baking my back
Perfect day for fishing the lake
We could cookout, maybe take a nap

But, no, as usual, people find us
They want to hear his stories
Come on, at best he’s got twenty
And they all end about the same

How many times will I have to watch it?
He spins some convoluted tale
About selfish, greedy, conniving people
With a twist ending of justice (I call it injustice)

They nod their heads, but haven’t got a clue
I don’t either and I’m with him every day
Doesn’t matter, they always ask for more
He’s bolstered by their energy

I learned a long time ago to fake understanding
Otherwise he says that “Eyes and Ears” bit again
I don’t want to look stupid
So I let the others do the talking

I’ve learned to listen to my friends
And offer my agreement when
A reasonable consensus forms
It’s safe to go with the crowd

He’s determined to reach
The “holy” city by Passover
Great…more people…more stories
Guess I’ll follow along