The Irony About Loss

The irony about loss
is that it is more common
than it is unique.
And hate
and anger
are common too
pretending to be the “lesser evil”
judgmental.
If I could
I would retreat
to my own world
and remove myself
from caring.
That way, I could feel no pain at loss,
reciprocated anger,
or shame from being hated;
and I would feel no judging eyes,
and hear no criticizing words,
and never have to feel the betrayal
of a loved one’s disappointment
in me

Train Tracks

Days like these ought to be remembered. They are beautiful in their simplicity. We drove to that place we used to go. Do you remember? We went once, and talked for hours about stars and God. That, too, was a night to cherish. But this time, we didn’t talk, not really. We just drove. The roads there are dirt and rocky. Today there were patches of snow making some of the roads unsafe. We laughed a bit, but not as much as we used to. It felt like a little bit of the old us was coming back, but that may have been my feminine-romantic imagination. The sky was fantastic up there. It reflected in the lake making it shine silver. “I should have brought you up here when we were dating.” you said. I would have liked to hold hands and kiss you with the silvery lake and gold mountains in the background. I try to hide it, but secretly I’m a romantic sucker. You took me somewhere new today. You used to do that a lot. I would ask “Where are we going?” You would reply, “It’s a secret.” Then you would take me to such astounding places and we had wonderful, ordinary adventures. It’s been a long time since you brought me somewhere new. I’ve missed it so much. The new place was a bridge on an exempted railroad track. I’m sure you know that I have an unexplainable connection to trains. I’ve never been on one personally, but maybe that is why I am so fascinated by them. Still, I don’t think you were thinking of that when you brought me there today. I think you were thinking that you were bored and it was a cool place to explore. I don’t think that you think of me that deeply. Regardless of your intentions, I am grateful. I can only describe the place as immaculate. The tracks stretched on into the distance with the browning over-grown weeds creeping between the railroad ties. I had to jump, skipping every other tie to keep up with your long strides. Occasionally, I would forget to pay attention to where I was stepping and I would land on a sharp rock instead of the soft wood. At one time, you would be concerned every time I gasped in pain, even if it was just a simple stubbed toe. Today, even though I hurt myself three or four times stepping on rocks, or tripping, or twisting my ankle a little awkwardly, you didn’t ask if I was okay. You didn’t worry or even turn to wait for me to catch up. Perhaps you didn’t notice. Still, back then, you would have noticed. I sat on the bridge looking down through the gaps in the railroad ties. Beneath was the new railroad. You told me that your friend and his girlfriend brought you there. You said, “Arielle told me they were here when a train came once.” I would have loved to lie on that bridge and feel the rush of the train passing beneath me. You left for a while. I decided it would be best not to ask where you went. While you were gone I listened to the river nearby. The sun was setting and the sky was a beautiful orange and purple. I felt like I was above the world and from where I lay between the rails of the train track, I felt like I was hidden from everything but God. When you came back I said, “If I were a homeless person, I think I would live right here.” You laughed at me. I guess it was funny. Still, I live and work and go to school in a city. Occasions to be unseen in the open outdoors are few. There is so much pressure to be with people, to make friends and learn from new people. Often I don’t have time to get to know myself. Thank you, Michael, for giving me a moment for me. Today was a perfect romantic scene which could have been produced in any number of chick-flicks. But the reality of it was the only romance was between me and the scene. At one time I would have taken advantage of such a beautiful scene and tried to make a childish move on you, even though I insisted I wasn’t into that sort of girly crap, but now, I think love isn’t about romance. That’s just the way it gets started. Love is more about everyday life. If I only loved you when you brought me to beautiful places and told me romantic lines that would be superficial love. You know, even though you don’t love me back anymore, I still think about you every day. You don’t give me a lot of attention, but it seems like when I’m finally ready to give up and let go of my love for you, you give me a tiny taste of what you used to feel for me. The memory of it keeps me holding on. Perhaps, someday, you’ll stop giving me those tastes, and I’ll move on. For now, though, I’m simply grateful. You’ve given me a good life.

Label ME

Who sees me?
Upon seeing, what do they say I am?
Or what have they thought of me
to stop them from looking?
It cannot be
that essence is a construct
For I am
When I am alone.
If I were defined
by what people see of me
or even what I see in myself
I would not exist
when I am alone
and not defining myself.
But I feel myself.
I hear myself
speak an un-language.
A throb of essence surfaces
when I am alone
or when my spirit feels
another loved spirit pass by.
Because that essence has no language
it cannot be a construct,
for language is the construct
that all other generalizations are built from.
But I AM
With no categories
No labels
No words

You and Me

"What's the verdict?"
"I have to leave wherever we are by ten thirty."
"You don't sound happy. That's later than usual."
"I hate living at home."
"I'm sorry. I love you."
"Where do you want to go?"
"I don't care. You're the boss."
What day is it and in what month? This clock never seemed so alive.
"So, how was your day."
"It was awful!"
"Oh, what happened?"
"My jerk-face English teacher was bashing on Mormons again."
"Do you want me to beat him for you?"
"Yes."
"Okay. What else happened today?"
"My dad, mostly. I hate my parents!"
"What did he do?"
"Oh, just the usual, being a jerk."
"I'm sorry. I love you. Do you want me to beat him for you?"
"Something like that."
"Where are we going."
"Somewhere exciting."
I can't keep up and I can't back down. I've been losing so much time.
"Can you see them?"
"See what?"
"Look, there's hundreds of albinos, and the regular rainbows are further out."
"Wow! I might actually catch something this time."
"It's so cool."
"Look at them swim up to the shore. I could probably catch them with my bare hands."
"I love you."
"Yeah, but I love you more."
"Oh really? Prove it."
'Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do, nothing to lose.
"Hey, Mike, I have a present for you."
"Oh, that's lovely."
"Here you go."
"Aww! Don't get it in my face."
"Why not? You put nastier stuff in your mouth all the time."
"Oh, you're funny."
"I love you, Mr. Harris."
"I love you, Miss Peck."
"Woah, Hey! I got one!"
"Hey, Hey, look at that. That's a good sized one."
"Can we keep it?"
"Uh, why?"
"We can give it to my parents."
"I left my creel in the car."
"Go get it."
"Ugg! Fine."
"I love you."
"Mrr mrr mrr I love you, too."
There's you and me, and all other people, and I don't know why. I can't keep my eyes off of you. "Where are you going?"
"I wanna catch one of those gold fish."
"Why? You can't eat them."
"I don't like fish anyway. I just want to catch a gold fish."
"Hey, you're cheating."
"No I'm not. They're not biting. Snagging isn't illegal."
"Yeah, but it's cheating."
"Why? Because I'm catching them and you're not?"
"Something like that."
"I love you."
"You'd better."
"Oh, I do."
All of the things that I wanna say just ain't commin' out right. I'm trippin' on words, you got my head spinnin', I don't know where to go from here.
"Hey Mike, I have another present for you."
"Grr, take it off the hook yourself."
"Nooo. It's slimy and icky."
"It's a good thing you're cute."
"Why? Would you not love me so much if I weren't cute?"
"No, I would just kick your butt."
"No you wouldn't."
"Mrr mrr mrr."
"I love you."
Something about you now, I can't quite figure out.
"Are you bored yet?"
"No, are you?"
"Kind of, but it's okay."
"We can go if you're bored."
"We can stay a little longer. I'm okay."
"Okay, if you get cold just tell me and we'll go."
"Hey honey, I'm cold."
"Do you want my jacket?"
"Thanks."
"Hey honey, I'm hungry. Can I eat you?"
"Um no."
"Aww! Why not?"
"I do not think I would taste good."
"I've tasted you before. I think you taste good."
"Oh Awkward. I love you."
Everything she does is beautiful. Everything she does is right.
"How are you?"
"I'm cold."
"Huh! Fine, I'll start packing up."
"Thank you."
"It's a good thing you're cute."
"I know."
"Just one more cast."
"Yulla yulla! You're pokey slow!"
"Patience woman."
"Let me in. Let me in. It's cold. Let me in"
"I'm commin'."
"Brrr!"
"Now where are we going?"
"Where do you want to go? You're the boss."
"I don't care."
You and me and all of the people with nothing to do and nothing to prove. You and me and all of the people and I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you.
"Hey, Mike, guess what!"
"What?"
"I still love you."
"Oh good."
What day is it and in what month? This clock never seemed so alive.

Untitled

Inside my mind
Hate feeds on my forgiveness
It cripples my logic
and causes my head to burn
Inside my heart
Love protects
not only myself
It grows with each word
And heals all it stretches
to touch.
On occasion
Heart and head seem to agree
But in the very act, contrast
Together they cry
To correct

Little Brothers Say the Sweetest Things

I came across this quote in a journal entry about Homecoming. "I'm just imagining it (my dress) on you and my imagining is beautiful because you're beautiful and it's beautiful." -Richard Tyler Peck

This is one I did several years ago. It needs to be de-cheesefied, but the idea is good. Eternity sounds so distant/ Years conflict with dreams/ The future is a mystery/ We know what's right, for now/ I place my heart in God's hands/ and pray he'll give it back to you