the chair too teensy
yet made immense by enthusiasm
(like life)
eleven elbows and twelve knees, it seemed
i paid a burdened price for my gaffes
yet decided to surrender to yes
instincts certain, my mind girded with laughter
fused into the chair
interlocking and surprising pieces
murmurs, whispers
time postponed yet winged
the chair, both metaphor and corporeal
you can fit if you will it
you can find a place for your too much or extra
and let the river of wrong
flow anew
just sit
X
Well, I wrote a country song, if you can believe it. The song is just banjo, piano, and guitar; the guitar is loosely tuned to mimic a banjo’s jangly feel. It’s an imagined moment, making it more tangible than a memory. One of these days, I will sing it, though your ears might protest.
Try This On For Sighs
I turned on the radio, hearing lyrics nostalgic and free
Conway, George, and Charlie telling us simple stories
invoking us to live by life’s happy and simple decree
family to give us community
friends to give us companionship
and one to share our vulnerable soul
come here and try this on for sighs
you don’t need money, cars, or clothes
discard the disguise and guarded pose
let your heart and body murmur its song
find the enthusiastic arms where you belong
I walked by the closet, you standing like a dare
facing the mirror, nimble bare feet on the floor
black dress draped against your body, shoulders bare
the memory of your departed mom flooding your candid eyes
I could picture both of you silhouetted there, and still
your shared beauty an ongoing and persistent surprise
your chin and neck trembled with the painful past
you turned and smiled willfully in my direction
knowing I witnessed the overlap of time, recast
you tossed the garment aside, your eyes locked and wide
“Come here, and try this on for sighs,” you whispered
as the invisible music played, our bodies erased the divide
come here and try this on for sighs
you don’t need money, cars, or clothes
discard the disguise and guarded pose
let your heart and body murmur its song
find the enthusiastic arms where you belong
In the small space of a closet, time slowed, then stopped
as we laughed, elbows bumping as we twirled
in that closet, the entire volume of the world
….as we sang…
come here and try this on for sighs
you don’t need money, cars, or clothes
discard the disguise and guarded pose
let your heart and body murmur its song
find the enthusiastic arms where you belong
I haven’t finished the melody, but I wrote this song, something I haven’t done in a long time. When I finished, I realized that it could be both spiritual plea or a personal promise. For those whose lives are filled with God, let that be your premise. For those who love, may this be your optimism and purposeful promise of anticipation of another day. And for those souls who have both? Stand together and watch the sunrise, if you can.
Or the sunset. And be renewed. – X
.
.
hallelujah hallelujah
I shall never know if you’re listening
only that I’m whispering the words
That my life not be made easier
only fuller and always in anticipation
I don’t want to know the obstacles
nor the slap of who will precede me
only that I’ll have one more variable day
before the shadows grow feet and approach me
I make this unrequested promise to you
let me arise and see the sunrise, anew
just one more time, one more snapshot
another measure of loving enduring optimism
and if you do, I vow to sing
hallelujah, hallelujah
not for me, but for you
hallelujah, hallelujah
I shall never know if you’re listening
only that I’m whispering the words
hallelujah, hallelujah
.
Love, X
.
P.S. The picture is two superimposed pictures of a man celebrating both sunrise and sunset. Because the sun never sets upon the Earth, only upon our eyes. So much of us is limited to our narrow perspective, and we grow to trust only the things we can touch – instead of the things we can feel and experience.
things often go awry, as they so often do
that unimaginable morning, it was you
nine years my junior, with a lingering cough
your energy ebbed and your spirit diminished
i watched my love and life wither
it can’t get that bad, i foolishy hoped
life had a hard lesson for me, again
i sat on the floor next to you
our albino cat standing guard,
as he had all night
before i made the horrible call
life had fled, from you, from me
promises made, hopes shared
became mist and floated away
a little piece of me stayed there, forever
another piece of me, the vibrancy you shared
found a way forward
i can’t believe i’m still standing
filled with love, expanding
sometimes, in moments
i’m back there, remembering the lesson
you said i was love
even in impatience
“my muffin,” you teased
and I? pleased
i try to remember the helplessness
hopelessness and despair
not to drown in them, no
but to live the knowledge
that we’re all closer than we think
it’s all here or gone in a blink
in those crevices of experience
we thrive or subside
with each new self-genesis
i take a long moment
to swallow the risk
and i remember
life knocks, i answer
it is not a question
it is life, moving
Love, X
.
I’ve been challenged to write away from my moment-in-time or descriptive method – while still using emotion and moments. I wouldn’t call it poetry, so I’ll coin the word Xprosition.
*
Beep Beep
Beep beep, she repeated
my enthusiastic outstretched arms fell lifeless to my sides
and my heart was abruptly worn and defeated
the beep beep on the surface was sugary and benign
under the surface, though, it was by design
not that it was unfamiliar, this scarcity of plenty
but somehow, it was one time too many
how can affection willingly offered be too much
who among us has a full bank of stored love
it has to be replenished
never diminished
never quite finished
and who better to bank it than someone you love
i will keep my hands to my side for a while
but they are designed to reach out, to grasp, to hold
one day soon, perhaps, I’ll be bold
now, at this moment, my affection disposed
i bit my tongue, swallowed my words
avoiding truth, rejecting loneliness
self-confined behind impossible curbs
alone, though in company, inert arms at my side
the lesson taught again
yet seldom applied:
love is always enough if expressed honestly
affection is never authentically rejected
presence and proximity are not congruent
speak your heart and strive to be fluent
if the arms you seek do not open or smile
do not lose hope
reveal who you are
in time, place, and circumstance
another dance
perchance
beep, beep
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 