Made it back home
Between the here and gone
Left the hugs all alone
And then cogitated on them tears
So many beautiful spirits
Sitting right next to you
If you’d only let a clue
In through all those clutched tainted years
Finished the timesheet
Liz needs them in by noon
As Love walks in cartoon—
Hey, that Guinness makes some handsome beers
Allman Brothers swear its true
Twixt the done and the doggone
Tangled up in the lost and the only one
Have you really met your peers?
But the neurosis pales in the wash
And now sitting alone all by myself
It’s not so bad up here on the shelf
I’ve a smitten merlot, cheers!
–last day FullTime Social Worker at hospice. Moving on….
Dark chocolate covered cashews,
But that memory of how you smiled—
Cajun two-stepping waiting for the drawbridge to repair
As our young moment passed as away the nighttime wiled
And then how we drove slow on back to NOLA
After a gig lovely in bonny old Lafayette
As a southern full Moon stole peeks out of the clouds,
But that was the best that things would ever get
Even dark chocolate covered cashews
Cannot pause the runontape in my mind
Of the passion, the loss, and the lingering rancor—
Leftovers of a certain thin, hard, sad kind
Love arrives hot quick and ends up a wreck on the coast—
The pounding memories: a waif on a beach missing her shoes;
And the only thing one could right now want the most
Is drown out the empty with dark chocolate covered cashews
Fireflies soar high
Some give their greetings
Others flash goodbye
Never saw a firefly
Ever lose a tear
Never knew a firefly
To pass on a frothy root beer
Once knew a firefly
On the fo’c’s’le of my boat
He flashed most determinedly
On the port sleeve of my peacoat:
The firefly had lost his damsel
To a flea cur from Balmooth;
Much darkening his dazzle—
A sad, poor lad, forsooth.
Years later said sad firefly
Had found his own true bonny lass
Fluttering about the far fields
Gracing at yon Isinglass
Happily flashed my firefly
Brightly from his bum
Now this damsel bonny
Is his kids dazzle Mum
Fireflies soar high
Most give their greetings
The others flash your goodbye
Some poems are wine lyric
Two goblets Clos du Bois
Others are simple syrup
Just so much blah, blah, blah
Now some too-humble wrought lines—
An old wrenched heart softly pines
Heart-tears gathering inside
Aching to let go and fall;
Words mocking a conscience
Of feelings so cold t’would appall
Terpsichore blanches, and then wilts,
Suffers in her marble a new deep fault:
Who can answer for these deaths?
Young stars ripped from the celestial vault
Haruka and Meechaiel pas de deux—
What are we all ever going to do?
The pain lingers…
The words won’t come…
Broken thoughts slip chalky fingers;
The glib finally struck dumb
How to unsee a sunset?
How to unhear the rain?
Where do we put these feelings?
Where do we plant the pain?
A far lightening pirouettes across your glance—
Dance for Haruka, dear friends…just dance
Einaudi lingers on the stereo
As burnt chicken wafts thru the door
Happiness takes its turn to go
The reason why matters not any more
I’d give anything for one more chance
But life’s not as easy as a Cajun dance
Tomorrow will be a lesser day
Twas oft told to watch what you say
The cat wants to so go outside
As paltry aromas scale thru a crack
Nuances are things I could never abide
And now she is another you’ll never get back
I’d give anything for just one more walk
But life’s much more than marbles and chalk
Dawn comes so early in the day
The sooner you’ll be off one might say
The keyboard rings out its golden tune
Time to drain a merlot glass quick
Bedtime approaches too ready and ever soon
Cat calls his return with condescension thick
Lonely and longing lie buried deep and strong
Life’s losses are worse when you know you’re wrong
Tomorrow will be another lesser day
A fresh curtain for any farce or threadbare play
The scarred foil yielded,
Merlot found the bottom where dregs lay;
A cork sealed again,
Words limbered as Fall rains fell all day.
No pictures were ever sent from Pearlington.
Another’s dream has left the Pass,
Uncommon memories fade;
Time to refill one’s paisley-stained glass.
The black cat dropped down
Licking a lank paw;
A last leaf spirals to stillness
Alone in Death’s maw.
That chill in the middle of the back
Mocks the dread in your gut;
The screech-shriek died in a jaw slack;
Not in fear, twas anything but.
A stab of lightening you will recall,
Lit the surprise awaiting us all—
Jezebel was alive!
Then, your last fall.
It was just a simple October,
A parceled out poor Saturday.
A scandal of rains hung low,
But things were going your way.
Of course you were invited!
You’d bought that ruby bottle;
The costume party hinted promise,
And the fun engine roared to full throttle.
The storm rains had burst forth
As all the corks let fly.
Twas warm in the foyer
And your love you did espy.
The oriel would be deserted,
So Jezebel led you away:
Promises yielded to plea;
Yes, you could stay.
Upriver the dam was holding
As the partygoers were off at last.
Yes, alone with your Jezebel—
Passion unleashed as costumes off-cast.
But no one heard the rush…
Addams’ Dam was no more.
The wall of water they say
Was high—35 feet or two score.
Awakening drowning atumble,
You and Jezebel tried to cling to bedclothes,
But no succor there would be found;
Swept away as flood’s torrent flows.
Finding at long last each other;
Fear full afloat while loss uplifted;
The roar of the Onion Falls called.
You knew, only one can be shifted.
Grabbing Jezebel one time last,
You kicked for the nearing shore.
Flinging with all your might…
Her lips never to taste evermore.
A stab of lightening lit your Jezebel:
Safe on a branch was your fair miss—
She made it!
She reached… as you embraced the abyss.
Witches each year prowl the precincts
In company with jack-o’-lantern’s snarl obscene.
But things won’t ever be the same,
Not for Jezebel’s Halloween.
Back down around the ole oaken bridge,
Hazel and I tried really, really long
To cross together over that forever ever ridge,
Separating Love from the rest of the wrong,
But handily, hardly, barely, we surely did fail—
Living on so as to shame the curse.
Corked wine and rained out Saturdays
Don’t hurt near as much as her sad, sweet smile.
Tis trying to find carpe diem all the while,
But there is banana bread, it remembers.
And it’s back down around that ole oaken bridge:
Where Hazel crossed over, and left me in tears,
Wallowing in the wrong;
Chasing the horror left over, numbed to us in years—
The creping ashes blew over acorns, the whole span long.
Back when I harbored dreams of happiness
I never knew someone like you could exist;
Now bereft of illusions of happily-ever-after
I have also lost you to the intangible mist.
Gray hairs belie verse-play at candor,
Dread of isolation my long sole companion;
Such chutzpah of thinking it possible—
To reach you across Love’s great canyon.
At best you’ll admit a charming acquaintance,
For which I can only ever be grateful;
Sparing you the hurt and the desperation
That leaves one piteous and hateful.
Now the sun rises cold though promising,
For the day is still young and carefree.
Are you returning to the far hill country?
Please convey wishes for well ease from me.