Fire Starter

Love without reason

be in love

as a choice.

drop by drop

sample by sample

the cistern fills with refreshing experience

savor

a vintage spirit 

a sweet confection

life sustaining preference

Abandon attending the whispered need

to own the subjective thrill

surrender to the exquisite 

feel splendor

petty concerns

eclipsed by presence

share your joy

as a sacred gift

from you.

absent of deserving

or questioned worthy.

in this way

nurture warmth

to dispel an image

of a callous, cold hearted world

yes

embrace your natural talent

as

fire starter

Boy's Market

  When I was ten years old, my best friend at the time, Peter Bishop, and I walked from where we lived, to a rural store about a mile from our sub-division called Boys Market.  He told me a joke while we were walking back that had caught me so unprepared, that it made root beer foam spew out my noses when I laughed. It burned so bad, to this day I can still vividly recall that moment. I saw stars skyrocket behind my eyes when that happened.  I choked on life...I was liberated from anything but that tsunami of foamy laughter gushing out my nostrils.  It wasn't the last time something would catch me so unaware.

   As the years collected, the unexpected continued to perform hi- jinks on my order of the universe.  I was often left feeling embarrassed for not seeing the change coming until after it was obvious.  It continued to feel humiliating; I felt naked, dull witted and quite ordinary. 

   I saw Pete Bishop at our thirtieth year High School reunion. The discussions lingered on revisited antics of our way-back-then’s, or floundered on our real-now cloudy issues of present living.  We were solemn when we were told about whom in our class had died. I would close my eyes and try to remember what they looked like, I wasn't too successful.  Then I thought, you know....when its Pete Bishop's turn, and I happen to be the one still around, I'm going to try and make someone laugh; yeah, someone whose drinking root beer too; to try and make foam come out their nose ~ as a tribute.  Because of all the lessons I've learned and have forgotten, as painful as some had been, I found out something I didn't want to ever forget.

If you're lucky, life will give you plenty of chances for you to laugh so hard you can't get it all out with trying. Peter helped me that day by delivering quality of laughter like there was nothing more important.

I have never laughed so hard since. 

Post note:  The photograph is nothing like the market I referred to in my tale, I'm not that old.  Even when I feel ancient, I'm still from the age of automobiles.

Icarus Falling

I didn’t know what to say

I had feelings

I couldn’t put them to words

an unpredictable sense of being confounded

by the moment

taken by surprise more than being unfamiliar

Initially I wasn’t going to acknowledge it

I chose to dig my hands deep into pockets

appear to be thinking on greater issues

mortified by my impoverished response

caught in the act

I pretend I wasn’t there

until much later

I found my voice

In the recriminations and regretted jetsam of missed chance

I write about it

for absolution

explaining with aid of grammar

you as the subject

The raw truth is embarrassment

basic undiluted

unbiased fact

leave quantifiable truth for another day

sad in having no power to change anything

nothing to relieve pain

I took on a reoccurring nightmare

public inadequacy

After all these years

I remain raw with habitual behavior

hubris dodging consequence

pushing parents

into owning debt