Wednesday, August 31, 2011

What Can't Be Bought

Inheritance is a funny double edged sword. In a good light it can be seen with utter gratitude and relief. But, let the dark cloud cast its shadow and it becomes blood money, a benefit from death, from opportunities missed elsewhere. A hard swallowed guilt accompanied by memories and questions unanswered.

And because the proprietor of such funds is not around to thank, one can feel an insurmountable guilt and host of emotions. The gamut of feelings from great to shit-faced. Only then does the real responsibility begin.

You can do what you want, but then what is that exactly? When it's never been an option before you might find that you've never taken the time to answer the question. This is as new of a proposition to you as a strategic, happy life behind a white picket fence with cloth diapers dangling from the clothes line.

I don't fucking know.

Or do I?

I will buy that bed I've needed for most of the year that won't hurt my back. I'll take care of business necessities and personal qualms but those aren't as important...they've waited this long.

The word 'Need' hits me with a sideswipe and all i can think of is what i would buy for you.

I'd buy you a top of the line, Versace brand gilt plated set of wings to wear. I'd beam at the purchase as you looked at me with a half smirk and said, "Amy, comfort..." soooo, I'd settle on silver and fleece. I'd point happily at the diamond studded pumps as you casually moved my pointer finger over to the more logical, leather-clad Birkenstocks of which i would relent. I'd pick out one in every color ( like you use to have).

In my exuberant frustration i would turn you around and say with persistent eyes, "Mom, you deserve the best." and you wouldn't miss a beat then as you smiled casually and stated, "I had it."

Oh, but that is only a foolish girl's need to believe! in lieu of knowing the truth. The Truth.

Mama didn't raise no fool.

Diamond pumps and gold plated wings aside, I really only want to buy time. With You.

I want your time. I'm able to pay $1,000 a minute. We have to make it quick Mom.

I grab for you like the last ice cream offered at a state fair on a 100 degree day. I would spend every precious second trying to be half of what you were to me. I'd simply hold onto you and be there. Holding and waiting. Remember .....? The time you came back from a Chemo appointment to find me curled up on your bed crying? There you were, depleted and wrung dry and somehow found the energy to sit down and crush me to your chest in the tightest hug as I selfishly cried. I'll never forget that feeling. How did you have that? That surge of force that shouldn't have existed and yet did. Because you loved me. You passed something to me then and there that I'd buy all the time in the world to repay if i could.

Courage got its definition from you. That is the truth i know for sure. That is the bet i will put money on every time.

So in that blindingly perfect moment of holding onto you again I would shut the hell up and instead tell you everything through wordless exchange. It would equate to the most beautiful sunset on the Oregon Coast times ten. I wouldn't trade it for anything ever.


Then, the last minute buzzer would sound and I'd pull away only to wipe my eyes, hold your hands and pull out my utter best. There's no need to say what you already know, so instead I'd take that momentous time to infuse you with sheer joy and laughter.


I'd make you laugh..... That was always my favorite thing. Whole heartedly, from the belly, tear stained eyes - yes, i would. I'd make you laugh harder than you ever had. The lines around your soft eyes would crinkle, your stomach would ache and you'd beg me to stop. The tears would be escaping your eyes as mine did as well. The moment would glisten in perfection. Life would be as wide as the universe.

I'd catch you then - in silver fleece wings and purple Birkenstocks smiling so hard your eyes were bursting with the bright sun. And you'd fade slowly - like an old black and white movie nearing the end...

I would turn, into the blinding sun your eyes left behind, rattling an empty lined pocket with a melancholy smile. Only then, only T h e n...would I be the richest person alive.















Monday, August 8, 2011

Dirty

Treachery bound
In turbulent war
Seek solace in flags of white
Rest a spell
Take up your hell
On another doom filled night
Revel in the rapture
Of simple peace
Plant an orchard
Flower your foe
Instead with arms of ease
Water the weeds
And yank them at root
Begin your garden again
No one will know
That well made boot
Was ever caked in sin.

Leave It As You Found It

Leave it as you found it
Or better if you strive -
Leave ones print on memory
Minimize need while alive

Leave it as you found it
It all coped without you
Damage not what isn't yours
Some things one can't undo

Leave it as you found it
Mother Earth isn't ours to keep
The trail you leave
Will lead to your kids
And haunt you in your sleep -

Leave it as you find  it
Your good acts and voice will seed
And grow in others to carry them on
Your worth will only succeed.









Questionaire









Debonair debauchery

Taints the air you cut

You pierce each sense

With a saccharine sword

Ravaging heart and gut

Never a simple dove..

Innocence etched

Betwixt layers of love -

You bruise a path of serpents

Slithering into a crimson heart

Dripping false bravado

Inside a hopeless start

Trip my tipsy reverie

Malign my mind complete

Relinquish my wish

To fully digest

Your soul at its fullest speak

I crawl across dunes of desert

To seek you dry at the well

And console myself at the pulpit
Of your masochistic hell.