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Monthly Archives: August 2012

Craig

I’m looking at the half-full
glass of black IPA. The waitress
asked me what I wanted
and I pointed to my friend’s beer
saying, “I’ll have that,”
and reached over, moving it
in front of me, taking a sip and
my friend laughed, as he does
each time I do that and
I do that most weeks
but still, He laughs
deeply, fully, and I don’t know why.

Wings are on the way,
smoky and flavorful,
delicious, the best either of us
has had, but no matter,
as we have shared awful meals
and laughed as we wrote
reviews, and blogs, and notes
back and forth, children at school
misbehaving,
sharing a secret joke.

Waitresses giggle
at the easy show,
back and forth,
sit and listen to the
repartee honed over
time and needing no practice,
we should
take it on the road,
we are told.

Finishing each other’s sentences,
like, (how did this happen?)
an old married couple,
speaking in code,
few words,
everything said.

And all things
he knows, as
I can tell him anything,
tell him everything,
and I do,
without reservation,

But still,
our brains are different
even when drumming,
or singing songs
few people seem to know,
while I know his heart,
it is hard to say how.

Though he has saved me
many times,
some unknown
I am sure,
I cannot always say,
or in a way that is clear
for the deeper feelings
are those which must travel
farthest, through the most
sediment of years, lives,
walls erected, fortifications
which can be breached only with
love, and I search for the words
to breach the battlement
but I haven’t
the ammunition.

I can write verse of the moon,
and love, desire and connection,
romance and flesh
for the fairer sex,
but all I can write
for you is this poem.

It will have to suffice.

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Posted by on August 28, 2012 in Culture, Family, Social

 

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I Drown

World-weary Angel
ill of this earth
(full) of l(i)o(f)ve
and l(i)oving
in the moment
as the need
taking every hit
this world has
and still open
Angel with your
(he)art and wiles
designed for
dreams and
intoxication and
how do you do it
Angel? Melt the
soul of one
who needs melting
heal the
spirit of one
who needs healing
whole (s)he
who is broken
throw the life preserver
even as you sink
and smile and know
for love
to drown is joy.

I drown in love
Angel and I
live.

 
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Posted by on August 27, 2012 in Poetry, Uncategorized

 

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Preparing a Meal

(All life, every encounter, each moment, pleasant, unpleasant, “pure” or “impure,” may be transformed into a spiritual event. All life is tantra.)

Early evening.
Empty house.

I hear nothing
but the smooth separation
of snow pea from stem,
knife rolling against board
in rhythm,
and the low hum of the refrigerator.

Among the small piles of vegetables,
onions, mushrooms, garlic,
and a small hill of fish,
I discern origin from end.

All to become a meal
designed for how it will feel on the fork,
attract the eye,
appeal to the soul,
sustain the body.

Another day, another meal,
and
I am grateful
for the destruction and death
which precedes creation.

 
 

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Video

Bud the Spud – The Video!

My newest book, “Bud the Spud,” is available now on Amazon and at your local bookstores. Here is a video for the book and, soon, an audiobook with music by Brevard Busking Coalition.

 
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Posted by on August 12, 2012 in Books, Writing

 

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