no title

I love you.

Simple words that could fly like a kite over to you.  But I have to keep my kite anchored and secured, otherwise it will fall.  So I keep it tight, and slowly raise it, and raise it, and raise it.  Holding the line close to my heart.  Hoping that it will rise high enough so that you can see it from where you are.  And maybe you'll catch a glimpse of it one day, and you'll think of me.

meh......

Straight ahead I see
Another building facing me.
And out on the left
A woman bereft.

The water lady
Screams her call.
No longer shady
Trees have succumbed to fall.

Trolley buses come
With their familiar hum.
They stall and wait
To pick up their freight.

The woman I cannot see
Collects everyone's fee.
Later I will stand
Holding the bar with my hand.

bike ride

let's go

you're all invited

handhold

Climb
Boulder
Start down squat
Keep arms relaxed
Let your legs work
Search 'round for holds

You wish for a handhold
And how

Scrape
your hands countless times over rocks
Blister
your fingers
Attempt
to maintain a grip

Thrill and
Exhilaration
Build with
Each
Problem
Solved

Done for the day
Problems on the wall solved
Problems in the head still squirm
What now

All you want now
All you need now

Someone else's hand
A handhold for two

It won't break open your skin
It won't leave you hanging

As long as you hold on

at least it's something, eh?

"You see,
I don't believe that libraries

should be drab places where

people sit in silence,
and that's been the main reason
for our policy
of employing wild animals
as librarians...."
-Monty Python

Don't Go Far Off: Pablo Neruda

Don't go far off, not even for a day, because --
because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?



I adore this poem, ah! Thought I'd share.

an old story from the boy who's coming home and me

Andrew's writing is blue. Mine is green. We wrote this during church, if I recall correctly, sometime in 2007. We could only see the third line of what the other had written and would then add on our own three lines.

Saving Leeches
His helmet shone brightly through the
night sky. It was a beacon of hope
to all who saw it. It created a feeling of
euphoria and everyone was seized with a desire
to strip off their socks and raise them
like flags to the sun. They took off their socks
and wiggled their toes in the sand
and then they lifted them above
their heads swinging them in a
fit of frenzy. Then they began to
run around in circles proclaiming their
intense hatred of the VP. They chanted
spells and brewed potions. Their
schooling at Hogwarts had definitely
paid off. They knew that
nothing could ever be the same. They
proceeded to sit down indian-style
(how racist is that?) on the grass to
the yellow brick road. They
called it that because it led to
China. (How racist is that?) It led them
to the great wall where they marched
for miles until their feet bled. They
mourned for their socks and wiped the blood
from the rocks. Their goal was
to collect enough blood to help save
the most endangered species of leeches.
They gathered the blood and performed the
necessary transfusions. The leeches smiled with life.