Lovers too.
The woman in hospice, who will miss her hands. Her body.
"I don't have a choice. Even after the arguments with God. I must give it up."
Fresh Air
Chaplain On Living
Leonard Cohen
Monday, October 31, 2016
Friday, September 30, 2016
Intersections Across Stories
I wonder if this story is ALSO about M. (The Lyme Disease Guy with Blue)
Or about T (The Machine), Imaginary Friend.
Because when you ask someone about the edges of their sanity, you are bound to find some unsettling pieces.
M is alone, the ice cream , the accident, the toothbrush.
T is so uptight, so serious, but he can laugh. There is a crack in there somewhere.
Or about T (The Machine), Imaginary Friend.
Because when you ask someone about the edges of their sanity, you are bound to find some unsettling pieces.
M is alone, the ice cream , the accident, the toothbrush.
T is so uptight, so serious, but he can laugh. There is a crack in there somewhere.
Wednesday, August 31, 2016
People Going Crazy
They are all around us.
People who may or may not have a mental issue.
Brain chemistry and wiring, PTSD or difficult memories.
Bad experiences that create other bad experiences going forward for other people.
We are on this giant marble, a bunch of tinier marbles, careening into each other. And sometimes causing sparks.
There once was a very talented songwriter, who took the wrong drug and never came back.
Of course, it happens a lot, more than we realize. Every beautiful and creative flower, every poetic phrase, every explosion of energy that comes out in a beautiful way....there is an equal and opposite reaction somewhere waiting for us in the future.
At least for those of us who are marked/diagnosed.
People who may or may not have a mental issue.
Brain chemistry and wiring, PTSD or difficult memories.
Bad experiences that create other bad experiences going forward for other people.
We are on this giant marble, a bunch of tinier marbles, careening into each other. And sometimes causing sparks.
There once was a very talented songwriter, who took the wrong drug and never came back.
Of course, it happens a lot, more than we realize. Every beautiful and creative flower, every poetic phrase, every explosion of energy that comes out in a beautiful way....there is an equal and opposite reaction somewhere waiting for us in the future.
At least for those of us who are marked/diagnosed.
Saturday, July 30, 2016
Your Ghost Songs Still Haunt Me
Everytime I hear a song that reminds me of you, or think of a place that I associate with you, I am taken back.
Little Green Cars
Oh, no, I'll never go back there no more
NIWS/LIWNMTS
Please Read the Letter
Even though I know you have moved on, and are living somewhere in Africa, I still think of your bust of Mozart. And the sunshiney yellow walls of your apartment. And that couch. And that time she dressed in black.
I still think of the dragon, and the lake, and how easy it would be for us to take a day to walk around the Pond. And all those moments in between, when you lock yourself in your closet, in the dark, to keep yourself away from me. When the danger takes over.
I'm still waiting for you (even if I don't seem to be). Which drives me crazy. Can I wait and both not wait for you? Have I already moved on?
Little Green Cars
Oh, no, I'll never go back there no more
NIWS/LIWNMTS
Please Read the Letter
Even though I know you have moved on, and are living somewhere in Africa, I still think of your bust of Mozart. And the sunshiney yellow walls of your apartment. And that couch. And that time she dressed in black.
I still think of the dragon, and the lake, and how easy it would be for us to take a day to walk around the Pond. And all those moments in between, when you lock yourself in your closet, in the dark, to keep yourself away from me. When the danger takes over.
I'm still waiting for you (even if I don't seem to be). Which drives me crazy. Can I wait and both not wait for you? Have I already moved on?
Your Ghost Songs Still Haunt Me
Everytime I hear a song that reminds me of you, or think of a place that I associate with you, I am taken back.
Little Green Cars
Oh, no, I'll never go back there no more
NIWS/LIWNMTS
Please Read the Letter
Even though I know you have moved on, and are living somewhere in Africa, I still think of your bust of Mozart. And the sunshiney yellow walls of your apartment. And that couch. And that time she dressed in black.
I still think of the dragon, and the lake, and how easy it would be for us to take a day to walk around the Pond. And all those moments in between, when you lock yourself in your closet, in the dark, to keep yourself away from me. When the danger takes over.
I'm still waiting for you (even if I don't seem to be). Which drives me crazy. Can I wait and both not wait for you? Have I already moved on?
Little Green Cars
Oh, no, I'll never go back there no more
NIWS/LIWNMTS
Please Read the Letter
Even though I know you have moved on, and are living somewhere in Africa, I still think of your bust of Mozart. And the sunshiney yellow walls of your apartment. And that couch. And that time she dressed in black.
I still think of the dragon, and the lake, and how easy it would be for us to take a day to walk around the Pond. And all those moments in between, when you lock yourself in your closet, in the dark, to keep yourself away from me. When the danger takes over.
I'm still waiting for you (even if I don't seem to be). Which drives me crazy. Can I wait and both not wait for you? Have I already moved on?
Thursday, June 30, 2016
Sandy and sexy
A picture from the beach 3 or 4 years ago, NJ shore.
That boy who has glasses now, and who graduated from 6th grade?
And has 2 little baby siblings.
What a different world.
and the Beethoven statue and the baby grand and the gold walls.
And the closet with the scars
And the bed and the leather
And the record of the Moody Blues.
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Wandering in Werifesteria
There be dragons.
Wander around the Pond. Where are the fairytales?
It is you/we/us who make them up!
The railroad reigns us in
This is the story of 100 summers and more
And all the other forests, all look alike, except in different ways. The challenge is to be lost and found again, to recognize all the trees.
Our days are all alike, except they are all now.
Every tree has its own character, imagine them as people, or as ghosts, or as beings.
There was a time when most of Concord was clear-cut. When trees were firewood, waiting for the axeman's kill. But this was always a forest, Fairyland Pond stood guard.
What is at the bottom of this Pond? And will it ever reveal its secrets?
Wander around the Pond. Where are the fairytales?
It is you/we/us who make them up!
The railroad reigns us in
This is the story of 100 summers and more
And all the other forests, all look alike, except in different ways. The challenge is to be lost and found again, to recognize all the trees.
Our days are all alike, except they are all now.
Every tree has its own character, imagine them as people, or as ghosts, or as beings.
There was a time when most of Concord was clear-cut. When trees were firewood, waiting for the axeman's kill. But this was always a forest, Fairyland Pond stood guard.
What is at the bottom of this Pond? And will it ever reveal its secrets?
"werifesteria" is an obscure word from Old English.
"to wander longingly through the forest in search of mystery and adventure."
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