Awaiting Nightfall

Awaiting Nightfall

It's just a marsh
populated by tall reeds
with live oaks and willows
thick, along its perimeter.  

Dragon flies helicopter and dart
across and just above
the still, dark green water.

It is my place to watch the sun retire
glinting behind the tree line.

After sundown 
bullfrogs sing for free
in an all night serenade.

Cicadas join the frogs
adding their tenor to the bass line
and fireflies bring their genius
to the magic of the marsh. 

Someday, in the reach of the future
this marsh will become
an urban sacrifice
replaced with strip malls
or tract housing.

But for now
the marsh is mine.

Together we await nightfall

and the choir of the dark.  

Winding Road Ahead~~

The next three posts were written while listening to a morning and  afternoon filled with Chris Stapleton's tunes. They are raw and hardcore. The verses fall like acid rain, and burn like salt in an open wound. But that's okay. I knew what I was getting when I 'pulled the trigger.' Sometimes it's surprising what you find when you pry the lid off your heartaches. No apologies. Just a little sip of sour wine.

~ James 

No Twelve-Step

No Twelve-Step

Her memory was my gateway 
taking me deeper with the needle.
It's a futile desperation
and robs me

dimes and dollars

minutes, hours

days and years.

There never is any margin
kicking at these memories.
They only bring more heartache
than there are leaves in all the trees.

If feeling sorry for yourself
could draw a man his pay
I would buy myself a ticket
to anywhere outta here.

But I'll fire her into a mainline
and get that familiar burn.
There's no cure for this self-inflicted misery.
No twelve-step to freedom. 

 
 

Election Night Blues

Election Night Blues

Slumped down in my leather chair
and sippin' sweet iced tea
thinkin' 'bout where the world went
and glad it ain't because of me.

No sir, I don't need the worry
of hopin' this world turns around.
If I were God, I'd turn the dogs loose
and tree this mess with hell's hounds.

I'm lookin' out my dirty window
and watching this thing circle the drain.
When it finally all goes down
it'll go screamin' in mortal pain.

I guess I'll go down with it.
I'm a part of this crazy zoo.
But lookin' straight in your eyes
I see you're goin' too!

In the Weeds

In the Weeds

It goes down hot and hollow
and leaves a knot deep in my gut.
It makes me act the fool
and strands me in a rut.

I've never said an intelligent word
when I'm in the weeds like this.
There is no understanding
wisdom that flees like morning mist.

So, spare me your heartfelt sympathy
and your sincere pats upon the back.
It's not what you say, but what you do
that shows me what you lack. 

I believe I'll just sit right here
and enjoy my rot-gut misery. 
But try me again tomorrow
and we'll see what we shall see.

When...

when the mountains scrape the clouds
do they wear away to dust?
when a lover leaves the beloved
do they learn to never trust?

when the midnight highway disappears
beyond the headlight beams
does the visible world vanish
and nothing is as it seems?

when a lost love won't leave you
and her memory won't give you peace
does the harsh light of a new day
forbid those memories cease?

when a child slips on the sidewalk
and suffer a scraped and bloody knee
will they take undue caution
and refuse to trust what they see?

when the preponderance of sorrows
drain all life's fullness from my days
will i lose myself in darkness
in the thunder and the haze?

Master of the Obvious...#66

Pessimism is only pessimism when it's untrue.
 

Fire Fall

i have been under quarantine 
for most of all my years
sequestered behind stone walls
alone with all my tears.

i am the 'weeping prophet'
a man of constant sorrow.
i've had a chance to read ahead
and i know what's on the 'morrow.'

it's darkening like clouds of locusts
and it's riding on the wind.
it's grinding like an engine
and it's looming like the end.

there's no merit in revelation.
there's no need to stir your fears.
this day is all we've got.
tomorrow, the end of years.

i keep my pearls safely guarded.
you won't believe me anyway.
but count your years in hours
and when the fire falls, look away.

my mission

sheep have followed me
since i was a teenager
trying hard to please the eyes
of the elders watching me.

along the pathway they conferred on me
certain papers
testifying to other elders
i am leadership material.
untold hours of late night studies
and tens of thousands of road miles
in pursuit of qualification 
eventually earned me certain letters
before my name.

and the sheep i was given
rested each evening
in the shelter my hands prepared.
and each evening i felt the approval
of the One i served
though often the sheep bleated their displeasure
within the confines of their safety
and provision.
no matter, that.
i was never in their employ
though they thought otherwise.

i took those letters seriously
and eventually burned through my health
and the devotion of my family
who left me the way shadows flee 
thunderstorms.

yet, i have those letters
though i long-ago lost the papers.
nobody asks for them any longer.
if you cannot determine a man's value
by the caliber of his soul
papers will tell you nothing.

and now, i near the end of things.
i measure time remaining 
at best
in the margins of several calendar pages
or at least
in the lithium battery in my clock.

no matter.
i have kept the faith.
i have completed my course.
and laid up for me
is the approval of my Captain. 

he will not ask my papers
or test the odometer to determine
the truth of my journey.
he will, rather usher me into my rest
and confer upon me
one final appropriation...
his mark upon my forehead.

and i will finally have completed 
my mission.
i will have arrived home. 

a ragamuffin

He was older than I
by many years
and from another faith
but his lips poured truth 
in abundance.

he called himself
a "Ragamuffin"
and i thought the description apt.

if Brendan wrote it I read it.

Brendan hobbled on unsteady legs
made weaker by alcohol.
those who loved Brendan
loved him all the more for it.

It seemed he faded
before our uncomprehending eyes.
His addiction took him
and he was no more.

I am rereading what he left us.
not even full grain alcohol
can blot the truths he poured forth
like sweet benediction.

every man's passing
ought give us clearer perception.
Brendan's addiction made me wonder
what people will say of me when I go.

Perhaps:
he was a good writer, but...
he was a good teacher, but...
he was a wonderful companion, but...

The greatest truth Brendan left me is that 
I too, am a ragamuffin.

PLEASE REMEMBER...

We are stronger than this virus. It will perish and retreat into history. But we, as humanity, will prevail. I don't care (in as much as this truth is concerned) whether you hold a Bible or an AK47, one day you will remember this terrible pandemic. We will overcome. Take heart, dear reader. Do not despair. Hold your ground, even if it's just 800 square feet of hovel. 

Today a Muslim called me to wish me a happy Easter. I do not think he would have done so had not the reality of our mortality built a bridge of good will. Good things are coming. Believe it. Wait for it. 

This I know is true......James
 

My Truth

I have treasure I've buried
and a verse that I keep.
I'm a pirate and poet
and I rarely can sleep.

I'm both lover and hater
and often don't know what I feel
I'm up to the hubs
and uncertain what is real.

If you ask me I'll tell you
even if I have to make it up.
I'm both turtle and coyote.
I'm a tiger, but then, just a pup.

I've been down every road
both gravel and interstate.
Life has taught me to keep moving
and always underestimate.

You may think me strange
and more than a little odd
but I've always known my structure
made from iron and sod.

I am, by definition, a mystery
and can be hard to pin down.
You may look for my smile
but I'll burn you with my frown.

A paradox is what I am.
I'm a human, just like you.
My truth is not always in what I say.
My truth is in what I do.

Just Between Us.................

We've all been thinking. Most of us pray, too. Global difficulty is no stranger to our world, but it's not been as "in our face" as it is now. We have discussed pandemics. But we never actually thought it would arrive.

People are dying of this coronavirus every day. Every hour. Who knows the toll it will take. We keep our interval between us and others, wear masks, wash our hands until they are wrinkled and still there is a chance one little piece of bacteria so small only microscopes can see it, will get through your layers of protection, and now you're a statistic. Only fools are not afraid.

I have nothing new to tell you. But I want to use my tiny platform to hope the best for you. I encourage you to follow all the precautions provided by officials and medical staffs. But I want to go a step further and encourage you to get with God. Seek him out. He is ever-present. He encourages us to not lean upon our own understanding, but to trust in Him, and all our needs will be provided.

I am praying for you. We can do this. Do not surrender. The battle is the Lords!

~ James