Unfinished Thought

Embracing the remotest of possibilities
In a congested and complicated vision of time
Of relevant and irrelevant dreams and moments
Of those burdens and myths facing down reality
You were in the eye of every storm

The Freshman

Blurred face in a crowd
Among a gathering of relative strangers
Posing for documentation of their presence in that moment
In that transitional place
Away from home and its comforts
Away from all that you previously knew
But one would never know of the uncertainty felt

This was a response to my presence in a group photo for the residents of the dormitory I lived in, Freshman year (1974-75) at Oregon State University. I was there in the photo, face blurred, surrounded by people that I barely knew and looking like we were one happy group. 

It Ends

I'm not sure
Let's call it a hundred years
A dozen nicknames
We laughed and argued
Occasionally failed to agree
The daily crossword puzzles
The daily updates on children
I watched yours grow and fly
The passing of parents
And now it ends
It's like it just begun
I didn't want to say goodbye
Thought I could hide from it
Though I knew eventually I had to give in and emerge
Planned it for the last possible moment
So you'd remember
The closing memory
Then you changed the timeline
You were already gone as I arrived
All those shared years became an instant finale
Looking back ….. speechless how length became brevity
How is this possible?
A shared history passed in the blink of an eye
Time always has the final word
You always had the final word
And it now ends for ever
The time that once seemed without end
Now is immediately finite


July 2019

Becoming Known

The brief elusive visuals in unexpected places

Random appearances suggesting overflow possibilities

Where silence has reigned over lost and missing years

An unidentifiable presence

I now recognize as you

June 2019

Listening

I listen for you these days in the latest hours of the evening before the birds begin their morning songs when my ears are more open and my mind more settled when the ghosts have yet to rage and the moon has yet to fade before all the chaos begins and the memories regain their sting from the nearly frozen altitudes of our abbreviated past existence

Somewhere in that smoke and mist you may still be waiting I claim that possibility I never closed that door I never forgot our oath never losing hope


May 2019

Untitled

While seeking to maintain connection
You were gone in an instant of stagnation and lust
A barometer for murky days
Muddled by conflict and doubts and the spectrum of emotions
Portrayed as harmless incidents
In the broader scope of our abbreviated existence
Lacking consistent measures of gratification
For those unfortunate souls
Whose destiny was ordained by past trials and trails
Of alternating darkness and light
We became only what we knew
Left potential unrealized
In the fear of those moments

I eventually made peace with the indiscretion
But how would you know?


May 2019

Reinventing Light

A poem by Michael Rattee from his 1986 book titled "Calling Yourself Home."

Reinventing Light

As a child I believed the birds
Reinvented light every morning
And during the day
It was slowly turned into ink
For the night to write stories with
I believed that until I was taught
It was all mechanics
And stories were written by people
Mostly older than ourselves
Some so old they couldn't be photographed
My teachers explained everything
But left the sadness out of it
That has remained with me
And this morning I watched the night
Run out of ink again and the birds
Come to inspect what was written