Tag: writer

Mush for Thanksgiving

crow14 Comments

So, before the day gets away from me completely and I slip into a carb/gravy/pie induced state of torpor, I just wanted to say, thank you.

I’m pretty technologically oriented. I’ve worked with computers in one way or another since I had the original Commodore Vic 20. If you had one when they came out, then you’re old like me. I wrote my first computer program by copying it out of a magazine, typing it into a BASIC compiler, and saving it to a cassette tape. Magazines, BASIC, cassettes… how Fred Flintstone can you get? Anyway, you’re probably a little better at figuring out smart phones than your parents are, too. And while I enjoy the gadgets, the internet, and all it has to offer, I can honestly say that this is first time that I have found a community online that I feel I belong to.

I’m not sure what drives traffic to my site. I know that a year ago, I first began to see real growth in the number of visitors I’ve had. I won’t lie and say those lives and views in the dashboard are unimportant to me. They matter because it means I’ve connected.

So thank you. Thank you for connecting with me. Thank you for reading, for commenting, for liking, for coming back.

I may be back with a poem of my own later, but to tide you over, here’s one that showed up in my inbox from poets.org this morning. I’m just providing the link, but it’s worth your time.

Thanks
W. S. Merwin

See you after nap time.

thanks and giving (20161123)

crow4 Comments

i am thankful
for the knife
that is made
of kind words
that cuts
without opening
the skin

that pares the fat
of my soul
(if i have one)
that makes a hollow
around my heart
(if it still beats)

i fold my hands
in gratitude
that i only bleed
on the inside
i lower my eyes
in humble appreciation
of the merciful cut

the egg and the soul (20161122)

crow18 Comments

the soul is egg-shaped
tethered to the earth
by seven cords
and seven cords ascend into
the heavens

the research isn’t complete
do those cords simply wrap around
and meet one another
where the universe ends
or are up and down
actual directions

if the connections are cut above
or if they wither
those below thicken
the soul becomes dense
and sluggish
those with this condition may
live a full life
but they are dead though they breathe

if the cords below are severed
death is immediate
but the soul will not be
strong enough to ascend
and will crack, leak, dissolve

the mystery then
how do the cords become
thin as a single strand
of spider silk
until they disappear in harmony
taking the egg with it

thanks for the epiphany (20161120)

crow6 Comments

for a sudden insight
i want to thank the asshat
who spaced out at the intersection
until i flashed my high beams
–saw it twinkle
–like a lightning bolt
–out of zeus’ clenched fist
–in his rearview
and he decided it was okay
to turn right onto the
empty street

and then i had to follow him for
two miles
–not stalking
–we were both headed for the freeway
he signaled
to get on the northbound
and then changed his mind
long past the p.o.n.r.
and swerved back into traffic
so i could follow him
onto the southbound

and my god
i realized that the only
way hell
would work is if you had no
idea you were there
because if you knew that shit
was going to just keep going on
for fucking literally ever
you would just refuse to cooperate
and curl up into a ball
and sisyphus could roll you
up the damn hill because why not

but what would the point of that be
as either a deterrent
or a punishment
if you didn’t even know you were
being punished
you wouldn’t even develop
stockholm syndrome and that would
mean god is just a dick

and how can we tell
that’s not what we’ve got
on our hands here anyway

pennies (20161116)

crow3 Comments

i stare at the screen
my eyes closing
sleepy but tired
is not the state
i have achieved

my teeth ache, feel hollow
every footstep
every ringing phone
sends vibrations
along the floor
up through my feet
right into those last
nerves still active
in my caveman jaw

if one more person says
not bad for a monday
i might just
need to see the dentist
with my mouth full of shards
and the taste of pennies