Dribbles

If you want to change
Your life you may rearrange
The furnishings of
Your placement, occupation,
Moving across the nation.

Tadpoles in water live,
Sprouting legs to become frogs,
Taking to land, air;
We form environments for
Our growth and satisfaction.

Music collides with
Feelings making everyone
Obtain happiness.

I held a droplet
In my hand to understand,
The lives of humans.

Deep Notes

Death is a vigil
Kept leaning over every
Moment, a salient shadow
Stealing who is, who might be.
Life is the energy, activity,
Driving, growing, making,
Unfolding all treasure
Of experience and being.
Love is the music
Arising in the souls ready
To dance the hopeful steps
Of long-awaited romance.
Hands held, kisses longing,
Filling, gentle remembering,
Holding the tenderness
Of memories keenly made.
Take advantage of the times –
For they swiftly disappear,
The aching pain of absence,
What is lost and cannot
Be at any cost retrieved,
Over the passage
Evaporated years, opportunities
Missed, turned aside in life;
Finally, it sears the heart.
Grief is a cruel thief.

The way this evolved was unique. I was reading a short story in which a character was sitting at a dying relative’s bedside. The line, “Grief is a thief,” came to me. It resonated with me. So the poem began with death and worked round and about to the line with which I ended.

I did a small portion of it in my journal. I left for several hours and came home to type it in. As often happens, much of it changed in the process. I hope you enjoyed it, even with the darker notes.

Thank you for visiting Haphazard Creative; please follow the site, or return often.

At this point, I am considering whether to continue my vow to post every day into 2021. Some days I am quite mystified over what I will write. 2020 has been very productive. There was even a month I posted 75 times. This is not my first engagement of this sort. If you visit my Chronicles site, you will see what I mean.

As a prompt, I challenge you to evaluate your creative life and see if posting every day of 2021 might move you to be more productive. If not every day, more than you currently do, would be an improvement.

Allusions

You know I am crazy.

This morning I was covered in goosebumps and asked him if he had a jacket I could wear. He went upstairs and brought me a sweatshirt.

I asked him if he had heard Barbara’s song off the Songbird album, “Honey, Can I Put On Your Clothes?” He is like a musical encyclopedia and can recite, well, you would not believe.

He said, “No.” So I sang it. Then he asked if I had a shirt like that. I said, not really. He said you can have that one.

Sometimes I am crazier than everything.

Pictograph

We’re not in love
No, no, no, we’re not,
He is still caught up
In memories of her;
I try to be someone
Freeing him for a time
From the constant grind
Of all the problems
He is called upon
To solve each second,
Of every single day.
He shares his tastes
In music, humor, art,
I learn sometimes
That I am not so strange
As I have often thought,
There is a contemporary
Person who gets
The boundless part of me.
He helps me with
My myriad problems
Encouraging me to
Continue in my efforts,
And our hugs help
Us deal with this time
Of social isolation;
But no, he is not in love
And says he never will.
I share him with a ghost
But somehow, that feels
Familiar, it is usually
Reversed – so I can deal
With it for now, and
Perhaps eventually
We will find a place
In one another’s orbit
That allows us to feel
What is already there
As something real.

Pronounced

You cried your words, right,
Into the heart of my life, soul,
Answering was I
Bound close as yourself to you
I sang beauty in a voice
I borrowed – starlight;
The wind untamed took captive
Every small moment
I did not hide in pockets
Protected from your unknown.
Across many years
I chased every pleasure found
In other places,
But each was lacking something
Proven in your words to me.
My nebulous thoughts
Converge, enfold your body
In a field tender
As the minute sensation
Of love, long-deferred, come due.
Myself, my sight, is
Frequent as light traveling
Across space and time
To portray your perfect poise
Provided contrasting darkness.
I have now become
More than distant yesterdays;
Music you wrote, soft,
Upon the flesh, heart, dancing
Beneath your strong, gentle hands.

Busy, Busy

I live in my head more often than not, but over the last two days, I have also spent time in the real world. Albeit, my real world, I did extensive work inside the house yesterday and outside it today.

My encounters with bugs, snakes, snails, reminded me why I prefer interiors. Guess I should expect the critters living in the woods, but they are creepy.

I brought in the towels used to sop up excess water when the Explorer leaks. As I got in the mud room a little green lizard, an anole, went flying across the room. It promptly hid out. I said some prayers hoping I could return it to the wild, because it would die in here.

I fixed Pepperjack Cheese Waffle Fries and ate them. When I went back to the door awhile later I saw my visitor. I tried to catch it, but on the third try I prayed again, and somehow I caught the little cutie. I held its tail while it sat on my bicep and took it out to the porch.

I am glad to say the release was successful. I am quite sore, and my computers still won’t go on the internet, so I am brief.

I hope you have an excellent rest of the week. Everybody’s Working For The Weekend by Loverboy. Stay safe and remember love is what the whole world needs.