Thursday, August 23, 2012

pa's hat

I first wore the hat at the age of two
in a picture my mother took.
It swallowed my head- its immense size;
an adult's hat on a child's head.

My grandfather wore the hat around the 1950's-
when it was stylish. It fit him funny
we always laugh about the way it sat
on top of his head.

When off it came, a part of him was left inside and stayed for years as it sat alone in the top of his closet.
When I grew bigger, I lifted the hat from it's lonely perch.
Now it fit me-the brown hat hugging my head snugly but not too tight.

And all of a sudden, I left the place where the hat and my grandfather were for years.

But when I wear the hat, part of Pa infuses me.
His love and laughter spring to life
and make me into a man such as he.

And neither hats nor grandfathers are forever...
But I'll wear the hat, and I'll keep that part of him
left so many years ago.

And when he's gone, there will be a man
who laughs like him, and walks like him, and cares like him.

Still wearing his Pa's hat.

Saturday, June 16, 2012

found divinity

People seek the divine in many places. Sometimes it is right before our eyes. If you're lucky you'll meet up with it every once in a while. I did.

* * *

You are my goddess.
watching your form
at a far-flung clip
eyes tracing the dance of a curve
from your waist to your hip
as if they had tongues
pausing at every inch
hungry yet unsung
mutate my mood to robust
inspire soliloquies
words so fervent they combust
trace the incline of your smile
teeth bared, eyes alight
angel arranged to beguile
You are my goddess.
have seen you in a head-trip
a dream or meditation
now corporeal before me
set my vitality to detonation
prayer in solidity
a lucid realization of hope
assuredness transfigured to turbidity
perplexity knowing no scope
mixtures of elation and reverence
aversion and obsession
fascination with no severance
I'm enamored but with trepidation
rouse me forward
and find me trekking with relish
combine dynamism and rhyme
no need to embellish

You are my goddess.

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

the night i knew

It was a lightning flash coming towards me
from your mouth and hands and animated gestures,
penetrating my head and body. We were standing in
your former home, late at night, the current resident on a trip.
You were gesticulating, pointing to this, and to that;
those things that had their origins in your head
but now servicing someone else. And when the words were exclaimed,

the flash,

and the feelings that erupted inside me.
I wanted to say what you had done was a thing of beauty,
that I had been with you then, not him,
and that I had appreciated every single, tiny wife-y touch
you put on that house. The pride in your voice sustained that lightning bolt,
centering things, hovering it before my eyes;
causing me to envision, or believe I could envision,
futures where a meal might bake, steam rising from the dish

like lighting on pause

until inhaled to complete the hallucination.
So I grabbed you with both hands,
spinning you around, jabbering something, ultimately unable
to articulate the feelings and the hunger and the steam,
or the strength with which they came.