just a man // for PJ

neon yellow

and blaringly pink converse,

with paint stained pants.

that’s what i was wearing as he sat next to me

in a button up and khaki pants – shined shoes adorned his feet.

i felt as though i was sitting with royalty.

in a sense, i suppose i was.

i was playing Mafia with a King.

Quiet, regal, mischievous and keen,

with a smile that was rare

and a laugh that made you proud to know

you inspired it.

/

that was the moment we became equals

in a world chock full of competition.

we were one unit, moving through this game,

knocking out opponents left and right — even after i was silenced,

our joke still rang in the air among the breathing of the Court.

We were one unit, moving through this game,

an Apprentice and a King,

moving slyly through the crowd,

through our own ups and downs.

We were one unit, moving through this game,

until this game of Mafia became real

in a city full of life and loss.

/

a King was put to rest today.

just a man in a suit,

eyes closed, hands crossed,

just a man in a box, in hole, in the ground.

lips pressed in silence

as the hills took him in.

a King was put to rest today,

and i am not yet ready to say goodbye.

listening to India.Arie on spotify, reading some Anne Lamott, writing bits of my memoir, and letting my heart feel the joys and the pains of what has brought me to where I am right at this very moment.

“I wont be taken by the stream. /There’s a current that keeps on coming for me. / I’ll stand in water, I’ll be that tree / and my roots will keep me free.” – Eisa Davis

My friend…

There was this
Light about you.
But you never really
Saw it.

There was this
Confidence in your gait
But you never really
Believed it.

There was that
Smile, too.
But you never really
Felt it.

So you pierced your eyebrow
And you
Loved a toxic girl
And you
Tied that hose around your
Skinny neck.
The neck you used to sling
that toy guitar over
as we played
game after game of Guitar Hero.
That neck I used to wrap my arms around
as you paid for our meals
at Friendly’s
after prom each year.

That neck I couldn’t stop staring at
As you lay in that cushioned casket
And didn’t breathe, didn’t smile, didn’t say
“Hey! You’ll never guess what happened to me today.”
Because nothing happened to you today.
Because we sat in church crying over you today.
Because you didn’t talk to me, you just said you were ok.

But you weren’t.

spirit awakened.

i can feel it stirring,
that pitter patter of rain
in my chest.

i can sense it brewing.
i can taste it,
smooth and minty and melting,
then like pop rocks,
bouncing and
bounding and
Tickling my tongue.

i can feel it blossoming,
that cool, crazy
sigh in my gut;

a rapid beat,
a sharp intake of
wealth,
a humble caress –

a note.
a melody.

a wheel,
turning and
churning and
Bursting ahead.

peace and calm and the
absence of numb,
braiding my hair,
piercing my ears
kissing and brushing and touching my cheek.

saying, “good morning, little one.
the day is young and there’s lots to do.”
so let’s get to it.

air on fire

I was air before I met you.
Floating high and free and away

But you caught me,
snatched me right out of the air
With your bulging eyes and your
Meaty mouth
And your blood stained
Heart that ticks only for
Power.
You stuffed me in
Balloons never to be popped,
No helium to let me rise.
You packed me in bubble wrap
never to be broken open by a child.
And you buried me in an old dusty accordion and never
Ever let me play.
You took away everything I was.

But you did not know that the breath of my story
Would soon be released
By another’s loving fingers
Upon the keyboard.
That a voice sighing behind the microphone stand
Would awaken a fire within my chest
So bold
it encompassed the black hole
that you punched there
With your fist.
The way you trapped me
Did not define my existence –
The word victim will not
Cage me now.
[No.]
I am a survivor.

I will rise.
I am floating.
I am free.

Translucent Beginnings…

Finding a voice, my voice. Putting it down on glassy scrolls, painting it in the colors of my life – blues and greens and sunshiny yellows; never losing sight of my present, always hoping for the future. My past clears the path for what is to come. But for now, the reflection of life remains intact.

————————————————————————————————————————————-

There, at the foot of a willow tree, clouds grazing the edges of the sun, thoughts came in gushes of thousands, and slowed to trickles of one or two. Convictions and expectations and overwhelming doubts flowed with the steady force of the creek across the way. The heat of the sun beat down on my back, but the sweat on my neck only reminded me that I am human, that I am life – just like the flowers at my feet and the dragonfly on my shoulder. The only difference being nature’s total trust in what is meant to be; all will be provided, provided you pay no mind. Faith is at the heart of it all. Faith and hard work. And the beat of my heart moved more steadily in pace – the race to the finish line slowed to a trot, my past no longer chasing me, but rather standing at my side, at the ready, eager for what was soon to come.

He no longer conquered my day dreams; he was swallowed up by the sun.

(photo taken by Catherine Mueller)