Monday, August 21, 2023

8.21.23

Just after the first hour of the 18th you came into my life

and changed how the light felt in the beginning and day end,

your face soft and not yet stained - little fingers hanging onto

one of mine; cliches of my everything becoming changed at first breaths.


I'm not certain if I'm a good father - your infantile screams causing

unknown anxieties to break down what palisades I made. If someone

saw where I was or what I did or didn't do in those first months of

changings and feedings and growings - I'm certain that I wouldn't

even receive a participation fatherhood ribbon. Your mother was

father while I made excuses to be at work - "someone has to

pay the bills...keep the roof over your head...make sure the

heat stays on...;" I was / am / will be scared over and over again.


I am getting better, I think...I hide the jealousy of the smile to your

mother, hide the anxieties when I try to change & feed you, try to

be there in the background when you & your Mom learn & grow just to

hope you'll look over your shoulder and grin or burble or babble

when you see me.


We try and do our best to take as many photos & memories,

again and again, so you can see how loved you are by

family & those we call friends...to look back and see

all the love that we intend, to celebrate you everyday,

the amalgamation of your mother & small-absences father...


How do I tell my one year old daughter I never intended to

make it this far - wasn't supposed to live past 23,

had no plans to fall in love, no thoughts of

weddings & new apartments and houses & positive tests leading to

showers & eventually to you laying skin to skin on

my chest while the glacial realization that my old

life did end - only for my life to begin again...


I don't know where I'm going with this, my little Stinkbug,

just know I wake up everyday deciding to begin again,

hoping that I can and will make up the small absences to

you - that to see you happy & healthy & in-love is all I intend...


-Dad

Wednesday, October 31, 2018

A Return Home

I awoke from a what I thought was a dream,
only to truly find my Ravenette in our bed,
back from a short migratory stint,
a journey in need of finding her soul and mirth.

I awoke from the dream,
and felt her roll over in her sleep,
her face calm and full of peace,
my Ravenette mere inches from me.

Ravenette flew back home,
brought stories and trinkets of her adventures,
brought her soul and mirth back,
Ravenette flew back home with herself back.

Temporary winters without the Ravenette,
now a body warmth next to mine,
don't fly away for a while,
or please let me come too Ravenette.

I awoke from the dream,
and she was beside me.


Sunday, November 26, 2017

Used to Be but No Longer

Woke up in sheets damp by sweat,
Touch my scars, remember,
Numb and cold,
Ennui foundations,
Lost where my thoughts go,
Only a year now,
Used to be but no longer alone,

Uneasy anniversary,
Confessions and tears,
Phone calls,
Hospital gowns and silence,
Stare into space but no stars shine,
Find the echoing hum of silence,
Used to be but no longer alone,

Learn who I am now,
No longer lose control,
Mate of my soul,
Purposeful,
Wake up next to you,
Uses to be but no longer
on my own.

Friday, July 28, 2017

Dream #36

The wood groaned underneath knee, a worn cushion gave way as I bowed my head. It was silent in the chapel; not cold and silent, but rather a warm embracing silence.

Make the sign of the cross. Up down left and right; just like you were taught way back when.

The candles on the altar were light, wax slowly dripping to the base, where the wax was beginning to overtake the candle. I couldn't help but watch the flames dance in its own way, coaxed further into its dance by the draft coming from upstairs.

"Hail Mary, full of grace.."

Listen to yourself. Do you believe what you're saying, or are you just going through the motions?

Barely a whisper at first, someone upstairs behind me began bringing the old organ awake again from its slumber. Airy, breathy even, but not shrill or booming; the organ sighed as it warmed the air with its dulcet tones. I turned, still reciting prayers from memory, to look up at the organ, but none was visible.

"..blessed are thou amongst women..."

Must be in the rectory. Or..a cd? No one else is in here but me, and the front door was unlocked. Ha, could be aliens..

"...holy Mary, mother of God.."

I turned back around to face the altar again and I noticed something peculiar. One of the candles had been replaced and was aflame, as if it had always been there and had always been lit. The organ began playing a melody of Davidic splendor, reaching higher and higher towards the 7th circle, grasping and pulling itself and me into the heavens.

"..pray for us sinners..."

I shut my eyes, the world spinning faster than I can hold on. I put my head on my clasped hands. The organ driving the chapel further and further in cosmic chaos, the candles drip drip dripping wax onto the base and the floor; their flames building in a dance of want and lust, pulling me between it and the organ.

Keep it together man, get a hold of yourself. You're starting to scare me, you, me.

"..at the hour of our death."

As I lifted the weight of my head from my hands, I wasn't in the chapel anymore. Or I was, but the chapel was just pews on grass, an altar in front and the continuous calling of the organ against the winds. This was...this was...a world of chaos and order, a world between flames and organs, a place of past and present and future, of here and before here and parallel here.

"..Amen."

I stand, and I'm in the chapel, sliding out from the pew and grasping the wooden end edge, genuflecting, making the sign of the cross.

Spectacles, testicles, wallet, and watch..

I turn away from the altar, moving with each step closer to the organ, no longer making a sound but rather a vibration that penetrates me, feeling it not on just the skin but in my bones, my mind, into the very essence of my soul. I dip my finger into the holy water, and cross myself. I am just in front of the front doors, reaching out and grasping the handle to leave this place of dual identities, hearing my heart beat match that of the organs vibration. I open the door, and breathe a sigh of relief.

Reality?

Saturday, January 28, 2017

Imperfect Love (by Felicia Quinn)

On the surface they seemed perfect.
A fair maiden with a heart of gold and a knight in shining armour.
Past their perfection, held their flaws.
A foul mouthed woman and a dented up knight from fighting past battles often fought alone.
She was brash, he more conservative.
Yet, they were together.
She fought his dragon and he slayed her demons.
The fault of one was another's saving grace.
Two imperfect people destined to be imperfect together.
To one another, they were simply perfect, flaws and all.


A Vow to My Companion

I deserve you as much as you deserve me.

We have gone through hell,
we have faced our own dragons.

We have grown since the first day we met
all those years ago -

We have seen the same sunrises,
the same sunsets from many miles apart.

We have held the hands of others
under the same moon and stars.

We have known what we thought was,
but latter realized to be false,
fulfilling love.

We have made it from stages
of walking,
running,
flying,
through our destinies,
only to come to this moment where our
separate journeys have become
entwined -

and here it is that I realized
that every past companion holds
no light, holds
no flame to that which
we have in ourselves for
each
other.


Monday, January 2, 2017

Stream of Conscious Anxiety

A shower lasting so long
tap turned to hot but water running cold
sitting under the stream
staring at the now lavender and lilac
scars on cream skin.

Kill for a smoke,
kill for no more anxiety,
kill for the depression to fuck off,
death for a second without not living,
nasty bit of bitter realization -
knowing that medication keeps me alive,
while wishing that medication wasn't needed
to keep me
alive.

Am I pulling away from family? From friends?
Are they pulling away from me?
Am I rebounding? Falling back? Spiraling out of
control?
Almost six weeks since going into a mental institution,
Just after six weeks since I

Cut my skin, caused red to gather,
liquid on top of white thigh skin,
staring at the cuts, the blade,
finding a second of peace,
finding a lifetime of questions in return,
finding I wanted to live so lets not cut any deeper,
finding I needed help, needed therapy, needed to
not be there,

Needed to be here.
Needing to be here, home.
Needing to be wanted by others, by friends, by family,
by myself.
Needed and needing
Wanted and wanting
Killed and killing
Craved and craving
Felt and feeling,

For others,
For me,
for me,
for
me.