Ink in the Blood Posts

Two Halves Make a Whole

“You look at

the energy

of an individual

and how do you feel,

how do you feel

in front of that person.

That’s it.

It’s a person.

It’s a human.

So, when we look

at our kids

and they’re half,

I mean for me,

that’s like two wholes

actually.”

Loren, who is white, talking about his two kids with his wife of 12 years, Sunya, who is Korean (it made me cry when I heard him say this with such sincerity. It was profound.) The couple was interviewed as part of The Halfie Project posted online April 16, 2019, and I watched it for the first time early Sunday morning, March 28, 2021. I will frame those words for my daughter whose heart needs to hear it and hold it and carry it on her journey through this world …

“A Quick Recovery”

“I’ve hit a variety

of snipes, quacks and shrimps

in my lifetime,

and if I continue

to play

I’ll hit plenty more.

I realize

that a poor shot

is just a swing away.

I also realize

that once I’ve hit

a poor shot

my only recourse

is to hit a better shot

on the next swing.

In other words,

I’ve learned how

to hit it

and forget it.

There’s no sense

dwelling

on a mistake.

You can’t hit the shot

again,

so forget about it …

the road to failure

is paved with negativity.

If you think

you can’t do something,

chances are

you won’t be able to.

Conversely,

the power of positive

thinking

can turn an adverse

situation

into a prime

opportunity

for heroism.”

Tiger Woods (How I Play Golf pages 268-269)

Dear Dad,

it’s been 28

years

and yesterday

we’re the same

age

this quiet

understanding

between us

I sleep

at night

knowing

after all this time

it’ll be ok

i’m ok

and you’re ok

we’re ok …

TL

Control

in uncontrollable

times

the strength of Zoe

Wees

cuts through

the ice

she’s singing about seizures

that haunt her

but her struggles

are universal

in the telling

of what it is

to be human

whatever it is we face

in life

whatever corners us

none of us “wanna

lose control”

but none of us

have a choice

in it

we are all brought

to bear

so fill your pockets

with as much beauty

as you can

whilst you still can

collect the rays

TL

This Morning

again

the tap

at my window

just one tap

but the blue bird

is not there

so, I get up

and walk on over

to the window

to see where he went …

instead I see snow

suddenly there’s snow …

floating soft in the air

and I can’t help

but laugh

this bird of blue

brings joy

unexpected joy

TL

The Prophet

“your children

are not your children

they are the sons and daughters

of Life’s longing for itself

they come through you

but not from you

and though they are with you

yet they belong not to you

you may give them your love

but not your thoughts

for they have their own thoughts

you may house their bodies

but not their souls

for their souls dwell in the house

of tomorrow

which you cannot visit

not even in your dreams

you may strive to be like them

but seek not to make them like you

for life goes not backward

nor tarries with yesterday

you are the bows from which your children

as living arrows are sent forth

the Archer sees the mark upon the path

of the infinite

and He bends you with His might

that His arrows may go swift and far

let your bending in the Archer’s hand be for

gladness

for even as He loves the arrow that flies

so He loves also the bow

that is stable”

(written by Kahlil Gibran – The Prophet 1923)

Blue Bird

early this

morning

I heard

a tap

at my window

and looked across

the room

it was the blue bird

who visited just last year

come back

to say,

“hello, hello, hello,

do you remember me …”

I smile

he’s grown so much

and has so much to say

his wings have carried him

to the other side of the shore

where he’s met all manner of being

I wonder what he’s learned

he says he’ll come back tomorrow

bright and early

and tell me

all about it

TL

When

parked puddles

tiny drops

stuck on glass

slowly dry

as James Bay sings his

Scars away

a car door closes

another opens

carts rolling and sticking

to a stop

a big rig in the distance

keeps going

the roar of an airplane

the quiet of a bicycle

wet masks

plastered on pavement

when is Halloween

over

I forget …

birds chirping

this and that

all the clouds

converged at once

covering every speck of blue

I wonder what it’s like

at the beach

if the sun’s out

what the sand feels like

does it matter

yeah, no

TL

For the Love of the Game

golf was made

for someone like me

and i wish i’d had it

growing up

it woulda helped

considerably

been trying to

catch up

for lost time

I practice as if

there’s a tournament

right around the corner

I don’t play for trophies

or cash

though that’d be nice

I’ve simply found

something

that rivals books

and I love books

books were my golf

growing up

that’s what got me through

tough times

golf is like a book

it can take you

away

with all its intricate

details

and patterns

and ups and downs

when I play alone

I get in a zone

a rhythm

a quiet

an intensity

a feeling

I think of nothing

but the ball

it’s wonderful

I plug in my music

and disappear

TL

My Car

so far

as possessions go

I’d say

my car

is close

it’s more than

transport

more than

storage

more than

four doors

and a roof

it’s personal

space

just enough

to sit

and think

or not think

or over think

I’ve window-watched

the wind

the rain

the snow

the fog

the glow

the clouds

the rays

the moon in all its phase

the night with all its stars

the not one

I’ve watched the leaves

grow back

in buds

and fall away

when fully formed

even now beneath

the bark

like daffodils

in the dark

here is where

I like to read

a book

or write

as I am

or listen to the silence

or too many songs

or my daughter talk

when she feels like

talking

our best talks

were in the car

parked

without distraction

she used to be a baby

in the back

now, she’s fixin’ to take

the wheel

my car is a time capsule

of sorts

a place to put

the tears

and laughter

and everything

in-between

a place to breathe

yeah, my car

is more than

A to B

it’s time

standing still

at rush-hour

TL

Mrs. Dorsey

she was kind …

that’s what they

ought to engrave

on her stone

she was kind …

TL

Be as You are

“there’s a blue rockin’ chair
sittin’ in the sand

weathered by the storms

and well-oiled hands
it sways back and forth

with the help of the winds
it seems to always be there

like an old, trusted friend

i’ve read a lot of books
wrote a few songs
looked at my life

where it’s goin,’ where it’s gone
i’ve seen the world

through a bus windshield

but nothing compares
to the way that i see it
to the way that i see it
to the way that i see it

when i sit

in that old blue chair

from that chair

i’ve caught

a few fish and some rays
and i’ve watched boats sail

in and out of Cinnamon Bay
i let go of a lover

that took a piece of my heart
i prayed many times for forgiveness

and a brand new start

i’ve read a lot of books
wrote a few songs
looked at my life

where it’s goin,’ where it’s gone
i’ve seen the world

through a bus windshield

but nothing compares
to the way that i see it

to the way that i see it
to the way that i see it

when i sit

in that old blue chair

that chair was my bed one New Year’s Night
when i passed out from too much Cruzan and diet
and woke up to a 100 mosquito bites
i swear

got ’em all sittin’ right there
in that old blue chair

there’s a blue rockin’ chair
sittin’ in the sand

weathered by the storms

and well-oiled hands”

(song written and sung by Kenny Chesney)

Observation

there’s a plastic

bag

stuck in a leafless

tree

the wind moves

through it

but not enough

to free it

it just hangs there

suspended-like

with the sky above it

and the ground below it

illuminated by the light

it waves

at birds and bees

and planes it cannot see

unless it’s raining

then it doesn’t move

at all

like a balloon

caught on a chandelier

it’s still

there

TL

Surreal

was online

this morning

watching an old interview

Shirley MacLaine gave

to Larry King

they held their own

across the table

with mutual regard

and the next thing

I know

there he is

in the news this morning

making headlines

at 87

TL

Behind the Glass

a little

brown bird

flew down

and landed

at my window

but never saw me

sitting there

staring back

through tinted glass

I thought him beautiful

no ruffled feathers

he looked brand new

so alert and curious and unafraid

and if he was cold

it never showed

10 seconds went by

before he took off

searching for the little brown bird

he saw in a window

and heard sing

TL

1963 to 2021

i was

in fifth

or sixth

grade

when

i first

appeared

in the local

newspaper

for 1st place

on an essay

i wrote

about a man

named Martin

who gave a speech

in Washington, D.C.

in 1963

TL

In the Wind

the earth trembles

in centuries

as each flicker of light

goes dark

in that last blink

of breath

the leaves fall from trees

swept away

and new ones appear

as is the way of flowers

in springtime

that open and close

we are left

wondering on the wind

for mortal beings

know not

the mysteries

of the sea

where one begins

and the other ends

the sun

rests on waters

large and small

giving its treasure

away

for those who search

for things

well beyond the rim

of a silent sea

a brush of wings

touched down

TL

No Justification

on the 6^th day

of the New Year

the United States of America

saw a disgraceful surge of ignorance

that left the U.S. Capitol

compromised

and a U.S. police officer

dead

trying to protect it

he was 42

on the force 12 years

he should be at work

today

making his rounds

not lying lifeless

for his family

to bury

TL

Living Simply

Rosie

has no idea

it’s a New Year

each day she wakes

wagging her tail

happy just to be

runs on over to the carpet

to wipe her face awake

and stretch and roll on over

for a belly rub

then she trots to the door

like a little piglet

to do her business

and bark at birds and squirrels

and anything that moves

sometimes, she sits in the sun

for a while

and sniffs the air

and stares up at the top of trees

then she spies the cat

and they race to the door

to be first

before they settle down

in front of their bowl

crunching and slurping

their fill

then it’s hide-and-seek

and walking the cat to the door

she bounces around

here and there

and goes and finds her stuffed toy

and proceeds to pull all the stuffing out

happy with her work

she looks around for love and approval

before slipping away

to go and take her a nap

dreaming of steak and chicken and fish

and then she wakes up

and stretches

and wiggles her tail

sashaying to the door

and if she’s lucky

she’ll see a squirrel

TL

Gladiator

last night

a couple days

after Christmas

she watched

a movie

that gave her

more insight

on the man

she loves most

in the world

it was a moment

in time

sitting there with her dad

that she’ll carry with her

for the whole

of her life

and she might not

grasp it now

the depth of it

but will one day

for movies

are magic portals

that can take you back

to that moment when

you were just old enough

to watch your father’s favorite

movie

that first appeared in 2000

six years before you were born

a 20-year-old story

that remains

golden

“Strength and Honor …”

TL