Ink in the Blood Posts

It’s a Long Road …

to all

and you know who you are

you know exactly

i just wanna say,

thank you

i gave you all i had

the best of me

and you squandered it

totally

no, this ain’t no pity

party

been to those

and this ain’t one of ‘em

this is jest an admission

a pause

to say, i’m grateful

i wasn’t always grateful

you know

thought why me

why is this happening to me

but life teaches you

why not

you’re no better or no worse

terrible things happen

whether you’re good or bad

whether you had breaks or you didn’t

whether you won or lost

whether you get it or you don’t

things happen

you get run over

it’s the ugly side of life

how horrible it can be

i saw it

i heard it

i felt it

the alarm went off too early

before i had a chance

to wake up

i was still asleep

still dreaming

still light

but it was too loud

the alarm was too loud

it screamed a sickening sound

i never went back to bed

i stayed awake

all the time

but on the day

my daughter appeared

i slept

i dreamed

i felt light

finally

i under

stood

TL

Willow in the Wind

Friday it was

Sunday it was

no more

a storm had blown

through the area

and chopped it down

at the feet

bare feet

its face held down

in a pond of pollen

unrecognizable

its gentle flowing locks

splattered

it was not a pleasant site

to see

I closed my eyes

and saw my daughter

3

throwing rose petals

in the stream

the lovely locks

like a waterfall

surrounding her

we had our little picnics there

under that emerald waterfall

and watched the wind

pick up

and play

it was our special spot

I watched her walk on over

to the tree

quietly

on the brink of 15

then she turned

and looked back at me

standing where I stood

and I saw her

3

TL

Pink Perfume

the cardboard box

had photos of peonies

thought why not

took the roots home

and put ‘em in two pots

and watered ‘em

in my greenhouse

when I had a greenhouse

back before a tree crushed it

without a roof

I set these pots

under the rain

and sun

and walked away

as seasons changed

back to spring

was outside marveling at herbs

that made it through the winter

rearranging pots

when there in one

was a light pink beautiful peony

in full bloom

I couldn’t believe it

it’d been two years

since I put those roots in pots

and never thought

for a second

they’d actually bloom

and fill the air

with peony perfume

TL

Dear Officer So and So,

the police

never showed

the kid waited

and waited

and waited

but they never

showed

i’d like to know

why

could somebody there

please tell me why

why you never showed

when i see

an officer on the street

with their uniform

and their badge

and their gun

their oath

i wanna go up to ‘em

and just ask ‘em

why

why didn’t you show

up

and get me the hell outta there

the kid in me

just wants to know

why you never showed

why you never checked

why you never followed-up

with questions

for the child …

are you ok?

do you need help?

do you want to go and live

somewhere else?

she musta been invisible

quietly crying

silently praying

waiting and waiting

waiting for what

for when

12 years went by

the system failed

and i want you to know that

i need you to know that

i need you to know that I know that

but what if i hadn’t been so strong

well, I know you’re busy

and all

and this letter’s much too late

but i sent it anyways

have a good day

TL

Unsaid i Say

a writer is

always collecting

i can’t remember

a time

when i wasn’t

taking

everything in

the tone of words

the unspoken cry

the music of rain

the movement of clouds

the lap of the sea

the horse standing

so still

the beautiful object

broken to bits

the wondering where

the stray went

and died

the roses on the coffin

in the urn

the garden

the way the light plays

with shadows

Peter Pan-like

the skin of fruit

how it changes

the second it falls

to ground

like petals

like butterflies

like little blue eggs

memories i can’t remember

to forget

on my stone

please put

i tried …

don’t try …

just be

TL

Before or After

having lived

two lives

very different

from the other

i’ve often wondered

how the perspective

changes

in the light of time

how you view the world

in the sequence of time

if hardship came early

you carry it your whole life

through

verses

when hardship comes later in life

you carry it not as long

but may not be equipped

for the weight of it

especially if

never faced with shattering things

before

on the other hand

if faced with suffering

while still a child

expectations tend to fall away

when not met

early on

this creates a conditioning within a child

if faced with too much

too soon

children are not adults

they are not equipped to carry the weight

of it

and yet so many did

and so many do

and so many will

and i wish it wasn’t so

if you survive a traumatic childhood

you will spend the rest of your life

either healing

from it

or running away

from it

and if you’re an adult

who never faced hard things

before

but now feel overwhelmed

at every turn

it can be unbearable

at times

to the point of self-sabotage

whether it’s drinking or drugs

or other things

if coping mechanisms

are not in place

the result is the result

a room can stay dark

for a long time

if you don’t reach up

and switch on the light

real change

starts real small

in the smallest thing

you can find meaning

it’s there in the routine

the daily routine

of mundane things

where you’d least expect it

to be …

if you have no soap

but you’re grateful

for water …

and if you have

no water

but you know

one day

it will

r

a

i

n

TL

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