Ink in the Blood Posts

The Seal of the Sun

I walk

under emeralds

looking up at chandeliers

swaying in the wind

all aglow

high overhead

these dripping jewels

I wear

TL

Keep Driving

been going

through rooms

with a minimal mindset

not quite there yet

and might never be

but I try anyway

and it ain’t easy

let me tell ‘ya

it ain’t easy

it’s like losing weight

once you do

you gotta maintain it

for life

getting rid of stuff

is like yo yo dieting

losing the weight and then packing it back on

what good is it

if I carry stuff out

and end up replacing it

and that’s what I tend to do

over time

I clear things out

and then clutter it back up

I’m past the denial stage

and the acceptance stage

think I’m now in the

all gotta go stage

and stay gone

so, I made a lot of progress yesterday

then woke up this morning

and passed a yard sale

laughing to myself

I love yard sales

and they love me

and I wanted to stop

and jest take a little peek

like a person trying to quit smoking

jest a little puff

but I kept on going

moving past it

I got enough to deal with

as it is

don’t need no more

stuff

TL

Tennessee

the ridge of mountains

disappeared

in the smoke

and reminded me

of a window seat in a plane

looking down

at the covering of clouds

hiding the earth

below

there’s a relief in things

that remain

nature has a way

of telling us

it’ll be ok

no matter what

happens or doesn’t happen

the rivers will run full

catching leaves and rays

and the eye

of a passerby

TL

The Opera of James Hurst

life is

a strange bird

indeed

never knowing where

it might land

The Scarlet Ibis

fell through the cracks

of my youth

and decades later

might have missed it

still

but it landed like a feather

in my daughter’s hands

and she read it aloud to me

the day it was read aloud to her

we parked in a parking lot

after school

and I sat there staring out the windshield

not seeing the traffic go by

I saw only Doodle

could see him as clear

as a day

that was …

and is

no more

TL

John Daly

at 54

Daly ain’t afraid

to die

never knew much

about him

other than his penchant

for wild looking pants

but saw an interview online

he interviews well

saw he wrote a book

curious

so looked it up

and bought it online

was somewhere in the middle

pages

when heard about his current cancer

being cut out

and how he’s dealing

with it

just a handful of pages left

now to read

and I don’t want it to end

he’s made me laugh so hard

and cry so good

he’s about as real as they come

cusses like a sailor

smokes like a weed

drank ‘til he was drained

an eye for the ladies

enjoys excess to the extreme

falls in love easily

as he forgives

can size up a room

and find the broken heart

he doesn’t kick the down and out

on the street

or walk on by oblivious

he sees them where they are   

and lifts them …

yeah, I’m a fan

for life

and it ain’t got nothing to do

with golf

you’re like a real live Rocky

Yo, Daly …

keep those hands up

keep those feet moving

keep that heart

that Lion’s heart

beating strong

stay outta the corner

and in the ring

TL

When the Fog Lifts

a little bird

of blue

holds the line

against the cold

wind

bobbing up and down

in waves

like a sailboat in the sea

looks down at the grass

still green for now

the turning of blades

the fall of leaves

puddles of glass

soon it’ll be hard

to find food

and shelter

and warmth

where will it go

when the rains come

crashing

and the trees in their tray

stand frozen

like sticks in slab

will it roam the sky

looking for the sun

and wake up one morning

in the stillness of a Sunday

and find it green

once more

TL

Chosen

when he got

there

the place was in ruins

everything was new

when he was a child

but his eyes had seen

too much turn

over and over and over …

and now it seared him

to open them

he couldn’t sleep

even when he slept

all the ruined lives

that never turned round

ending in dead-ends

a ring never worn

innocence lost

his eyes hurt

from the ocean of tears

and the question

of why

he had lived too long

100 years in the middle

of a road

where the grass never grows

he longed for green pastures

and the trees of his youth

and the feeling of red apples

and it was the first time

since he was a little boy

that he could open his eyes wide

and dry

and it wasn’t dark

his body was bathed in the light

and he could see the sea shining

in the distance …

he felt weightless

as if he could fly

like a bird

like a sparrow

…

TL

Journalist Julio Valdivia

journalism

at its noble best

seeks ever only

the truth

digging in the dark

at the lonely hour

whilst the unencumbered sleep

sound in their beds

sacrifices are met and made

for there are stories

out there

that must be told

that have to be told

and certain ones

nobody nowhere wants to write …

but they have to

not for themselves

or the outlet

but for a global society

that would otherwise never know

the truth

we need truth seekers in the world

to silence them is harmful

to us all

the killing of journalists

is a shameful thing

to discard their tortured body

by the railroad tracks

their head chopped off

is something else

altogether

TL

“Mrs. Satterthwaite says

stolen plants always grow,

I stole some ‘Honesty’ yesterday,

it was to be burnt

in a heap of garden refuse!

I have had something

out of nearly every garden

in the village”

– Beatrix Potter

Endure

in the UK

there’s a guy

named

Alex Lewis

and if it weren’t for

Real Stories

making a documentary

on his life

people the world over

would never know

his story

the story of his life

and what it taught him

about himself

and those around him

he did not set out to be a teacher

no lofty degrees

or certifications

or such

and yet he is

a life instructor

for sure

TL

At Rest

following a line

of leaves

down a dusty lane

that turns around

the shoulder

and opens

at the bend

meadowland

like waves of wheat

that wash

against the sand

erasing all the steps

that trod

in puddles over time

wild are the flowers

that broke open

up the hill

setting in the sun

folding under moons

no one sees

the petals drop

then the wind

TL

By and By

in the realm

of reality

dust is dirt

that floats in air

and smoke is steam

that rises and goes no

where

and a single grain of sand

is just a speck

a drop of ocean

that fell

like a faraway star

this sense of somewhere

beyond mortal understanding

of time and place

we find ourselves

in the least of these

remembering moments

that bend

like the light

as the body ages

without sound

the inside stays

anew

centenarians the world over

concur

and have in their hearts

the same refrain

that you held

my hand

when it hurt

and let me cry

when the shadows fall

and the room goes dark

and you have to go it

a

l

o

n

e

journeying

way away from earth

from all earthly things

headed home

from whence

you were

evermore

TL

Limitless

last night

I sat at a table

for three

and was served

the best meal

I’ve ever ate

in my life

the chef is 14

and she is unafraid

of lengthy recipes

that require a certain level

of depth and detail

she is concise

and incredibly creative

in her thought process

and for years now

I’ve been fortunate

to dine at her table

without a reservation

and experience

one culinary creation

after another

but last night

was the first time

she ever prepared

a Korean dish

in the kitchen

she had quietly looked up recipes online

and asked me to take her to the Asian Market

and the grocery store

armed with her mask, her list and my debit card  

she marched out with her buggy full of ingredients

not normally on hand

and glanced at the time, pleased with herself

for she was already ticking off the time it would take

to prepare everything and plate the meals

by the time her daddy came home

and when it was finally time to sit down

at the table

I held the tears in check

and just sat there stunned

looking at all the dishes

and then looking at her

and then looking at all the dishes

and then looking at her

this was a meal that requires marinating

and blanching

and chopping

and measuring

and timing

and frying

and grilling

and steaming

and boiling

and certain spices

and sauces

and seasoning

the filling for the dumplings

had like 7 ingredients

and she pinched the edges like

she does a pie

and each dish could have stood alone

as a meal

I looked at the table

at these four main dishes

and two side dishes

and really didn’t know what to say

but … “wow”

just wow

the flavor was authentic

and the presentation was beautiful

and the feeling was overwhelming

she could quite literally open up her own restaurant

right now

already she’s cooked American, French, Italian, Mexican, Korean, etc.

and all manner of desserts and appetizers

I would gladly be her dishwasher

her taste tester

her server

her shopper

her chauffer

her investor

but she says this is jest a hobby of hers

something she enjoys

doing

I’m like … ok …

so, what’s for dinner?

TL

On the Surface

never once

did I consider

the surface

I’d just lace up

my shoes

and go

wherever I felt like flying

running was such a release

whatever I was holding in

or worried about

didn’t seem so heavy

after a run

but a knee injury

when you’re young

can catch up with you

when you’re old

so much so you can no longer walk

wherever you want

let alone run

you have to consider the surface

first

before you take off

and over time

you figure out what hurts

and what doesn’t

I know people who’d give anything

just to walk

let alone run

and I know people who have no excuse

not to walk

let alone run

but none of us understand this

but the bedridden

TL

“Play Smarter not Harder”

the blisters

still hurt on my hands

‘cause I don’t let up on the club

especially when I’m out there

chipping away

and ‘ya get in this rhythm

where they fall just right

and ‘ya don’t wanna let up

on the grip

and if it’s 90 degrees

the palms get sweaty

and slip

and the grip gets tighter

and tighter

which is why

the blisters still hurt

on my hands

gloves would be useful

yeah

but ‘ya lose the feel with gloves

at least for me anyway

so I reach for the box of Band-Aids

instead

maybe someday

I’ll let up on the hold

‘cause I’ve cut the circulation off

or maybe I’ll jest learn how

to trust my club

wouldn’t that be so much easier

yeah, no

TL

Daffodils

they don’t

teach ‘ya how

to be strong

there’s no syllabus

for that

no coursework

no class

they teach ‘ya the basics

of math

English

science

history

and ‘ya sit there

taking tests

hoping to make

the grade

and this process

takes 12 years

elementary

middle school

high school

and then you graduate

and go out into the world

with your lessons

and you enroll in Life 101

and at first it seems so

simple

nothing to it

but life’s not like that

at all

it’s complicated

it can be beautiful one second

and ugly the next

divorce is messy

nobody wins

accidental death is messy

addiction is messy

losing someone you love is messy

watching a loved one die is very messy

job loss

getting sick with something

abusive relationships

homelessness

natural and unnatural disasters

isolation

suicide

obesity

hoarding

emotional trauma

physical abuse

abandonment

it can get messy

quick

and that’s the short list

humans go through transformation

from the moment of birth

to the hour of death

externally and internally

we change form

like the seasons

like springtime

sleeping beneath the snow

dreaming of daffodils

we appear

and then disappear

but we were here

and it was messy

and it was beautiful

and it was worth it

to love

and be loved

TL

Emily Dickinson Poem:

“If I Should Die”

“And if I go, while you’re still here …

Know that I live on,

Vibrating to a different measure

Behind a thin veil you cannot see through.

You will not see me,

So you must have faith.

I wait for the time when we can soar

Together again,

Both aware of each other.

Until then, live your life to the fullest

And when you need me,

Just whisper my name in your heart,

… I will be there.”

(for Josey Dorsey, 4)

Songbird

“for you, there’ll be no more crying
for you, the sun will be shining

‘cause I feel that when I’m with you,
it’s all right, I know it’s right

and the songbirds keep singing

like they know the score
and I love you, I love you, I love you

like never before

to you, I would give the world
to you, I’d never be cold
’cause I feel that when I’m with you,
it’s all right, I know it’s right

and the songbirds keep singing like they know the score
and I love you, I love you, I love you

like never before, like never before, like never before

and I wish you all the love in the world
but most of all, I wish it from myself

and the songbirds keep singing

like they knew the score
and I love you, I love you, I love you
like never before, like never before, like never before … ”

(Songbird written by Christine Mcvie and performed by Eva Cassidy

and covered by Naya Rivera)

On a Sunday

the beautiful

Kelly Preston

has drifted away

TL

Henry van Dyke Poem: Reliance

“Not to the swift, the race:

Not to the strong, the fight:

Not to the righteous, perfect grace:

Not to the wise, the light.

But often faltering feet

Come surest to the goal;

And they who walk in darkness meet

The sunrise of the soul.

The truth the wise men sought

Was spoken by a child;

The alabaster box was brought

In trembling hands defiled.

Not from my torch, the gleam,

But from the stars above:

Not from my heart, life’s crystal stream,

But from the depths

Of love.”