Relinquishment

August 7

First day of autumn 

On ancient calendars 

First brushes of colour

Hint of changes

On their way

Welcome or not

Dark

Cold

Snow

Shadows

Starkness 

 Death

That offers the costly

Olive branch

Of rebirth 

zjm ~

Proof Positive

(For Edward Abbey)

In the desert

The searing desert

The desert with its waves

A sea of hidden color melding into an ocean with no relief of water

Turbulence that swallows the whole

I hold a picture taken in morning shadows of hanging grapes against morning fog on the sea

 I look at it, and see me and you

"Goddamn, we were here

There we are"

Cave paintings

raw and muted colors

markings from scrapings of rock against rock

Everybody trying to leave a scraping somewhere that is recognized

embraced as real

as beauty

Stood at Donner Pass yesterday on July 13 ... my dyslexic 65th birthday

Rather, I sat in my car looking out the window over Donner Pass

 Hurts less to not move and look

Think Moses felt that way?

The wagons of the Dead are long gone

as are the cannibals with the will to survive

All that remains

is the color of the lake

the formations of rock 

the sky 

the trees 

all inviting one

to rest

to recline into free fall

Fading shadows of the encroaching Nevada desert circle me

scattering my memories and sense of self

But morning returns and desert air enters and departs at will

Here I am

Cave painting on the desert floor

Donner Pass behind me

along with the muddled fog on the sea

~ zjm

Reno

14 July 2019

The Estate of Zaudliza

(My New home)

Day 21

"Life is pain, highness. 

Anyone who says differently is selling something."

~ William Goldman 

My physical pain today, riveting through my body

Each breath a hammer blow

Can't breathe

Can't think

Can't write

Not even a breath of respite 

As if I am deconstructing in front of myself

me, the only witness

I scream

I weep

I cry out

And then

I give thanks

~ zjm

Another Morning

Just an ordinary day

Beginnng quietly with phantom reflection

Of what it still means to be here

On earth

Taking air

Accelerating into conversation among friends and strangers at a coffee bar

Deadly spiders in Australia 

Alice Cooper’s Spider Show and love ballads

~ His influence on Michael Jackson’s Thriller

And last night’s Wailers show in Quebec City

Moved on to the new Spectrum offices

Lots of white blue and black office decor

Accented by lurid  unnatural light

Staffed by a hum drum millennial 

With barely one foot in this world

We stood near to one another

Two patrons dreading the ‘service’ to follow

She, 70-80ish

Me, 60-70ish

In the hushed silence of another business day

I returned the internet router and modem 

From my just foreclosed upon home

While she shuffled through papers

“I suppose you will need to see the death certificate”

“Yes, in order to change the name on the accounts”

A new kind of hush was born while

Hum drum millennial left for the back room

Without a word or gesture

To scan the proof of no life

Needed to update records of the living

I reached and touched her arm

“I am so sorry”

“Thank you,” her voice trembling

As she placed her face between my beard and shoulder

Both hands around the back of my neck

Hum drum millennial returned from the back room

Scanned death work in hand

Office muzak undisturbed

Computer keys altering the reality

Of everything but the human

My kiosk companion grabbed my free arm as I moved  to the door

My baston easing the way

“Take good care of yourself, man”

“You too, ma’am”

Our tears embracing

~ zjm

The Difference

Kids give up on their parents

In a way

Parents can never give up on their kids

~ zjm

W. B. Yeats

As I thought of these things, 

I drew aside the curtains and looked out into the darkness, 

and it seemed to my troubled fancy 

that all those little points of light filling the sky 

were the furnaces of innumerable divine alchemists, 

who labour continually,

turning lead into gold, 

weariness into ecstasy, 

bodies into souls,

the darkness into God; 

and at their perfect labour my mortality grew heavy, 

and I cried out, as so many dreamers and men of letters in our age have cried, 

for the birth of that elaborate spiritual beauty which could alone uplift soul

 weighted with so many dreams.

Uncle Walt

Uncle Walt was correct, but only in part...

The truth is ... we WILL contribute a verse

For better and worse

At best, the path behind us will be strewn with light and darkness

Good intention and broken effort

Touches of love and kindness

Inflicted sorrow and pain

With the memory of others

Our only legacy

And a bended knee
Beneath the garish sun

~ zjm