Tag Archives: Death


Dust dances through the attic within shards of light slowly passing time along well worn planks. It’s magic they seek in the eyes of the beholder. They have no fairies or ghosts without the fertile or feeble minds staring in wonder.

Creeks and whistles play staccato games with swaying trees just beyond the pain. But this is a space of remembrance. A place where memories are free to roam through cob webs and yellowed paper.

Slowly I run my hand along wooden chests and metal straps. My mind travels along colorless photos of perfectly groomed alabaster faces wearing oversized suits and cinched dresses. I wonder how long it took these memories to arrive in my hands, in my mind, are they even mine.

I smell the struggle to open these boxes of yesterday. Places and moments are separate in the still morning light. Every box opens with a sigh and closes with a question. Is this real, was that then, or is this some cruel reminder of how distorted time really is. Minutes and hours are easy. Days and nights are bearable because tomorrow still exists. Past this yellow fades white, laughter sounds distant, and feeling is a remembrance or dream.

But I have what’s left of my memories in a box, that’s fortunate. I have captured time, or has it captured me, sometimes I wonder. What my hands can’t grasp my mind helps along. As the dust dances on in the light of a new day I’ll become the memory. A blessing and the curse of a life long lived.

Of Nature and Desire

Concentrically narrowing foliage chokes my optimism with caution. Thorns and petals stalk my path to a less humid endeavors. But this is how truth hides, just beyond the greenery withering in all of us.

The canopy has levels that reveal light one shard at a time, until your above the tangle of vines where there is no forest floor. All you see is beauty framed by heaven as fresh air wisps away the rot decaying below.

If only I could fly away to stone. An edifice imagined. Stolid and thoughtful granite curves that time hides. Water cascades over the riffs she’s etched in my strength. Sun glistens on the darkness creating black rainbows in the mist, and lichen warms the crevices of my souls.

The beauty of this carnage we call nature is odd, like love it takes great pains and grows with time, only to be passed on to the budding life below. The tallest trees see it while taking warmth from above, mocking us as their roots draw from our strength. Their saplings without us withering in the clutches of vines, but it’s beauty to the naive.

Life is a beautiful struggle between our nature and our ideals, between our needs and desires. Inside us the biological and psychological battles constantly feed on us like the worms that till our soul, but all we see are faces as we paint our landscape with beauty.

Lightning Strikes

Memories strike like lightning bolts full of anxiety leaving me frozen in time. You flash across my horizon in seconds I can’t see, but feel non the less. Each bolt rips a horizontal chasm in my reality as if within the streak of light is the other side of us.

Eyes dart inside my motionless body as the silence of something short of fear covers my thoughts like a blanket. Quietly I stare, like a noise or smell could change the trajectory of my life.

Is it hope or fear, or a wave of confusion. How did your memory become electric. Static and fluid chasing something short of dreams around my mind. You live within my hopes and fears now, like when you left.

You had till death do us part, I never had a divorce. Ill be married to you for ever. Together forever was your promise. You didn’t tell me it was your forever, without me, so now I stand here in the vacuum of us.

Memories aren’t dreams. Like panic isn’t fear. Together we created this sphere that spins within my soul, and now I awaken startled that anxiety is all I have left of us, but all storms pass and the memory of your smile still brightens my day.

So this is love and loss, memories and dreams, panic and fear. I struggle daily to not let this define us, and like a stormy day, the memory of your smile shines through to the other side of a new me.

I forgive you today, now that I understand you weren’t all that left. I understand you’re not coming back with the pieces of me you took. So now I fill those empty spaces with the pieces of you I kept, the good and the bad. But that’s life and loss, that’s us. A fragmented possibly of forever cut short by decades of if.



Cigarettes dangling from his mouth
One hand a hammer, the other nails
Talking in blue smoke rhythms
While the sound of work hammers on

Driving and talking our way to a beer
I was young and inspired by stories
A horse with needles drives behind us
Hidden in the blue smoke and dreams

2 week run before the plastic melts
Chain store relay wins the day
Cash fills the tank and veins
Through a blue smoke nod

Kids and old ladies cry or nag
But rainy days bring dollars
The roofing belt can’t hold
a few beers later we’re home

Then the vacuum comes hard
Bars and sweat bring clarity
Out there blue smoke dissipates
Cause possibilities live in here

Furloughed hopes twitch in buses
Stopped at desolate crossroads
No one is around to see your dilemma
Or the war within the blue smoke

A young kid and an old soul drive
hustling acrid asphalt streets
One dreaming in the light of day
The other hiding behind blue smoke

That last ride down south on 95
Passing time and experience along
Exits ramps and memories long gone
Like memories up in blue smoke


The sound of my heart echoes over the hills one thick heartbeat at a time. Sweat stains my soul as my breath catches the breadth of heights. So here I stand on the ridge of another crest with only the remnants of the valley to give me hope.

I pause to let the beat of my pulse catch the winds of time. It’s here, closer to heaven, I feel the weight of earth. All I have are thoughts and a clear view of where I came from, where I am, and all the places I can go .
The valley is dark and cold. Everything is wet with decay, but it’s here where life lifts up mounds to mountains, a hard place to live. The sun plays hide and seek with branches of faith. Surrounded by shadows masquerading as shade I shiver at how cold I can be.

These are the depths of despair that keep me moving towards a plateau. A barren mountain top where the sun beats down so hard the valley seems a respite. A windswept mountain top where all I hear are my thoughts reverberating off my soul lifting my spirits past where I feel.

The sun becomes my mirror. It reflects my desire for peace and love to unite my hopes and fears into a faith that transcends the path I must travel. I’m blinded by the light at times, but always aware of the darkness within a stare, a balance of nature.

And because I move, I enjoy the reflective moments. Because I rest, the labor is refreshing. And because I love, pain cleanses my spirit to new heights. My journey is all that’s mine. My paths are trodden with my steps, heavy and light. My steps are purposefully taken towards a more peaceful me.

I scream at the thunder, cry raindrops, and think bolts of lightening. I am my own storm howling off the mountains atop ages of decay, but my feet are always planted firmly on the ground. It’s here my struggles are rooted.


Life’s a trip, it’s like one big visit and suddenly we find ourselves over the euphoric optimism of times and places unknown, longing for the familiar smell and touch of home.

Understanding this I need to soak in every moment of a person, place, and time along this journey. That’s most likely the reason why we don’t know what’s on the “other side”. God is giving us a hint at the value of now.

It’s surreal to think that forever is out there, before us and after us, and that now is our life. Everything else is forever and only has echoes of us as a wisp on the tongues of those we impacted. The ones who grasped now the most are not the breeze, there the wind carried across the memories of many.

I know no more than the next guy about “after life”; but it seems the real value of the mystery is that it reveals the gift of now and the short temporary nature of life. This doesn’t have to be a religious statement, it’s a reality for all of us regardless of our faith. No matter what our faith, ethnicity, or social status we all are destined for a new birth into a tomorrow we can’t comprehend.

Folks speculate about reincarnation, a sort of do over type situation where we return through another birth as a new being. Sometimes as a human, or sometimes as an animal.

For some folks it’s more static and we go to permanent places like heaven or hell and live out whatever eternity is in bliss or agony.

There are some who believe we are no different biologically than a plant or fish. We just die! No “after life” or new chance; we just become compost. For some that’s a gloomy perspective, who knows.

I think I’ll just start with an “after life” thesis. Clinging to this belief will at least remind me that now is not a second, it’s our life. I’m gonna grasp each person, place, or thing and enjoy the emotional roller coaster knowing its a short ride, I’m gonna raise my hands in the air, let the wind blow through my hair, and scream with joy as loud as I can enjoying this moment we call life. It’s way to short for me to close my eyes for even a moment.

Losing my Mind!!!

Losing your memory seems to be an impossible, or extremely rare, occurrence. The memories are never really gone, they are unconscious, just beyond reach. The real problem seems to be the latent effect suppressed or lost memories have on shaping who we become. Unraveling these mysteries are both tragic and euphoric.

Hopes and dreams are similar to memories. Like memories in the future tense. They also can be lost and shape the decisions we make about who we are and who we want to be. They can also be euphoric or tragic in the realization phase.

We all have probably heard of the classic head injury, amnesia, and memory return story line. Someone had a terrible accident and awakens to strange folks they don’t know, who are really their family. Then the battle between who they are and who they want to be based on the lack of memory or hope begins. There are very tragic and uplifting stories around these scenarios.

When someone close to you dies your future memories based on your hopes die also. Like amnesia on the other side. Your ideas beyond today are shaped by a loved one and your expectations. Death puts a curtain over those hopes and blocks out what would have or could have been. Then you never really know, it’s black beyond the furthest hope.

Like the accident victim, the person left behind has to fill in the black spaces with light from a new source. We still feel, think, and dream; however it’s based in a new schema developing from now. From now on is the starting point for both victims. Whether your loss is a loved one or brain function, healing always starts now.

Here the convergence is solidified in the faint echoes felt, not heard, but directing our thoughts regardless. This game of emotional catch up is daunting, an adult is not supposed to be creating schema for basic emotional stimuli, these are childhood milestones.

Compare the reactions of these two different individuals and the parallels are enlightening. Some very generalized reactions are confusion and withdrawal, or extroverted behaviors void of previous known values. Lifestyle changes that make no sense to loved ones; a very threatening prospect for family members.

Its here the trouble begins. What worked before is rejected due to a past that doesn’t exist as an anchor for the future, or a future that doesn’t exist with an anchor that weighs you down. So now comes a chance to shape a new past, a safer past that supports today’s hopes and dreams for the future. Often this conflicts with loved ones desires for the person to be who they were. That can never happen. There is no where to go back to.

Seems to me once the individual realizes that there is a lifetime of memories ahead of them and they have a second chance to shape their life, family relationships and values get challenged and feelings get hurt. We all rely to some degree on the folks around us to stay in character for our life to remain constant. Kind of a selfish sentiment when I think of it.

We say we want our loved ones to change and grow, but do we put boundaries on the sentiments we have for loved ones? Is it fair to put the burden of our comfort on the growth of loved ones? How can we best support those who have tragedies in their lives? Not just the rare occasion of memory loss( but death, divorce, war experiences. Life changing events are that, life changing. Acceptance is possibly more critical during these times, tempered with patience and space for growth to occur and new memories to form new hopes and dreams.

Thinking about these situation has me considering if the loss of a life really has to be physical or natural, maybe some folks experience more than one death in a lifetime. Second is that the reconstructing of a life can be made more difficult by trying to include loved ones unwilling to accept growth and change within their circle of family and friends.

I hope I’m strong enough to enjoy the growth and change that will occur in the lives of the folks I love, even if it does mean distance between us. Love is the one constant and it has no boundaries with time or space, true love anyway!!!