I'm back...

It's been a long time, and much has changed. I'll post something soon- just saying hello again, my friend.

Love,
Me

And it became two.

The kindest people I've ever met
never had a dollar to spend
cause they spent it all on things like rent
and keeping their hungry mouths fed.

Lovin' their kids and their folks
and their pets and barely gettin' by.
But somehow the will of love
always provided the will to survive.

Twas rememberin' the days when I was in school
and chalkboards were still around.
we saluted the flag every mornin'
and didn't worry about the chemicals
on the playground

we were rich then, even though we were poor
we were happy because we didn't know.
or maybe we really did know
what mattered, that is.
Maybe it was easier to be happy back then
because we were just happy
to have a friend
my how the tables have turned
now we're too busy gettin' ahead.

I ask myself if I should have had my son.
wonderin' if the world will only break his heart.
askin' people to put down their guns
and open up their hearts
and their minds
and what little souls
they have left.

It's not too late you know.
If you dare to fight the good fight.
It's not too late you know
To make things right.


_________________________________

Twas thinkin'

9.8%

I was thinkin' today
while lookin' out the window of a bus
headed to a job interview
for a job I pro'ly won't get
cause no one is hiring
and I have nothin' to bribe them with
other than the sad look in my eyes.

Maybe I should bring a recording
of my children's cries next time
and play that quietly in the background
as I talk about my ten years
of experience.

Nah, they'd only be drowned out
by the sorrows and the woes
of the woman who came before me,
and the man sittin' in the hall waitin' his turn.
And his sister and her husband
all lookin for jobs,
and their neighbors
who lost their house,
and their neighbor's neighbors who's brother
came home from a war

that dug a hole
in this country's heart
so deep that every
single
person
still
bleeds.

And how we all meet in line
at the wellfare office
and how even the playin' fields are now
cause we're all broken.
Some wait for food 'assistance'
because they can't afford the
payments on the houses
they couldn't afford to buy.
And some are waiting for food 'stamps'
cause they don't give a shit
what you call it,
they're hungry.

This is not the America we saluted in school.
This is not the country who's birthday
we celebrated with sparkling fireworks,
followed with the oohs and ahhs and the
sheer joy from believing there was a place
on this earth so beautiful that it deserved
to be loved this much.

And that that place was ours.

But this isn't our America anymore.
And one question kills me every morning as I
send my boy off to preschool
and ever night as I tuck him into bed.

What will his America be?

Finally some good news to share

Dad has regained most of his ability to talk. He's even cracking jokes and talking about finances and whatnot. There are not words to express what this means to our family. Thank you for all your prayers and well wishes. If you believe enough in something, it can happen. I know this doesn't change the condition of his health, but at least we will be able to have our last great conversations while he is still here with us.

Massive Rant

There's this place that your mind goes that is yours and only yours. Barricaded by concrete and impenetrable by any outsiders. I can only compare it to true nothingness. To a silence and stillness so vast that there are no echos. Numbness, in a way that isn't numb, because to be numb you would have to know what it is to feel, and behind these walls there are no senses. Nothing to compare to and nothing to want or need. Just to be. This is the place my mind goes when I wonder out of the hospital doors. Trying to digest the big picture. Trying to learn the lesson and find that ever winding path that's supposed to lead to somewhere better than here. Anywhere is better than here. Or is it? Maybe here is the best place to be for me, for now. Maybe this is exactly where I am supposed to be. But by believing that I am believing in a certain destiny, even a God maybe. And how the hell is that going to help me. By tomorrow maybe I'll throw my hands up in the air and say "let it happen, let it go!". Throw out the road map, the self help books, and flush the medicine cabinet. Give in to the impulses, indulge in the senses, become a hedonist lover of all things that simply 'are'. Because that is simply how life is. We live, and we die. But it isn't so simple is it? NO! Because in the midst of that simplicity is all this love and suffering. Because we as humans NEED things, lots of things. Jobs, healthcare, mortgage loans, medicine, doctors, daycares, fresh produce, traffic signals, iphones, blah blah blah fucking blah. None of it does you any good. Really. While your busy achieving all of these things, the people you love most are dieing, and your time is wasted not learning from them. Not talking to them and hold their hands and kissing their cheeks, not hugging and laughing, not LISTENING. I can't take it anymore! To hell with it all.

I have seen the end on the horizon since the beginning.

Last year, after my Father's diagnosis w/ pulmonary hypertension, I knew it would not be long. I can remember saying to myself, that it felt like it was going to be Dad's last birthday last year. His 68th birthday is drawing near, just around the bend on September 6th. 68 is too young to die, but so many have tragically gone before their time,and my father has never let me to believe that I could be selfish enough to be ungrateful for the time I have had with him. If you read this and detect a tone of melancholy, you are right. I am saddened and my heart is breaking. No matter how old or how young a person maybe when they die, the ones left to grieve will do just that. Sometimes we are wise enough to rejoice in the same breath.

We received the news today from the doctors that his time is truly coming to an end. His heart is failing him, and there is nothing left to be done but make him comfortable. It could be this minute, tomorrow, or next year... but one thing is sure, it is trying to give up. And my father, with all his might is saying "No!" But sometimes the will to live outweighs the body's will to let go, and I am doing my best to prepare myself for this. What saddens me most, is that I did not take notes. That when he gave me advice as a youth, I turned a cheek out of arrogance. When he bestowed his wisdom to me as a parent, I quieted myself out of pride, and here now he can do no more than mumble my name and hold my hand. Here now, I trim his nails and brush his hair, and tell him about the beautiful tomatoes his grandson has grown in the garden as he looks off into the distance, seemingly gazing at the horizon of his life. I wish so much I knew what thoughts ran through his mind. His years in the Navy, his life by my mother's side, the sweet memories of his grandchildren and the sadness of leaving us all behind. A man with so many stories to tell. The epic novel of his life draws to an end so quietly, and is yet just a sorrowful chapter of my own tale. I hope he knows that all the greatness in me exists because of his love.

Dimensia...

Is it the cost you pay for bringing one back from death's door? To spend an hour with a man you have known your whole life, only to catch glimpses of the amazing person you know him to be.

It is as if he were a flower, which withers from the inside out. Whose colour fades and petals change to leaves. Now unrecognizable, but for that lingering aroma. And through my memory, he is vibrant again. In those glimpses when his eyes glimmer with joy and that twinkle of charm permeates. My father. How I love him. How I pray he will bloom again for me once more.