Poem for Today

In Good Times

In the top,
In the very highest,

Roller-coaster high,
Of this love,

When I feel like,

I am in the tallest tree a schoolboy ever climbed,

Surrounded by brushing leaves,

Like morning-time kisses all around me,
That is when I become terrified.

Getting tragically afraid that I will lose you,
Another thing gone.
I am terrified that I will have no love again,
No reason to go anywhere,

Forcing myself to be good to others all the time.

Because I know joy and peace - I fear it,
And also you.

Home...

This is all so very obvious but was on my mind this week...

We tend to associate "home" as a geographic concept, but of course it is more of an essence...more of a feeling of security, contentment and ease. Perhaps it is tied in to work, or being with someone. For some it may be the thrill of constantly being on the road.
If home is a sense of place and belonging, it could be gained anywhere.

In the constant upheaval of time and place, the most resilient people are those who may be able to make their home where they find it. They can dovetail their sense of home with whatever physical place they happen to be at. Definitely a useful skill, right up there with being able to sleep as soon as one closes ones eyes, no matter the place or time.

Poem for Today

Leaving

Packing quietly in early morning grey,
Stuffing things deep down...
Reaching to the bottom of my cheap and soft sided bag.

I watch you doze,
The silence of your old pain,
It is only a quick flicker in your lashes now,
You sigh and dream on.
I smile at the small noises you make when you sleep.

Your chest rises and drops,
I want to stop everything,
Climb back into bed to shelter with you

I am going soon,
And I hate for you to see me leave,
Even though it's you that drops me at the airport.

Not seeing me put away things,
It only makes it seem easier,
I still miss you,
So maybe one day I won't leave.

August 2009

Poem for Today

Paying

In loving,
In the promising that comes with it,
I can offer you all:
The end of my working life;
All the moments I spend browsing thoughts of you;
The little flashing numbers in bankers' accounts;
The leaving of home;
Traveling far away from parents;
One's country forgotten.

But, in the giving of this,
That's only the price of entry...
The cover charge of love,
Each taste then costs extra,
Lushly and exorbitantly priced.

Turning out the pockets of my life,
Giving up every dream and possession.
I feel like I am piling them on some altar,
Pouring them onto a silver collection plate.

The things I give up for you,
They lay around stupidly,
Heaped-up,
Like useless furniture after a flood,
And the sky still cloudy...

In the giving of these things,
I know I must ask nothing of you.
But love did not make me perfect,
Only more selfish,
So I hunger for my reward.



July 2009

Poem for Today

Traverse

I miss the smell of your sighs,
So hot in my neck,
I don't know if it is air or liquid.

Your breath pours over my face.

If I could end it for me now - I would,
Dissolved in this paradise,
Traversing with you between earth and deep sky.

I lose myself in you...
But you are the one who is breathing hard.

June 2009

USO

A friend of mine recently encouraged me to write, so I dug up some notes from my Iraq tour. I found notes I made in a large USO after I touched down in the States. So, here they are my thoughts (Amazing how difficult it is to read ones hand writing after 5 months...)


To appreciate the depth and breadth of our nation, the USO at one of the larger USO hub airports would give a good impression of the people in military service. Of course in any large airport you will see a broad arrayof people. There are young business travelers, Blackberry in one hand and laptop bag in the other; slim women that steal my heart with a sharp glance; young families with scattered children who seem lost and stressed; lovers looking tense, or happy or sad; youths coveting urban style with insanely baggy trousers and long white trousers.

When I travel it seems that I see the "separateness" of us all...The way we distinguish ourselves by dress, accoutrements and manor.

The USO at the larger hub airports is a place for service members to take a pause and seek some food or a place to sit down and hang out. The room is crowded and I manage to squeeze into a place on a couch. I see soldiers (no other military branches today) sprawled on the chairs in all manner of repose. Some are eating, some dozing, contorted into tight corners. The impression get is of a bunch of floppy limbed teddy bears who have been put into a box and then shaken up and tossed on the floor. Legs are where arms should be, and heads are on the floor with feet on armrests. Every race seems represented here and male and female. Everyone is young, and I feel like the oldest person here. Many seem to be just out of basic training, with no unit or rank insignia. What a jumble of people and baggage!

The difference between my compatriots in the USO and the civilians that are outside is that 1) we are all dressed the same 2) something else, some shared knowledge...perhaps nothing more than the concept of waiting, or one of a shared discomfort

There are many reasons for entering service...as many reasons as there are people in the Army...For me, like may others I lseek to find a feeling of belonging.

Wild Sky

The sky is wild this evening. Running like gray racehorses tearing across the sky. The clouds are billowing on top, but cut like a straight line on the bottom. The shades of grey are sullen and bold, and the speed that they move with makes me feel their power.