Three new poems for a Free Pamphlet Memorial Day.
(I remember being young. The joy of a wide-open holiday weekend.)
Epic journey.
roam freely,
young luminous gods
i was one, once
adventuring for the first time
in what were then-new
golden meadows.
they had come out of the woods, and
she is covered in a shawl
her beaming soul uncoverable
the boy with the lock of gold
hair falling into his face has
taken to a walking stick,
the black-haired boy
is walking backward, looking out
for the maiden
you are all in love
the boys,
each boy to the girl
whatever you will choose
it can be an
epic journey
young luminous gods
i was one, once
adventuring for the first time
in what were then-new
golden meadows.
they had come out of the woods, and
she is covered in a shawl
her beaming soul uncoverable
the boy with the lock of gold
hair falling into his face has
taken to a walking stick,
the black-haired boy
is walking backward, looking out
for the maiden
you are all in love
the boys,
each boy to the girl
whatever you will choose
it can be an
epic journey
(I remember my father, Jack. This was one of his favorite weekends.)
My Dad called.
I had a dream my dad called me last night.
He’s dead now, a year and a half.
I was staying over at a girl’s place, around 6AM
her phone rings and it’s my dad:
Sorry, don’t mean to be checking up on you, but….
I was amazed he knew where I was.
I remember the time when I was 23, back living
under his roof, when some cops came by the
studio one morning because I stayed out all night
in love
without calling. It was late, I was really torn,
wake them up, or chance the
consequences (which I did.)
Then, I was pissed.
Now, I love that he did that.
Again.
He’s dead now, a year and a half.
I was staying over at a girl’s place, around 6AM
her phone rings and it’s my dad:
Sorry, don’t mean to be checking up on you, but….
I was amazed he knew where I was.
I remember the time when I was 23, back living
under his roof, when some cops came by the
studio one morning because I stayed out all night
in love
without calling. It was late, I was really torn,
wake them up, or chance the
consequences (which I did.)
Then, I was pissed.
Now, I love that he did that.
Again.
(My lovely Mom still loves her Memorial Day routines.)
One of the million reasons I love my Mom.
caught another racoon in
the cage in the attic, she hears
when they’re rompin’ around
third one this year (gotta find that
hole.)
the cage in the attic, she hears
when they’re rompin’ around
third one this year (gotta find that
hole.)
so I had to spend 2 hours
yesterday w/ Tony, listening
to George Harrison, driving
driving #3 at least 40 miles away
(like the experts say)
into the country.
yesterday w/ Tony, listening
to George Harrison, driving
driving #3 at least 40 miles away
(like the experts say)
into the country.
And my mom was happy, because
i remembered exactly where
we let him off, because
she’s pretty sure she heard
two and when we catch his
brother, we’ll be able to
drop him off in the same
neighborhood.
i remembered exactly where
we let him off, because
she’s pretty sure she heard
two and when we catch his
brother, we’ll be able to
drop him off in the same
neighborhood.
(Peace and love to you and your’s. Bring home the troops. Clean up our own backyard. Use less energy. Keep rock alive. TB)
haiku
2 responses so far ↓
Scot // May 24, 2008 at 11:58 am |
Tim
the one about your dad–good one, perfectly said.
David Rheins // May 24, 2008 at 2:00 pm |
my favorite image is the two hour drive with Tony listening to George Harrison. My Sweet Lord, indeed.
thanks for being part of the free pamphlet Memorial Day extravaganza.
And, Happy Race Day. Good luck at the Award Dinner. I know you guys will rock the house once more.