Archive for category the good
rain is required
Posted by Daniel in the good, the observations on July 28, 2010
Nothing grows without the rain. It washes away. It nourishes. It sustains life. Anyone who isn’t enjoying the rain is either dead or finding it through some other, filtered, managed, controlled means.
So that’s the question: How do you want your rain? How do you want your life? Filtered, packaged in a bottle with a pretty label, and costing more than many people have for all of their sustenance for an entire week? Or straight out of the sky, scooped out of rivers, falling down your face, and dripping off the ends of your hair, mixed in with fits of laughter, impromptu races where the winner doesn’t matter, and faded t-shirts clinging to the heaving, breathing, living, satisfied chests of children?
old words with new meaning
Posted by Daniel in the good, the understanding on July 20, 2010
You were just a child. You had boyfriend pants, brightly dyed hair, both of your nipples pierced, and your head tilted toward the world. Your sweet, flowing innocence was evident in every looped “l”, every dotted “i”, and every praise for an unsmoked cigarette.
the first show
We were not underscored by the racing sound
of freeway cars.
But instead, by the rush of blood in ears.
We were not lit by the sodium orange light
of a parking lot.
But the star light was at just the right angle.
We did not have the solid metal support
of a car door.
Though we both found something strong to lean against.
In the urgency of the laugh that never came
we realized we didn’t really need
a dress rehearsal.
Instead, we called it opening night.
fat free kisses
Posted by Daniel in the good, the understanding on May 17, 2010
[I've been writing a lot of poetry lately. Little snippets mostly. Bits waiting to be grown into something bigger. But they are less fun locked away and unshared. And no thought is really ever finished. So, here they are, still growing...]
Our hands were clasped to hold the liner notes of sad songs we sang together.
I’m a sucker for a soft, sad song, don’t get me wrong. But, no matter how soft
or how thick, a blanket of sadness just doesn’t keep me warm at night.
In the end, all we really had is a handful of wishes and far far too much sadness.
So you can call this whatever you want but I’m throwing your toothbrush away.
and I’m building the rest of my life on blocks of happiness.
a beautiful storm
I only hope
that the storms stay for one more night –
the quiet tip-tap turning
to roaring and pounding then
back to tip-tap again.
I only dream
of rain drops speckled on the shoulders
that lean so comfortably into me,
hair clinging to the sides of your face
in the same paths that I would
draw my fingers down again and again.
I only wish
that when the storm lifts
the moon is shining full
upon curves now glistening
in the blueish light.
The secure rise and fall of breath –
the peace of being that sits
before the next beautiful storm.
circles never end… until they’re broken
Posted by Daniel in the good, the understanding on March 30, 2010
Yesterday was my 7th wedding anniversary.
We’ve been separated for over a year. We’ll likely be no longer married within a month or two. I never wanted to split up in the first place, not because of my wife, but because of the commitment we made and because of my child. Despite all of this, I still had cause to celebrate.
the next best thing
Posted by Daniel in the good, the understanding on February 21, 2010
new york calls to me in rain drops and puddles–
the pit pat tapping call to something more.
like your name on my lips, each pause intended.
each drop more important than the last.
but I know your song.
I know its volume and its capacity to fill.
it is not the rain which never ceases.
I am not suited by a place.
home is not tangible.
yet it is so easily described by tangible things.
things like you, new york.
and the next best thing.
A To Do List
Posted by Daniel in the good, the understanding on January 31, 2010
To Do List
It’s really bittersweet that my To Do list actually looks like this. That, among all those other important things, I can easily, plainly spell out that terrible four letter word: divorce.
behind every door
Posted by Daniel in the good, the observations, the understanding on January 6, 2010
every door leads to a different path. but every path offers similar views.