Know That I Loved Life

Know that I stood in the painted caves in which they dwelt and took a bit of them away

I felt them as they stood behind me, hands upon my shoulder, helping to point my way

I saw fully my own short cycle in the informal death of insects and other forms of life

I knew eternity in the long pause between metronomic, meditative breaths

Know that I have felt life so very strongly that it has brought me to tears

I have loved and been loved for all of my best years

I have howled to the wind, the stars and the vast cold emptiness above

I caught sideways glances at the eternity into which my consciousness always slid

Know that my nostrils quivered and I needed to run off in the cool twilight

I understood that I wasted the vast proportion of the tiny time allotted to me

I watched those who gave me life as they showed me how I, too, must pass away

I struggled with and worried over unimportant issues, for far too many years

Know that I take the shame of certain actions with me as stones I cannot grind

I thank all of those, anonymous or dear, who always helped me in my blindness

I plunged onwards reckless and without direction too full of selfish cynicism

I came very late upon some small understanding of those who just quietly do what is right

Know that I could not accept my weakness and imperfections for far too long

But I was engulfed by the silence between the clock ticks on a Winter afternoon

I had to totally lose my way to realize I had never considered where I was going

I only began to escape my emptiness when at last it began to fill me up

         

Know that I was ever grateful for the sentience blindly granted me by the life force

I worshiped the wondrous cosmos but shunned all forms of religious orthodoxy

I struggled to express myself as intensely as the marlin, the tuna and the dolphin

I was taught to think and to question only to be forced to accept and to play along

Know that I believed in comfort and efficiency always proceeding hand in hand

I am ashamed of our unending commitment to hate and death through war

I am embarrassed by our thoughtless, foolish trampling of this sustaining earth

I believe that we are far too many now, to be so reckless, wasteful and error-prone

Know that I do not strive to attain so-called heaven and have no fear of any hell

I believe my thoughts and actions will gradually dissolve within the great entropy, over time

I fear the permanent loss of my mind more than being dead forever

Planned Departures

        Globally, Over 1 million people a year die by suicide - WHO

He punched the cruise control, undid his safety belt and aimed for the tree

          He lived several moments, merged with the wreckage and branches

The car idled in the garage, a hose running from its exhaust into the window

          The CD changer played on and the dead man spilled a bit of red wine

The shotgun he had fired with his toes lay near his crumpled torso

          The inside of his head splattered and misted the wall behind him

The last step took him over the cliff and the acceleration energized him

          Fully awake hitting the rocks he never made another movement

He beat his wife, finished the case of beer and then called the police

          He threatened them with his empty shotgun until they riddled him with bullets

He saved up his pain meds, though he suffered, yet he remained quite silent

          One evening he took them all and drowned quietly in his own vomit

After drinking for hours they roared off upon their powerful new jet skis

          The force of their impact killed him even before his friend drowned

He overate and then smoked, drank heavily and laid about for many years

          The crushing pain in his chest came one day, like a prize in the mail

She lay in the now cold bathtub water stained pink with her blood

          Her wrists were neatly slashed and her shapely legs were nicely shaved

She said her goodbyes to each of the family as they gathered all around her

         She willed herself to be gone and simply ended the pain and the weakness

He was strapped into the explosives through a mumbling of prayers and praise

          After the Mullah triggered his flight by cell phone, his family celebrated

Lost in a stoned depression his subconscious purposely ignored a dump truck

          His shabby little car was crushed as it ground him into a juicy pulp

Left for another, she shortly stepped off the platform just in front of a train

          There was not much left to clean up and the funeral was very small

Sealing dry cleaning bags over his head, he sat quietly and turned quite blue

          Condensation had formed by the time his youngest child entered the room

With a noose round his neck attached to the ceiling he kicked away the chair

          He struggled gagging in the air for a five minute eternity

He strapped on a great rock, tied up his hands, then jumped into the water

          he took a breath at ten feet, choked and inhaled but one more time

She overdosed not quite on purpose but surely not purely by accident

          The attendants discussed the fine augmentation work done on her breasts

Fortified with a quart of vodka, he vowed to end this Winter in the snow

          He was not cold for long and soon he fell asleep and did not awaken

Poised high over the bay with a strong tide rushing out far below, he leaped

          Crabs, mollusks and scavenging fish cleaned him up pretty quickly

Unable to stand his continuing success, he put his small plane into a tail spin

          I read that he was a good pilot on a clear day, without mechanical issues

Facing life with no possibility of parole he dissed the leader of the blacks

          One day later they knifed him to ribbons underneath the showers

Depressed over a lack of attention, her suicide attempts kept her alive

          As a fatal overdose overtook her, she realized her mistake

Strung out on the last of his crank he began to mix another batch

          The explosion and fire burnt his toothless face beyond all recognition

Flushed with an early success the guitarist bought his first new motorcycle

          His long golden hair was matted with the contents of his skull

At midnight of the shortest day the medicine man finished his great circle

          His people evinced little sadness as he was now with their ancestors

Far from any trail he found a spot beneath a spruce facing south with a grand view

          He took the pills and waited for the crows, hoping never to be found

He Rides With Me

He rides with me

          Long bony fingers rest lightly upon my shoulder

He stands behind me

          He casts a shadow upon me even under noonday sun

He takes rest with me

          He reeks of the earthy smell of my own decay

He laughs with me

          He sees my toothless skull beneath the sandy soil

He looks at me

          From somewhere within my dying father’s eyes

He comforts me as he holds me close

          when I can no longer bear the pain

He waits with patience for me

          While my short moments come to pass

He drinks with me

          And he helps me to see how old you know I have become

He trains with me

          As I prepare to take him on

He believes in me

          And truly I can never fail him

He flees with me

           We look back for him together

He stays with me

          Always just a careless moment from leaving for good

He prays with me

          With his toothy grimace, ever unchanging

He closes his hollow eyes with me

          In case the bell should toll while I sleep

He reminisces with me

          His dry cackle sending the noisy crows into the air

He takes to the road with me

          As we seek the kindness of some good soul to bury me

He rolls the dice with me

          Someday those grinning snake eyes will come up at last

He gives thanks with me

          For without life he does not exist

He takes chances with me

          But never does he lose his grip upon my naked soul

He grows careless with me

          And he lets me make it easier for him to do his job

He grieves with me

          And his tears are as cold as any November rain

He forgets with me

          Yet through dreams he always keeps in touch

He smells the Spring with me

          Even as we rest alone in the darkness of February

He rages with me

          But there is no rage to be found within him

He breathes with me

          And every single breath reduces my precious finite store

He believes with me

          Without any wavering from the goal that we share

He grows fatigued with me

          And his shadow increases in its length and darkness

He wastes time with me

          For to him it is indeed just the same

He gasps for air with me

          Thereby gaining more of his real voice

He absorbs the world with me

          As he prepares to begin my sifting back to the earth

He goes to war with me

          Soundlessly he greets those with my brothers

He answers the call with me

          Steadying my gait upon this pre-ordained path

He contemplates forever with me

          Yet he is but the mute doorman to the void

He is frightened with me

          But he whispers that soon I will fear no more

He tells lies with me

          Only laughing out loud when I lie to myself

He stumbles off to sleep with me

          My snoring and my mumbling help him to frighten children

He fades away with me

          Until my bones are bleached so white and very pure

He stays at home with me

          Quiet and clean until my time has come

He struggles for life with me

          And in the end he is there beside me

He makes deals with me

          Somehow I miss the details just like all the others

He asks for mercy with me

          For she is, after all, his saintly sister

He views the microcosm with me

          His hand ever upon me, watching their lives play out

He grows pale with me

          But for him, it is a sign of increasing strength

He makes foolish mistakes with me

          Just to illustrate how close he always remains

He reeks of life just like me

          Maybe a little more damp but very earthy

He sits up with me

          Staring into the dark with those huge empty eyes

He drives too fast with me

          His grip ever tightening upon my shoulder

He helps himself with me

          And he might envy all the fat that he will never have

He watches the sunset with me

          Our dusty smiles and tattered looks, one and the same

He heads off alone with me

          Always just as close as that last mistake

He smiles with me

          For he is always grinning, in any case

He kisses ass with me

          It is the kiss of death no matter what

He finds time with me

          Just the same he counts the knots every day

He loses consciousness with me

          Knowing all the while if it will return

He blasphemes with me

          Laughing at the slightest unease that I might feel

He gets quite sick with me

          Finding my feverish ruminations entertaining

He fucks with what I call my soul

          But that is neither his real job nor his true purpose

He slays the enemy with me

          And together we watch ourselves lay down til I die

He finds fault with me

          Shrieking with inner joy at the life that’s left within me

He wanders aimlessly with me

          Every stop a ticket punched on my chosen route

He stands in the rain with me

          Our dirty clothes all wet in the shadow of a rainbow

He fears the unknown sounds of the night with me

          My anticipation seems to draw him nearer

He performs one routine task after another with me

          A monotony of boredom before my delivery to the emptiness

He sees all this suffering with me

          His whispers of the causes and the meaning, I never quite hear

His vision fades with mine

          As the grasp I only thought I had upon the world grows ever weaker

He stands shivering in the snow with me

          But he is ever so much colder without any flesh

He pays back debts with me

          And in the end I still owe him everything

He becomes lost in thought with me

          But those brief moments are deducted just the same

He strays off course with me

          Yet the path we take remains just as straight

He makes friends with me

          During that brief interval between the ashes

He performs unspeakable acts with me

          Faithful witness to any heinous crime

He ignores advice with me

          Howling madly at the moon as we lurch along our way

He finishes jobs with me

          Every motion just one more decision that cannot be undone

He bites feeding hands with me

          But there is no joy within him from my folly

He watches others pass away with me

          Silent and alone, his emptiness fills my thoughts

He stays far away with me

          But no matter where I roam, where I am going always stays as close

He casts down his eyes and I am grateful

          As some kind soul digs my small place

He works through the pain with me

          My age a weight that slowly increases my burden

He fears for the safety of my loved ones with me

          Never losing sight of the next possible random life changing event

He evolves from dust to dust with me

          No simple journey but certain just the same

He waxes and wanes from ashes to ashes with me

          And it is not like he has never been there before

He gazes fixedly with me

          Wondering how I could have forgotten our noble cause

He founders and fails with me

          Knowing that I reach his goal under all possible scenarios

He considers the devil with me

          Not explaining what I will only understand when he shows me

He questions god with me

          But his job is finished before my nails stop growing

He feels immortal as much as me

          For he cannot realize that he, too, must perish when life is no more

He looks directly into the sun with me

          Still, no light can penetrate those empty sockets

He frolics by a fantastically colored sea with me

          He is so sober he never knows that he is stoned

He bears witness with me

          His mute testimony forever ignored by the righteous

He stops passersby with me

          They sense our closeness and try to get away

He seeks the eternal with me

          But he cannot know that some day he too will have no more work

Like time to a stone

like the long spring twilight so slowly fading but not quite ending

          the dark winter's night without any real beginning

like the endless school year when we were still young children

          time, to a stone, as it is ground into sand by a stream

like the trees never growing though seen every day

          the changes on our own faces, so difficult to notice

like the loss which hurts less often than it did at first

          the future that contains us knowing only one direction

like the threads that lie scattered without cause or effect

          the lines of our lives flow then end, with no change in pressure

like the volcanic islands which arose, flourished and were swallowed

          the constant roar of the ocean as it is pounds away on a shore

like the day of the year which shifts light into dark

          the memory of a lonely figure fading off into a dusk

like the smallest of details which plagues one for long years

          the certainty of our passing can never quite be ignored

like the vision that visits in time of our greatest need

          there is this mute summons served without any notice

like the confusion that we sense at the center of so many things

          comes a slow perception that quietly aids in our adjustment

like the fearless zeal of those who know very little

          the honesty of children which cannot be ignored

like the brief moment we spend as ourselves on this blessed earth

          our un-measurable fraction of all of time grows ever smaller

like the two atoms fusing brightly in a far-off star

          the smallest cause can bring about the biggest change

like the simplest ideas that transform entire societies

          only the best teachers can explain all things to their children

like the way that details appear when one walks upon the land

          the faster we can go the less we are able to notice

like the myriad drops forming a river that’s now lost in the ocean

          those experiences unfolded into someone we had known

like the way the dawn ends so very quickly

          the morning builds quite slowly and then disappears

like the distance light travels while we are sleeping

          the multiverse measures our allotment with utmost precision

like the strain in our voices that was never there in the past

          the stranger with failing eyes shuffling up to the mirror

like the end of the day as we finally drift off into sleep

          the journey of the dying is taken alone, by one and by all

like the time that you wake up not a child anymore

          the days of our wisdom pass quickly in a dimming of our senses

like the home only dreamed of and the childhood but imagined

          the long distant future is as empty for any as for all of the others

like the many days so far gone that we have forgotten when we forgot them

          the unknown we emerged from lies infinitely open before us

like the things which once moved us and the songs in our hearts

          a quiet contemplation becomes a means to our end

like the far distant stars which move but little no matter our puny time frame

          things pass so quickly for so long and then comes nothing more

like the years passing by ever faster than we can grasp them

          the volume of uncertainty increasing geometrically

like the jagged lightning, we are hurled to the earth

          the endless days that follow leave but a random pile of pearls

like the holy blue planet in whose shallows we bathe in the light

          the darkness eternal surrounds while enfolding us into long night

like the countless tiny creatures with crucial lives to attend to

          the nearness of the emptiness spurs us on to but small actions