Friday, May 9, 2008

Life is not

Life is not worrying that the pastor's wife will see your kid with a finger up, inside, or anywhere near his or her nose.

Life is not shielding yourself from certain forms of mass media, from certain personalities, from certain racial groups, from certain lifestyles, or whatever, JUST BECAUSE that's the good person mold that has shaped you.

Life is not concern about how well someone else's house is furnished.

Life is not just what YOU make of it; it's also what you allow others to help you make of it.

Life is not staying in an unhealthy relationship because you're insecure or feel it's your duty to start what you finished.

Life is not always what you think it is.

Life is not - in the biological sense - guaranteed.

Life is not grabbing all you can while you can.

Life is not necessarily jumping out of the way before you sense lightning may strike.

Life is not in the truest sense, after all, a thing, but rather, a Who.

Monday, April 14, 2008

please

please

please tell me

please tell me that look on your face

doesn't mean what I think it does

you're way too fine

to be caught up in me

it almost makes me lose respect for you

but then

how stupid of me

to reject a blessing?

no good clinging to outmoded ideals

that give no room to grow

and enjoy

even if only the fact

of your sweet creamy existence

so

if i may make one request

go easy on me

because

i perceive that you are strong

in many ways

yet...delicate

and so am i

Saturday, March 22, 2008

One of *those* deals

Set off for home in my dad’s old truck
With four warn tires an’ a charm for luck

They’d shown me how to fix it up real nice
Now it was up to me to go pay the price

Drove north I s’pose for an hour or three
Found the place nestled there in among the trees

Well, squatters been sleepin’ there in my house
Even firin’ a gun wouldn’t get ’em to rouse

Dreams like this make me stop and ponder
Am I old enough to be on my own and wander?

Or am I just too old to make a new start
Oh Lord, You’ll show me; change this ol’ heart

Thursday, January 24, 2008

24jan08

I saw a man as he stood between two buildings
Dressed all in black
Seemingly in control of the situation
Whatever it was
There was no one else around
I tend to think he's better than me
That he may be your alpha
But not your omega
Then I hear EJ sing of a space trip
Launching out into nowhere
Where no one else is
And I can't help but wonder
Would you go with me?
Will you be there?
Do I need you beside me?
OR is it just silly dreaming...

Saturday, December 8, 2007

Tribute

This is something in my family's cedar chest, written on the back of a coal miner's union memo dated 1957. I wanted to post this while it's still the 50th year of when my granddad Robert Ellis had some fun at the expense of a famous radio preacher:

Dear Rev. Roberts,

Once I was so puny I had to be led out to water, like a horse. I could not sleep or work at a position I like best, "Baking Sweet Bread". But one morning after a hard night I was listening to your healing broadcast over a local radio station and laying my hands on the radio I began to feel like a new person. I started to jump and my wife clenched me for fear that I had lost my buttons (as some people call crazy). I continued to jump, sway, and roll. However, after a spell of silence, I raised up and led my wife out to water.

I cannot thank you enough Rev. Roberts for your wonderful healing methods.

Your pal,

E. Pluribus Unum

Saturday, July 21, 2007

priorities (pt II)

From there, things kinda get predictable, although not necessarily conventional. Thing is, what confounds me more is not that my thoughts and feelings went there, but, that I never took that step. She was freakin' wide open, far as I could tell. No competition. Sure, probably hung out with guys in the neighborhood, but, socially, looked like clear air space. Kinda like when I was in 7th grade and spent a whole semester chatting up little blue-eyed Beth in science class and then not calling her at all that summer between watching old sitcom reruns and fixing up my bike. Priorities…

So, I never made the move. Not sure it was out of complacency, fear of the unknown, or respect for her as a person…I'd like to claim the third one but let's not be hasty. Seems there were a lot of other little questions out on the horizon of my conscience back then; ones that only maturity could articulate and to which nothing save a caring nature would attempt to seek answers…do you know your father? Who do you really need in your life? Are you frightened, threatened…are you lonely…incomplete? God, have mercy.

About a year after high school, another gal I knew was going for a certificate at the local voc school and ended up in the same class as Nellie. She said your name sounds familiar…oh, remember Billy Suchandsuch, used to hang around with Kenny? They're together now…yah, and she's…pregnant. Hmmm. Sounds like someone finally pitched a stake in that fallow ground.

Last time I saw Nellie was about that time, and under rather strange circumstances. My family was having a garage sale. One of many cars pulled into the driveway, parked, and out she came. I think I said hi to her. Then Billy gets out of the car to come up. Wassup, we exchange. Seems he hovers around her for a couple minutes, and they murmur amongst themselves until he alone goes back to the car. Dad and I were in the garage for those awkward moments as she stood over my nephew's table of baseball cards…and seemed to start crying.

At some point, she finally walked toward the car and they drove off. It appeared to us as though some of the cards may be missing, as though, perhaps, she were waiting for us to look away so she could obey her man and get it over with. But, neither my dad nor I are ones to get upset about these kinds of things, so we brushed it off and, well, we never spoke of it again.

Friday, July 13, 2007

priorities

In my second year of high school algebra, I can name two female students who were in the room. There was Tracy, the petite blond who at any time of year seemed to have tan legs to show off. Back in the late 1980s just one - any one - of those blue denim skirts you had bopping around simply shrouded a thousand mysteries. Tracy was not what you'd call "popular" but she definitely had the look, bright and noticeable, yet, probably too much grit to be part of a "crowd" per se. She didn't make a big deal about who she was dating, and she didn't hesitate to join in conversations with anyone else. But, she got the dudes' attention in those skirts nonetheless…overall: cool and hot; what's there not to like?

Then the other babe was Nellie. I'm not sure what it was that made me notice her. Most guys naturally go for the little firecracker blonde and that's that, and the side remarks shared among us dudes backed that up. But, Nellie was not Tracy. She's not petite. Actually, Nellie's tall for a girl, with legs from there to you-know-where. You'd never really know whether she's got a tan or not since you usually see her in jeans and t-shirts, or maybe a basic "top" as they say. Not much regard for color; then again, maybe there wasn't much need for it either. The important thing was her jeans fit her like a second skin forming a daily must-see. She's got a simply lovely face, warm smile, happy eyes, perky cheeks with some freckles and long light-brown hair to complete the package. She's a mild, unassuming, subtle – yet beautiful and charming - presence.

Over the course of the school year I pick up on a few things. She lives with her mom in a house trailer with their pit bull whose breed she defends vehemently. Pit bulls get a bad rap in her view, and hers is sweet as plum. Big-time Broncos fan and especially into John Elway (who was still tearing it up yet ten years later, btw). Heh, the way she talked sports almost made her one of the guys. But, there's a lot I never do pick up on. She's kind of, well, a dead zone. She doesn't project much emotion; there's no vibe or force field like with other chicks. And, so many questions… what do you think about as you fall asleep at night? Where do you see yourself in five years? What's your phone number? Of course, I never got around to that third one…

(to be continued)