can’t explain…
could not love you
more if I tried
and there is no trying
to love you
as much as I do.
probably other people
just as kind, good, strong
as you
but I don't love them
just you.
Jean
Make believe…
Originally posted: May 31, 2008
Let's pretend
we're an old
married couple,
Still in love and
still liking each other.
We know the
sweet spots
and the soft spots.
We can still find
the hot spots.
I'll cook your
favorite dinner.
We'll watch a
favorite movie.
…what do you mean,
it's getting late?
When did you join
a bowling league?
Slow Rain
First published: Monday, February 01, 2010
Three days like this. slow rain.
blanket gray sky. still air.
dull light.
and slow rain.
you must look for it on purpose.
no announcing rumble or
flashing light blades. only slow rain.
slow rain does not fall in drops, it seems.
but a veil of wet that lays itself
silently, softly across the outside world then gathers
tiny pellets that roll, slide
and dangle off all edges
slipping to the ground below.
slow drip...slow drip...slow drip.
all day. through the night.
slow rain.
Tipsy
If I told you
I'm just a little
bit drunk
as I'm writing this
will you think
less of me?
It's been a long time...
for a lot of things.
Including drinking too much.
I miss the other things
more.
Continue reading →I don’t need no stinkin’ rules… do I?
it is my inclination,
when there is no stipulation,
to run amok
until I'm stuck
in full-blown consternation.
my half-wit trail blazing
can leave me more than crazing.
I huff and wheeze
and groan and squeeze,
stuck in mental constipating.
I'm planning propositions
based on learned intuitions.
one good deal
would grease the wheel,
and keep me out of institutions.
if someone did the laundry
that would lessen much the quandary,
to leave more time
to make more rhyme
and go back to being bawdry.
She stopped struggling…
First published on Sunday, April 12, 2009
He lifted her skirt.
"Oh my pretty girl." he whispered.
"You wore the garter belt I like so much."
He almost regretted killing her quite yet.
~
Married five years. They both wanted children.
Or, so he thought.
Her first mistake was leaving the birth control pills in her lingerie drawer. With a bracelet he'd never seen before.
People get careless when their deceit goes on too long.
That was six months ago and he'd been collecting evidence and plotting ever since. His original plan did not include killing.
He wanted to catch her in the act, beat the shit out of whichever prick was there and, spend some months making her life miserable.
In the end, though, the idea of long, drawn out drama was not appealing. Better to end it quickly and move on.
When his job necessitated traveling, he called her every morning and she called him every evening.
Turned out that schedule left her evenings free for other things.
When he saw this week's schedule had him working two separate projects, he decided it would be the best scenario for covering his tracks. He wasn't due to come home for two more days. That would explain why the vase of roses was still on the dresser with a card that said, "Can't wait to see you tomorrow. Love, Joe."
The dead, naked guy beside her on the bed was Sam.
Sam's neck was twisted in a most unnatural angle. As was hers.
No blood. No mess.
He reached up to close her eyes and pull her skirt down a bit.
He couldn't help but leave her, his wife, with a tiny bit of dignity.
Living in a heavily treed area with distant neighbors made it easy to hide his car and walk unnoticed to the house. With several hours of moonless dark still in the evening, he'd have no trouble going back the way he came. He'd be back at the hotel in plenty of time to make his morning call to her. And leave a loving message.
Perhaps Joe, the bouquet-guy, would be the one to find this scene. If not, he'd make another call tomorrow night, leave another message and then call her sister to ask if she'd seen his wife.
Either way, he would be the broken-hearted, grieving husband however he got the tragic news.
He walked to the bedroom doorway and looked back to say,
"It was fun while it lasted, wasn't it?"
I seeeeeeeee the light…
Another post from Jean from March 26, 2009
as dim as it may be...
Hallelujah brothers and sisters,
it is now all right with me.
praise cheeses, hail madre',
let's go and sin no more.
mea culpa, take a gulpa.
don't forget to wash your feet.
speak your tongues and flagellate,
shout the message far and wide.
no more sinners. no more sinners.
be good. let go. let guide.
I want to be as holy
as the neighbors up the street.
help me, help me lawdy.
this could take most of the week.
Amen. Amen. Amen I say to you.
Amen. Amen. Amen and genuflect.
Lettuce prey.
Time Flies
re-posted from March 5, 2011
hello,
Where have you been?
so much time passed
again.
since then life has changed
in ways, yet, somehow
stayed the same.
Everyone is older
rarely wiser from what's seen.
history repeats,
mankind weeps
and looks away.
eeriezistahbul…
A short story from Jean ...
"So, you're a carpenter and a wood-carver?" she asked.
He smiled. "And anything else I need to be at the moment."
She caught a movement in the trees to her left.
Felt herself drawn to the movement and in less than a blink she was in the trees, in the mist.
"Are you frightened?" the mist asked.
"No. Should I be?"
It said "Darlin', you've never been safer."
She watched as features took soft shape; dark hair, even darker eyes that smiled. The faint form of a strong, healthy body.
She wrinkled her brow. "I can't see your clothes but you aren't naked, either. Oh, shit. Are you a ghost?
Why does it feel like I know you?"
"Because you do. In a way. You know me even though we've never met. I'm not a ghost. You're seeing my soul.
And, it's your soul that I'm talking to right now."
With a gasp of recognition she said "I didn't know you were gone! I was coming here to meet you."
"I told everyone it was happening. Turned out to be sooner than I thought. No tears, babe.
This is a better way."
"We were friends." she whispered.
"That hasn't changed. Except it's even better now. Listen to me... there is no human way to imagine this. It is perfection here. Accept that. You'll feel better. I was wrong about a lot of it. Or, at least the way I wrote about it."
"You were wrong? Imagine that." she smiled.
"Don't be a smart-ass. I tried the best I could. Just like you. People make a struggle out of it and it doesn't need to be. Actually, we don't get a choice. This is the way it is. This is, I am, nothing is anything like anyone has ever been able to imagine. It is unknown until you get here."
She tried to glance back over her shoulder, where she had been. How long ago?
"Don't worry about your friend." The mist knew what she was thinking. "No one can see you here. When you go back, he won't know you've been gone. There is no 'time' here. It's all 'now', and now is forever. Now and forever are one in perfection. This is not the end, there is no stopping."
"What about the end times?"
"They've come and gone many times and will continue. They are never-ending, too."
She hesitated. "What about the Son?"
"Same as us. He lived. He tried. He died. He's fine."
"And the Bad Ones?"
"They're here, too. Just not here here. Another part of the perfection of the perfect balance. Another unimaginable."
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"Because you need it the most and you doubt it the most and you want it the most. Now go back to the party."
"Will I see you again?"
"Of course. You'll see everyone, all the time, at the same time. Always. Go for now. Let life bring your stories and remember you are loved."
.
.
The carpenter was staring at her. "You're looking a bit pale. Am I boring you?"
"Oh, no. It must be jet lag. Something like a dozen time zones and I get here three hours before I took off. Or, something like that." She blushed.
"Well, how about I walk you back to your hotel and you try to get a good night's sleep? Would you let me take you to breakfast tomorrow and show you around a bit?"
She took out her notebook. He offered a pen. She looked at his face, dark hair, darker eyes and said,
"Well, my plans have changed a bit. So, yes. I'd like that."
She wrote her number on a corner of the page, tore it off and gave it to him. Then she wrote:
'his eyes matched the sky, both wonder and thunder.'
Feeling a soft breath on her neck, she glanced at the trees, saw the mist fade away.
Not a ghost. Not a dream.
A memory.
(originally posted 7-28-08. Reposted 11-12-2011
The internet is forever ...
Not Good-bye …
If I should die
before you wake,
grieve not for could
or would.
Rejoice, instead, for had
and did
and heard, and saw
and touched.
Be glad for was,
not sad for never.
Whatever was
cannot be gone.
I'm with you now...
forever.