close reach


there is no better way to say goodbye
the ebb tide comes, sails billow, the world moves
and we wonder about the wind and water
rising and falling of the seas

every journey has an end and every end begins
a new day, a dawning of the sun, consciousness
returns and greets us again and again
nothing changes, only all of what we see and feel

time keeps everything from happening at once
love keeps everything happening forever
the waves we sail before, the doldrums, the rain
are places, as real as tomorrow, in our minds

there’s no better way to say goodbye
we did our best, told our heart’s stories
stole one last kiss before turning toward new day
and wrote another page in the story of our soul

who could ask for more from themselves or another
laugh and love, hurt and cry, these are memories
stories we will tell as the voyage goes on
in morning we’ll awake, and learn to love again the day


broken hearted


what becomes of the broken hearted
will they ever find the light again (and where)
does it feel to love again (how can it)
everything it was was washed away with rain
clouds rolling into summer storms
(lightning and thunder)

how the heart is hurting, beats inside (a hollow moon)
skies are filled with darkness (lies) as shades are drawn
the morning passes (there are no more songbirds)
summer grasses dried into hay (waiting to be cut)

long hot nights return to bedsheets (unmade)
an empty place to lay beside (no longer seems to fit)
and dreams never come as thoughts spin into webs
dust settles in the mind (as another moon rises)

yes, what becomes of the broken hearted?
left with only a dare (to love again)
to feel all there ever was (and shall be)
what quiet smile and tender touch (will heal)
the lessons lost across these stars (becoming)




Dear Readers,

I am creating a new category called Quatrains – On occasion I find that I cannot, through prose or poetry, express the meaning of what I am trying to share with you, and with the world. Words can be ill suited for the truth, and the truth is often blurred by the wild imaginings of the minds of men and woman.

It was in the movie “The Point” by Harry Nilsson that I first heard the words “You see what you want to see, and your hear what you want to hear” – No truer words were ever spoken, even if they are denied three times before the cock crows twice …

I find that I write in quatrains anyway, and thought I would try my hand at expressing thought in quatrains without the need for rhyme. So when I feel overwhelmed; by the news, by the world, by the driver who tail gated me all the way home, by the hundreds, even thousands of little things in living every day, that are so counter to the real truth, then in some quatrain the truth will be told.

Blessings for your days, and may the truth make you whole,


The Dark Night


On bended knee is where we find
Through our lives a wind will blow
Storms will rise with thunder claps
and moon swept tides will flow

Waters churn into the night
Darkness settles on the land
Lovers lost in narratives
Can minds competing understand

How the heart still longs to love
Clings to promises of faith
Lonely from the lies in leather
Tears leave stains upon the lace

The dark night of the soul will come
and go again by days between
The lessons learned in living still
fill galleries of all we’ve seen


TGD #17

“Just who the hell was Joseph anyway” the thought crept back into his head, as the wind and the roar of the pipes blended into a vibration that seemed to open up his heart.
It still hurt, he just couldn’t understand her reverence for this stranger. This person who just walked into her life, and just as quickly disappeared. She talked about him like he was some sort of saint. She said it was her Walkabout, that she left Downtown as one person and arrived hours later at her home a different person, and he had shown her the way.

“He took me from the gates of hell” she told him, and showed me the way to life.
“What kind of life”, he thought, “She was never the same after that day”
When she talked about life after that there was a look in her eyes that was far away, no, deeper.

She had told him that after they stopped for water at the bodega, and Joseph was so reassuring about the trains running, that he accompanied her a few more blocks until they found a park where there were people resting, and toward the west side there was a bench with a statue in front of it.

“Not just any statue” she said “It was a statue of the Virgin Mary”
She described it as the kind you see everywhere with the shawl on her head, and the snake at her feet.
Joseph told her he had to go back, since she was safe now. He told her; “Her journey had just begun”, touched her on the cheek, turned and headed back downtown. She said she was saddened at his leaving, it was good to have a friend that day, so she sat on the bench in front of the statue, and prayed.
“Harder than she ever prayed in her life” Is what she said.
“Weeping and praying”, not for herself and the mess she was in, but for all of the people involved in that day.
Everyone, “the evil and the good”, is the way she put it.
Brandon never understood what she told him next, and now, why it was now that he was reliving it? He was puzzled by the thoughts, but they ran through his brain, like the white lines passing beneath him as the speedometer touched eighty five.

“My eyes were cloudy“ she said. “From the tears, and from the dust, but I know what I saw, and I know what I heard”
“She lifted her bowed head, looked at me, and in a voice softer than my ears have ever felt she said “Because you have believed, you have been saved”
Then Rae told him; “Her halo of light reached out and wrapped around me”
“Unstuck in time”, is the way she described what it felt like “and then a firetruck screamed by, and everything was as it was before.”
“Except for me” she said “from that moment on my world, my life was never the same”

Straight ahead in the desert sky in a green streak that crossed the sky a shooting star burned out, and Brandon’s focus came back to the bike, the road, and the miles left to go. He was hours behind his schedule. Not that he had to be in Oakland on a specific day, but he was one who liked to be on schedule, and the delay in the desert was time he could never make up.

TGD #16

The sun had set, and the hot desert air was cooling quickly. Under the cloudless sky, the stars came out one by one, and the darkness became pitch black. The stardust of the Milky Way shown faintly overhead. The old man moaned, and Brandon told him to be still, and just sip the water he had given him;
“You’re dehydrated, old man, and lucky to be alive. We’ll be in town in less than an hour” He had checked the map and there was a hospital about fifty miles up the road. The old pickup road well, and they were making good time, so he knew what he had told his new found friend was true.
Within the hour, the two of them were at the Emergency Room entrance, and fortunately it was a quiet night. Brandon got an ER nurse out to the truck with a gurney. He explained what had happened earlier out in the desert, and as he did, he told the nurse about the woman who flagged him down, the nurse asked where she was, and Brandon stepped back, with a wonder in his eyes.
“Yeah” he said, “Where is she?”
“She was there, and then she was gone”
“I got so busy getting this guy out of there, I just forgot about her”
“Well we can ask him when he’s feeling up to it” she said.
And with that off she went with orderlies pushing the gurney, and her asking the old man his name, and all the standard questions that a trained ER nurse will run through to triage a patient, in order to assess their state of mind. Regardless of the circumstances that brought them together, Brandon was not a relative, so he was asked to wait in the ER Waiting Room. He would also need to answer a few questions when the local police got there. Considering the man’s condition and how he had been found, the hospital had to file a report.
Brandon spied a coffee machine, and that was all it took for the waiting to be agreeable. He dropped a couple of coins into the machine, selected black, no sweetener, and the thing began to whir and gurgle, not unlike the pumps and expansion tanks he used for the big electromagnets back at the University.
Lost in thought, he could hear the thumping of the equipment again, feel the thrill of watching the temperature rise in the magnetic bottle, to the point where fusion could be maintained, and the disappointment of the collapse of the field magnets and the ruined experiment, time and time again. That disappointment, made even stronger, when the funding ran out, and the whole project got shelved. He was sure he had the answer, but needed time and more money to get the magnets right. But time ran out. Einstein was right he thought – Time was relative, everything was. He sat down with his cup, and looked at the poker hand on the cup – it was a straight.
“How about that” he thought.
By the time had had finished his coffee, a local cop strolled into the ER and the nurse at the desk pointed over to Brandon.
As he approached he said in a smokey voice “I’m Patrolman Bill Miller, you the guy that found old Jake”
“He’s lucky to be alive, ain’t the first time he’s been caught out there”
“Jake?” Brandon asked
“Yeah, his names Jake Watson, he’s been living out there alone in the desert ever since his wife died five years ago.”
“He’s always out there in the heat looking for Meteorites. He’s been making his living selling those rocks for long as I been on the force.”
“He’s a geologist?” Brandon said
“Yeah, got some kinda degree from back east, but we always called him the Rock Hound”

The paperwork was as simple patrolman Bill Miller was; license, registration, where you from, where you going. Brandon gave the contact info at the lab where he was heading.The cop asked him to sign the report and that was it. He thanked him for saving him the trip out to the desert with the Medical Examiner, told him to have a safe trip, got up and disappeared through the sliding doors.
As Brandon’s gaze turned back to the waiting room the nurse came through the wide double doors in the back, and told Brandon that Jake was conscious, talking and wanted to meet the man who saved his life, and would he please follow her back to the bed where he was.
The look in Jake’s eyes was entirely different now, there was life there, his eyes dark green like weathered bronze, his face as rutted as the high desert.
Jake slowly stretched out his hand to Brandon and said;
“Thank you for bringing me in, I thought I was a goner this time”
“Not a problem” Brandon said “But you should thank the woman who flagged me down”
“She’s the one who saved you, I would have flown right by and never seen a thing if it weren’t for her”
“That’s my Linda” He said “Always looking out for me, always trying to talk me into staying home”
“But I just tell her, there’s pieces of the planets and stars out in the desert, and I’m going” “So she just nods, brings her sun hat, and off we go”
None of this was adding up. Brandon had heard from Bill that Jake’s wife was dead, and here was this man telling him that Linda was the one who was with him, only he never saw the woman who flagged him down after he turned the bike and saw her disappear down that old dirt road.
Brandon was convinced Jake was still delirious from the sun, and wanting to get rolling again, he just went with it.
“Jake” he said “You’re in good hands here, and I have work waiting for me in Oakland, so I’m going to get on my way, you rest up”
“Well you look me up anytime you’re out this way”
“One question though” Brandon asked
“Were did you go to school” Bill Miller, the local cop who took the report, told me you had a degree in geology?”
“Princeton” Jake said “Princeton Tigers”
“Well I’ll be damned” Brandon remarked, shook Jake’s hard and calloused hand once more, turned headed down the corridor and out into the night.
Once the bike was back on the pavement Brandon donned his helmet, and went through the starting ritual; Turning on the gas tank valve, pushing the kick starter through once to set up a compression stroke, choke on, key on, and with one more sure kick, the bike came back to life. Clutch in, a kick down into first, and as he rolled out of the parking lot, working the bike up through the gears, the unreality of all that had just happened followed him down the road like an apparition.

Part 17