I lift my gaze from the page.
Looking through the dragon plant,
and the miniature fig tree,
past the rain spattered window pane.
Out into the dusk at mid-day.
The sky is black, the wind chilling,
the rain relentless, daylight scarce.
And just as I think its bad
Mother Nature flashes at my eyes
and unleashes the roaring sound
of a building collapsing,
multiplied a thousand times.
The street lamps fight their hardest
but barely touch the insipid gloom.
I love Nature.
But sometimes, days like today,
make me question that relationship.
So I return my gaze to the page
and write.


© Pagan Paul (21/11/16)

I don't think in linear paths
I think in images, not words.
I think through what I see
                       what I hear
                       what I feel

For instance, that night,
I found my sisters body
I saw her lifeless body hanging there
I saw my mother fall to the ground, a strangled mix between a scream and a gasp escaping her lips
I saw the red eyes of my father
I had never seen them before and I've seen them too many times since
I saw the strongest people I've ever known fall to their knees in the rubble of my family
I saw my family fragment, break and stumble under the weight of our grief
But I also saw my family stand up, rise, fight and pull the ripping seams together with our knuckles turning white

I heard my father's panic
I heard my mother's cries
I heard my own disconnected voice as my body and brain worked separately
I heard the voice of the 911 operator in my ear
I heard the sirens
      the ones that now echo in my ears
I hear an unknown voice say "I'm sorry, we couldn't revive her. She's gone," as my mother crumpled into my father.


I felt my blood racing through my veins
I felt my heart pounding in my chest
I felt my muscles moving and tearing and ripping as I ran, fueled by adrenaline
I felt the loss
I felt the icy numbness blanketing my family

I saw a life end that night and dozens of others permanently altered

Her life ended that night and ours changed and came crashing to a halt but we got back up
I got back up

I only hope that wherever she is, she's finally happy

Happier than she was here

You have to realize that your convictions and desires to work toward being a better person and not regretting your past mistakes apply to others. Trying to move past problems you've created with others within your history but putting others down for trying to move past theirs doesn't make any sense.....what do you really believe in?

I was in no hurry, for he was
past this world's impatience, there
in that quiet room, prostrate, manicured
so we could "view" him

before I cleared my driveway,
I saw a white dove--was this an omen?
until this eve I was not sure such a creature
existed--still no verdict on omens

at the first stoplight, a Harley, straddled by
a horse three hundred pounds soaking dry,
caught my eye--shorts and pink ubiquitous
breast cancer awareness tee (really)

at the funeral home, there was not
a space to be found, so I parked at the
Baptist church across the street -- I doubt
the lot knew the deceased was Catholic

in the entrance to this place of grief
and peace, and artificial flowers, two men
in twin black suits were arguing -- I heard only
one sentence, "His wife doesn't need to know!"

then, of course, I decided not to go, but did
stop for a Big Mac and fries on the way home, wondering
if the bulky biker had been through the line before me,
and if the mythic white dove was yet on my lawn