It was supposed to be the start of the day.
When he had a heart, as fate would have it.
Standing next to his hero; eyes open and fixed,
distinctive of someone who’s dying.
He checked for a pulse
and found none.
A moment later they arrived,
shocked his heart back into action
and he was taken
to determine what happened and why.

Known for leading charges in to debauchery.
Fearsomely handsome burning blue eyes that long outlived his passing.
“Didn’t leave life unlived, did he?”

Reformed, unrepentant; grown wraithlike, diminished.
“If you give up, don’t moan about it; go back.”
The scholar who led a rebellion against performance.

The Lion in Winter.
The Ruling Class.
My Favorite Year.

Born August- the son of Constance, he grew up.
He gave up drinking- he did not give up smoking.
Cigarettes in an ebony holder, green socks, overcoats and trailing scarfs.

Good parts few and far between.
Waiting…you could wait forever.
Together with fine people, good companions with whom I've shared my belief.

My belief,
that one should decide for oneself,
when it is time to end ones stay.
I bid a dry eyed grateful farewell.

Audiences, critics, curiosity seekers
“My Favorite Year”
unlikely to win awards,
he clutched his statuette.

Homes today;
many appear replaced, similar and programmed.
Charitable giving;
rushed to keep up with cuts and shifts in government.
Nonprofits;
work for other narrow organizations.
Groups are asking.
They are looking
for a broader change.
Systems;
aimed to convince employees
not to ask about history.
And history…
that’s completely irrelevant
unless subpoenaed to witness.

I don’t want to be in love again.
I don’t want to rekindle what I lost.
I don’t want to feel that vulnerable again- ever.

I am quite comfortable in the fort I've made;
strong brick walls and a strong brick roof
and very few windows with very thick glass.

When it rains I am dry.
When it is cold I am warm inside and
when it is hot, I have a sweet cool shade.

Only ever do I miss the wind,
the way it’d comb my hair,
the way it’d help me breathe.

The way it’d hold me until I fell asleep.
How it would carry flowers and lay them at my feet.
It’s sinful cunning and charming smile.

The wind was my friend, until it finally blew me away.
Do I miss anything? Yes.
Most days I think I miss the wind, but only the wind.

Whoever gave power and speed to such unfeeling objects should be cursed;
to live in terror, to be stripped of anything that might hide them from those in pursuit.
Leave now and seek refuge in the dark places of this world.
Stay until you are one with the blacks and grays.
Stay until the bright sight of sun causes you pain and your reflection, unfamiliar.  
You have misused our trust. Mistaking patience and silence, for stupidity, and ignorance.
You can take no more; I have nothing left to give.
You will take no more, we will not let you.
Enough, your gifts are useless. You, begging, it will go unheard.
Beseeching the deaf with speech brings only annoyance.
It is done.
We give you our pity, our silence, and exude no energy.
You are not now, and time revealed, ever were, more than a child.

I watch you,
in my open hand,
touched are your eyes.
First one,
then the other.
Like someone,
feeling her way,
with no way of knowing;
like me.

Perhaps for you there is no flight,
startled, you walk away.
Sometimes, I cannot bear the world,
but we are different,
you a humble soul.
Forgive me,
I, monster that I am,
bow down before you,
finally,
speechless.

We must persist that we are objects of imperfection,
sculpted by a Creator's hands,
and in the eyes of our maker,
we are never done.

Contributing on to the end,
a memory of our being,
to be fixed in the minds of our counterparts.

We will never know the truth behind their love.

To divulge such a secret would in time turn it false.

It is not that we are not good,
not kind,
not sincere,
nor well-meaning.

But without the secret,
there would be no propelling of oneself.

And if the Creator blessed all of us, with a conscience of steel;
we would always be better tomorrow than we are today.

Resolve defined: firm determination to do something.

To know resolve is to say;
I will always be better tomorrow regardless of what I am today.