the nun had told the boy,

"say a thousand hail Mary's
and God will grant you
anything you want."

the boy in the front row pew at church, alone
always alone. he didn't want

a ten speed bike or a sunny day,
the Mets to win the world series or

to be president of this sorry country, to be rich

or not to have to clean his room

with the heart of a lonely kid
he felt destiny within himself
so he went for the gamble and spread his cards
leave it to faith
take the road

and he walked into soft light
and disappearing shadows.

Our heros keep exiting the stage,
Leaving us their music, art, film, and literature.
Their athletic accomplishments,
Their political discretions,
And hidden battlescars,
Their scientific and medical wonders.
Our ancestors left us the wheel and fire,
The family unit and our extended compatriots.
A good lineage always starts in the cave,
And helps us make it through the night.

Something wicked, this Way comes
When sadness surrounds the Doldrums

Melancholy’s bit is Bitter, Sweet
Looking for mom’s face on the street

Praying as a child to find her and care
Streets of LA, sea of empty faces , cold stare

It’s strange, What we hold onto, cherish
Reminisce, of a loved one who perished

Unfinished business, Hardens the heart
Moments before, we were pulled apart

We find Silent comforts to cradle our mind
Where’d we come from what did we find?

Dealing with death’s passages of times
Needing help with our imaginary crimes

The first person I ever knew who died
She was 46 years young, my soul cried

My beloved mother Throat Cancer
Disenchanted asked God for the answer

Each second Every breath More Shallow
Then the one before, her face Hollow

Questioning The last time for this or that
Lapse memory, The Last time I fed her cat

Yet I never really paid attention
The uneasy emotions we never mention

Now, I pay attention to the smallest details
beauty in rain in hail that clean wet smell

The last thing  I’ll ever mention
Having your full undivided attention

Mom needed all her children near
Leaving earth the biggest unknown fear

Feckless children weren’t around
Couldn’t be bothered wouldn’t be found

What to expect on the other side
Her guardian angel her ethereal Guide

Three days before mom died (her and I)
We were sitting on corner curb outside

Her words were soft, gentle and kind
I don’t worry about you in my mind

You’re like a cat You’ll have many lives
You’ll land on your feet not on the street

Her voice grew intense serious and brave
Listen to me Don’t go to my grave

You need to realize I won’t be there
Find comfort with others Grieve elsewhere

She knew in the crevices of her head
Funerals are for the living not the dead

Pretentious, pompous circumstance
Don’t cry a pity party, Sing and Dance

A gentle smile graced her face
Her wisdom a tear stain trace

Find something Spectacularly brilliant
That will remind you of me resilient

A remembrance you’ll see
put it in your house, There I’ll Be

I found a clear quartz crystal cat with claws
Amethyst heart Dangled between its paws

Daily Family walks Nonchalantly By
A dust collector they see with a naked eye

I see life’s memories in vivid detail
Mother’s Grim Reaper rang her bell


Inspired songs;
1) fire and rain by James Taylor
2) He stopped loving her today,
sang by George Jones
Written by Braddock and Puttman
3) go rest on the Mountain by Vince Gill
4) tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton
5) Live like you were dying
by Tim McGraw
Songs of morning and say goodbye. These are sacred so you don’t need to be religious to have a song universally touch your heart and touch your soul. Each one of these songs has a backstory of death and dealing with that pain. If you listen to the backstory on each of those songs, you’ll hear this song differently. This is why, when I read poetry, I always want to hear the backstory I get a wealth of information, and a deeper understanding of the poem and poet.

Sorry for the lengthy footnote, but I guarantee it’s worth the read

My mother had terminal cancer she did not want the children to see her dwindle away. She left us five children with my father. I was so young I thought she died any time I would mention her I would get a kick in the shin or a elbow in my stomach, learn later, my older siblings in life are now the truth. My younger brother and I did not until I was 10 years old. She tried to see his children. Mother said no I asked my sister who is that person and a small boy she said mom. I prayed every day to God. When I’m a grown-up, let me find her and let her know I care and she made a good person . Grandma (her mother) wanted me to take up with a private investigators left off after seven years of searching for her. (grandma was dying )They had some leads I was 20 years old. I found my mother when I was 21. I had been to every Alley in Skid Row and places young women should not go alone. I had a friend at know downtown LA the roughnecks. The last place of all the places we had been for months with a thrift store women shelter For personal necessities. I showed the photo went through this story to my surprise. The lady clerk pointed to the back of the room.
I took my mother home. I thought she’d be living with me now not on the street but on the third day, she said, I have to go home or they will give my room away she actually was living in a Victorian hospice with Catholic nuns. The headmistress came and asked me if I knew what was going on. Of course I did not because mom didn’t tell me. She told my mom was dying . she only had three months  to live. I prayed just let her be alive. I didn’t pray for more. God gave her to me, and then he took her away. I was angry for a long time. And then I realized God gave me three month to love and be a peace complete unfinished business. It Took me a long time to find my way back to Jesus . so when you see a homeless person , that’s a mother or father, uncle a grandma or grandpa those are people. Some of my family could not make peace with things until they knew she was dying. It was sickening toward my mom didn’t care about going to rodeo drive. They wanted to put a huge angel statue over her grave $25,000 a time ago I said no give the money to the nuns.

Underbelly of seabirds
As
White blue grey sky
Scrolls above.

Feathers frolic on
Thermal waves
Unknown to eyes
On Southend pier.

Rusting legs step out to
Sea
Swell and cresting small
Over silted bed

Last night,
when I closed my eyes,
I saw the moon
so full and so bright.
I fell asleep smiling.

i smell your scent,
like mangoes
i tasted them,
unripe & sour.
But I like it.

one more solvent to dissolve
the polymers; my nerves
teasing paralysis so coyly
i thought i was insoluble

yet i find myself drinking,
or moreso drowning in,
this curious concoction:
so volatile but sweet

to breathe is unnecessary,
this form is but an interim,
for my place in rock and earth
was measured in years

this has reduced me to seconds:
a hot flash reaction
i'd rather die in love and alcohol
than float on waves of apathy

Brittle bones,
knackered backs
look where have we been,
steaming
bickering
all within,
faltering legs slipping through the streets,

this man;
would you still greet?

Ashen lungs, falling through
bruised hands;
brimming of stench
been home late,
lately—

this man;
would you still put arms around?

old shirt pieces,
spectacles of destiny
uttering broken-frames;
for a new sweater
weaved into his soul-born.

this man,
would you call a miser still?

Look at those fingers,
go across the keyboard—
Look at the tubelight
light those eyes up
all night.

this man
would you still smile for?

For once,
let me know—
this man,
and his tears;
would you bear upon your lap?