some folks express how much I look like my father
around the eyes
occasional sternness
rarely though were our personalities
or character traits  
placed in the same category
until the puppies came –
ole Jimmy is 11 years old now
he and his brother were gifted by breeders
papered Labradors
10 week little ***** of fluff
had I known I was to slip into insanity
I would have never accepted the bounty
family of five
plus two chew monsters
leaving no part of home or possession sacred….
let the beatings commence –
I had watched my father discipline dogs
the same way he disciplined me
with a belt or stick…
though the dog could take far more raining
and damaging blows
than my adolescent body
between whiskey and unresolved anger issues
we were raised by hand –
when Jimmy’s brother got out of the enclosure
that hot summer day on Thomas Creek
the beatings had slowed
as they were outside pups now
barely three years old
still locked in youth…
the occasional slap would suffice as reminder
one day Roy took out down the paved road
trotting off into the sunset
I called after and started walking down the road…
dogs pick up on energy
and mine was foul turning unreasonable
he stayed 15 to 25 feet ahead of me
if I stopped, he stopped
if I ran, he ran…
so we trekked
and trekked,
and trekked
we reached the Bee Tree
which sat just at 2 miles from the house
when he gave up the chase
I got ahold of that ******* dog
and set to throwing punches….
I am no small man,
running six ,five, two-seventy
off in the distance I heard a car coming up the bend
I stopped hitting that dog and began telling him
how much more beatings would come after the car passed
I sat mumbling profanities at my dear pet for 1 whole minute
while the Subaru came into view
and then disappeared off into the hills –
I grabbed that dog after I was tired of beating him
and ****** that pup by his collar onto his tip toes
and fast marched two miles back home
cursing him for gaging and choking all the way…
when we got back to the farm I cut him loose in the fence
went in to wash up and get some water
about half hour later I went to check on him…
that ole pup walked up wagging his tail
sheepishly
looked up with two blood red eyes
as my dragging him home
had bust the vessels in both his eyeballs…
I collapsed and burst into tears…
lil ole Roy dog laid right at my feet
started to licking my face
trying to console me…
the farmer down the road shot my dog 2 months later
for playing goat herder
I have his brother still and a couple other pups
no doubt in my mind I will have dogs until I die
I also know Roy was the last dog I’ll ever hit….
I prefer to just look like my dad –

Searching through my mind
for anything I fear to say.
I have spent thirty-five years
of my life tracking down
my fears,
cornering the slippery ones
and facing the fearsome feral ones.
The few secrets I keep
are no longer for my sake,
but are kept to spare others.
Even those,
I have aired to a few,
close and close-mouthed friends
who hold my trust
as sacred as I hold theirs.
To keep what
hard-earned sanity I have,
I need to keep facing myself,
and stare the evil within me
square in the eyes.

The thing I fear most today
is my arrogance...
my arrogance that there is nothing left to fear.

a barely noticeable breeze
passed by the delicate pear blossom
and along its journey
caught my nose
the light fresh fragrance
became the universe
as I closed my eyes
and deeply inhaled  --
behind sunlit lids
my imagination created soft pink petals
dancing and twirling
barely attached to the larger twig
being folded and manipulated
by strong bumble bee legs
as pear blossom pollen
is gathered for a entitled
and specific queen –
further along the breezy voyage
the light scent transports me to a feast
guests grotesquely gorging
on the bounty
of a delicate pear blossom
allowed to pass away
and give life to fruit
harboring seeds
genetically coded
to create
delicate pear blossoms
caught in barely noticeable breezes
their wafting perfume
enticing one to
travel most beautifully –

Fields full of spring;
mea maxima tulpa.
April in Holland.