THE RAIN IS SO DARK

The time of dad's passing
I've been restrained
All the day long
I've looked at the rain.

There isn't a smouldering
Hint of a spark
I can't see for nothin'
The rain is so dark.

The stormclouds are following
One on another
They tred on the heels
They're so close together.

The date of a death
Is when pain was born
There seem to be many
One endless storm.

The first major hurricane
2020 has seen
Was the health & work crisis
Of COVID-19

Then the stress on good friendships
Because of the news
People fussing & fighting
For differing views.

THEN Minneapolis
Had a white killer cop
And others stood by
As a black man's heart stopped!

Now, these are DEATHS!
We HAVE to RECEIVE!
Deaths of our innocence
We no longer believe
In man's basic goodness
No way it's retrieved
We must accept now
And we have to GRIEVE.

My father survived WWII
Lived 93 years in this mortal stew.
But now he's left... years ago? TWO.

When I was a child
Oh, SO long ago
I used to LOVE thunderstorms...

... what did I know?

R.I.P. Clinton Eugene Jarvis

Cathy Jarvis
(C) 5/30/2020

She has been such a generous familiar,
having given much to many.

Has been entering and leaving
ever since it all began,
ever present
before we called it
summer,
spring, fall,
or winter.

The face of many forms
wearing that of mother,
brother, father, friends
or past lover
who will not
come again.

She has been gentle
with a serene beauty,
and brutally
violent,
with such depravity,
and callous cruelty.

She has been
in memories
and anxious fantasies
of things that
may never be.

I hope that
perhaps she
will take me
while I am sleeping.

Forgive me
for my level of
gross insensitivity.

Please pardon
my passing stares,
forgo those old
fierce glares.

I did not mean to
act up and offend you.
Its just that
I like to look at
beautiful things.

I know you think
I am some sort of creep,
but I observe many
lovely things
from flowing waters
foaming up
as they chase the sands,
pulling beach back in
this gorgeous ocean,

or the feline creature
who gracefully moves
at her own leisure,
with her slick black fur streaks
as she sneaks and seeks
something squirmy to eat,
such a predatory work of art,

or the pink flower unfolded,
long before her blooms
are consumed
by time’s terrible decay.

Please allow me this
as a lonely artist,
I am merely appreciating
the art that is
your loveliness.

We will return our grief
give back nutrients
to the trees
and their leaves.

We will settle down
on soft brown ground,
a bed like mound
to rest at ease.

This will be our peace.

I loved my unfettered solitude.

Until, time took my disposition
and made it the human mission
to remain secluded from everyone.

I loved moving into people’s view
like little leaky drips,
just giving them sugary drops
so that when it stops
I leave them wanting more.

But that was before
closing the door
was a mandate,
and my natural state
became something I hate
cause it causes tear stains
of familiar pains
that I thought
had longs since got lost
in a past I forgot.

Gemini burns bright tonight,
sees a powerful light
piercing our gentle lives.

Twins skies scorched
by ice fire,
torched
by a devastating desire
to not expire.

Turquois to orange blazes
that guide us through
these strange mazes;

with sad glances
one twin fades
as the other one faces
grief,
and a similar onset
of eternal sleep.

Gemini falls quiet,
and her children blush
with the final flush,
then sees sweet shades
slip slowly away
from our face
and like ashes
we all fall down.

I weep for humanity
and what we could
have been.

Though we are soft bodies
drifting in the cosmos,

we could have set sail
pursuing dreams.

Now,
deep thought are lost
fading fast
into the past.

I discard my sleep
to wake in grief
with tears on my cheek
knowing sweet
sci-fi hopes
will never come again.

She’s got a heart
as warm as winter
permafrost,
or a cold artic cave
were adventurers get lost.

She’s got a body
like a Venus fly trap
and when you get caught
you’ll never come back;

But she has a mind
like Eden’s garden
beautiful with
an outer shell
that has hardened,
a place where
dreams expand
and thoughts demand
grand exploration,

but no one enters
this paradise
that her last lovers
departed.

Leaving all this grieving green
to remain forever unseen.

At times
I have made light
of their crimes,

turned grievous wounds
into weak bee stings
so you could see these things
in softer shades than me.

I have turned night into day
and watched those I love
dance and play
embraced by beautiful rays
while I stay awake
in the darker hours.

I have used poetry and levity
to elevate strangers above me
despite our shared suffering.

I have scoffed at my pain,
lay bleeding to death
while I stifled tears and dressed
pin ****** and paper cuts.

I have felt your sorrow,
and put your comfort
above my well-being,
but now I am seeing
that it might not have been
the right thing to do,

because you
have gotten far too fat and lazy
laying in the excrement
of your own ignorance.

Though, I have doubted much,
I do not doubt this,
and I am tired of trying to educate
those who no longer wish
or have never even desired
to be better than
the racist redneck men
who inspired them
to give in to fear and hate.