Poetry Page Two

October

This feeling of you is like October in the mountains.

At once warm but somehow cold also.

Indian Summer, time to prepare for the upcoming changes.

October is nostalgic. We sit and dream

of what we did not do this year, and

Hope we will get another chance with next year’s birth.

Or we reflect on what we did, and what it all meant.

This year is dying, and once again,

A part of me goes with it.

A time of longing and bittersweet, I crave this time of year

And this feeling, dreading them both.

The leaves change to beautiful, different colors;

Caused by chlorophyll's retreat from the cold.

My heart has the same defense.

Some say we are in the autumn of life,

Which could also mean it’s almost winter.

Lately, when I touch your memory, I think of Fall,

And wonder where you’ve fallen to.

9/18/94

Waiting

I don’t understand what the holdup is, where you’re hiding.

You came to me first; touched me, tempted me, teased me.

I responded; I’ve waited this

Whole life for you to come.

That’s your divine feminine, they said,

Mirrored in that other person.

Make it safe enough, woo her, flirt with her,

And she will come to you.

To touch your feeling, and remember your depth,

I have to go to that longing, wanting place, and just stay there.

Good, they said, for the word is the masculine and

The yearning is the feminine.

I write you poetry, and long for you,

And long some more.

You still haven’t come, and I don’t know where to go.

I’m homesick, and uncertain which of us is trying to get home.

9/26/94

On September 28, 1994, my daughter was born, prompting this next one…

The Traditional Cigar

Becker brought a bottle of port and cigars to celebrate the birth.

Good cigars; three dollar Brazilians.

Somewhere along the way cigars became traditional, although most of my

Friends don’t smoke so my last one was blue bubble gum.

The night lured us outside, and the beach called us by our new names.

Father, Godfather and Grandfather, each in our new role

For the very first time, walking toward the water with

Our celebratory cigars.

We toasted the night and the water and each other, and

Mostly my new baby girl who inspired it all.

We rolled the smoke around in our mouths, savored it and

Watched it disappear, casually flicking ashes as we talked of new life.

The next afternoon, Becker and I sat outside in rocking chairs,

Drinking cheap beer and smoking expensive cigars.

We talked of the world, old and new, and I thought if this is what

Old age will be like, I won’t mind at all.

I recalled other cigars from other times:

Rum Crooks we thought might get us buzzed,

Cheap, foul smelling types that have their own long tradition in poker games,

And those occasional ones shared around various campfires.

I probably don’t appreciate good cigars as I should, but I’ve

Come to realize cigars are one of those things men do together.

Like this night, we met and shared space for a short while, enjoying our

Masculinity, and the fact a baby girl could bring us all together.

10/7/94

The Chasm

It's like you're everywhere within me,

But nowhere at all.

There's this incredible void; I feel you walking high along the edge

While I'm waiting for you at the bottom.

I've heard the most dangerous thing in the world

Is to try to leap a chasm is two jumps.

But you're not of this world;

You're from that other side where the Divine lives.

I dwell at the bottom of the void,

A black hole where nothing escapes;

Not sound nor light, nothing real nor imaginary,

And certainly no emotion.

I look upward, a small speck

Peeking into your vastness.

Wondering if I'm too small to see or

If you're too large to touch.

10/15/94

Dancing with the Divine

As a young man, or perhaps more accurately an older boy,

I stood slow-dancing in the dark,

And dreamed of kissing her for the first time.

Feeling ultimately alive while scared to death,

I often turned my head from side to side,

Hoping our lips might accidentally meet in passing.

For the infinite time that short song played,

Time stopped as I desperately searched for the courage

To risk, to feel, to love, and be loved.

Certain she also wanted to kiss, I was too

Frightened of rejection and terrified of my growing hardness;

I could not stop it, nor did I really want to.

Now, so many years later, I realize we weren’t alone.

You were there. You were that feeling, and you were that moment,

And I’m still clumsily trying to kiss you.

10/17/94

For more information, contact Bret.

Last Updated December 20, 2008