I felt the hollow
before I picked up the phone
because I know
that you’re not coming home.
Imagine the sorry you owe me.
You smile as you deliver the story.
Reminds me you were never weary
of your own mortality.
Shower me in that heavy blanket
the one with you cuddled in it.
Your ghost can whisper you love me
and that you never want to sleep without me.
And I can fall asleep
resting in that peace.
Those of you who know me are well aware I have this thing about movies. Specifically bad ones.
Here’s the picture:
I’m old. I’m dying. On my deathbed kind of dying.
As my life flashes before me, there’s this timer in the upper right hand corner. It has logged all the hours of my life I wasted watching bad movies.
End picture.
So, when I see a bad movie, I don’t have a rational reaction. I get angry. Really angry. These are hours of my life I cannot get back. Avatar was one of those movies. And the more I think about it, the more angry I get.
I have a room of my own.
I am writing in it.
I spent yesterday organizing, cleaning, moving things around.
Where should my Ohio license plate go?
Where does my Lebron James bobble-head look its best?
Do I sit where I can see out the window to the mountains surrounding our home or do I sit facing a wall so I don’t get distracted?
I have options in my room.
And today is the first day I wrote when writing is the only job I have.
Today I am a writer.
http://www.twirlit.com/2010/01/05/should-i-stay-or-should-i-go-now-dont-do-it-elin-nordegen/
http://www.twirlit.com/2009/12/18/working-together-how-to-make-sure-it-works-out/
http://www.twirlit.com/2009/12/18/his-cheating-heart-can-tiger-syndrome-be-cured/
http://www.twirlit.com/2009/12/18/keeping-love-alive-when-life-keeps-happening/
Our hotel in Desert Hot Springs
It was a lot of work, building this castle.
The man I love in his hometown of Crown King.
This place has a piece of my heart...
Resting on a rock in Crown King.
Another majestic tree
I'd like to cut one down for Christmas
The new U2
Dirt on the path winds around
the mountains over-looking 2000 miles from my town.
The distance, the prints along the path,
each winding their own way to the peak
where I love to remember
and hope to forget
the time we laughed
the time we met.
On the way down hill
the ground moves fast. The rocks I feel,
they roll down, changing shape,
shaping my roll to shift with them.
Crossing chasms deep inside
Sifting through to find where you hide.
In the place I love to remember
and hope to forget
the time we didn’t take care
and left unkept.
The time we walked alone
in accomplishment.
What was conquered?
What was won?
A lesson learned to move along.
