A Night at the Opera

It's Sunday night, and my girlfriend and I step out to hear a friends's band play at the Deluxe, a smallish club in the Haight section of San Francisco.  

Music and sweat intermingle as the boys drive it home, sending frenzied beats of grinding rhythm careening into the eve.  

To my left, hipster zombies feign indifference, too stoned or too cool to care (though I notice their eyes are glued to the screen...), a handful of stragglers park it on the right, seemingly oblivious to the picture, and to my left, a happy couple dances, blissfully unaware that just a few steps away, a small swarm of wannabe's gather each trying to outdo the other with varying degrees of showiness.  

Players include a coquette with a striped power suit and fake laugh, a girl with a shrill voice barking orders for drinks, a tall bleached blond with heavy makeup, and a Gertrude Stein artist type who seems to be the den mother. The only apparently sincere one of the bunch is the drunk guy that stands in the middle and this, because he is sincerely drunk.  

I observe the scene from my cozy spot behind the half wall, a silent witness to the nasty bits of this adolescent soap opera.  


When it's time to go, my friend and I say our goodbyes and walk into the cool night air.  On the way to the car, I chuckle to myself, recalling the motley cast of characters, and breath a sigh of relief that I wasn't one of them (at least I hope).  It hurt enough going through puberty once, I wouldn't want to do it again. Hopefully, they'll get the memo, or grow up.  Whichever comes first.

Purr

She sits on the couch right next to me,
soft, and adoring, yet distant and free.

My dear old kitty, my sweet precious cat,
peculiar, and foreign, and almost fat.

She's the big little girl who likes to repose,
 a 6 year old cali with a pink dewy nose.

Her paws are all white but for tan on one toe,
her reflex is cautious, surprisingly slow.

Her tummy is baggy, I'm sure she's had kittens,
she's never once scratched me nor have I been bitten.

I rub her chest as she sleeps in a ball,
she never resists just hangs like a doll.

My favorite part is when I wake up,
and she's right beside me like the most loyal pup.

She'll wet my finger with small ginger licks,
if I'm lucky and quiet and move not a bit.

These golden moments slip into my heart,
feeding me joy when we are apart.

She doesn't play, never jumps on my lap,
nor rubs up against me, content just to nap.

But she'll let me pet her under the chin,
her obvious pleasure making me grin.

She always cries when I pick her up,
but humors me well 'til my minute is up.

We have a good time Loretta and I,
she trusts me, I love her, it's simple and fly.

"They'll steal your heart" I've heard said of beasts,
and now I know mine would rip at the least.

And so as I bury my hands in her fur,
her eyes lock on mine and she lets out...a purr.

Chains

Still one night in bed I lay,
the chains of death entangled me.

I couldn't move could barely breath,
 while fire licked inside of me.  

I saw flames leap and felt the ropes,
thick and heavy snuff out my hope.  

Something indeed pulled me down low,
showing me just where I'd go.  

I knew hell came for me that night,
but God pulled me out of that deranged plight.

T'was but a dream because I woke,
though it's memory saturated me like smoke.

At that time I didn't know,
that God himself could save from woe. 

I festered deep inside myself,
while the best of me lay on a shelf.

When God came in and took me back,
I was set free from those attacks.

Since then I've slept not perfectly,
but peace now rests it's hand on me. 

It's wonderful for me right now,
to see to feel serenities vow.

If you linger in the pit,
all you get to eat is, well...

So give your trust up to The One,
who's got your back who gave His Son.

And you will find a love divine,
tranquilities dwelling, a rest sublime.

  

Meander

Crusty, dusty old words come at me like meteors hurling in the space of my mind.  I don't see anything new on the horizon, just some tired, sleepy friends whom I've visited a million times and now come to pay me homage out of some warped concept of duty.

Well fuck you, sirs!  I don't want your duty.  Give me your lives, tense and afraid, dirty and rotting, and I will make something great of them, something to cherish for years to come...  

My stomach roils in it's pit right now, I tell ya, from what feels like years of inactivity and mediocrity.  I languish, perishing in the thought that I have no gumption, no go anymore.  Rather, it feels like my words have training wheels making me/them sound safe, boring, unappealing.  

What will it take to wake out of my torpor, my somnolent indulgence and rise to meet the challenges of a new goal?  For that is what this heady meandering is:  a call to myself to conquer the taboos, and the shortcomings of my existence.  I want to learn to swim and be able to save my life, I want to be there for someone, really be there for them, and pay it forward,  I want to write the story of my life, simultaneously exorcising the remaining debris of the destruction that tore me apart, and bringing joy and beauty to this love-starved world... 

These dreams, hopes and goals are like seeds germinating beneath the leathery, crusty soil of my mind, I see that now.  They invigorate me and give me the vision and hope that life is bigger than what I thought, and that it is waiting to transport me to some magical land further along the path that I was on before should I decide to hop aboard.

I think I will.

  

Bus Stop

There I was with my heart in my hands,
nowhere to go, no pressing demands.

Alone at the bus stop I sat late at night,
discarded and empty, sad was my plight.

The cars they drove by uncaring and swift,
careening towards midnight, while I sat adrift.

My self esteem lay under the ground,
buried, forgotten, and made not a sound.

I was down and out forgotten and blue,
with nary a friend, my soul dead it's true.

But then a man came walking by,
he smiled politely and said ''hi".

He took the seat right next to mine,
and we sat and talked for a good length of time.

I told him my troubles and woes top to bottom,
and marveled relieved when I all but forgot them.

When he got up to leave, I followed him--
I had nothing else, zero to give.

I stayed with this man, generous in heart
and soon came to know we'd never part.

It's been many years since that fateful night,
so much has changed, so much is right.

Eternity now waits for this precious soul,
and all because He made me whole.