The First Night Of The Year

I don't know what the problem is with the time stamp on this blog, I think it must be California time or something. Truth is, this was written a few minutes after midnight on New Year's Eve, my first post of 2011.

This is the first time I've tried typing with Emily sitting in my lap, it's not easy but it's fun! We've been drinking some really good Australian wine and we're pretty well buzzed, and Em is very giggly.

We've been watching the live feed from Times Square on tv all evening, it's been a hard year for so many, but so many are still hopeful. So many people out there partying, but so many more wishing and praying....

Em and I lit some candles on the altar a little while before midnight, so they could carry the light on into the new year. They're glowing now, in glass cups and silver lanterns, before a buddha surrounded by multicolored Christmas lights. The new year is barely half an hour old, and it already feels blessed.

And here's what we both want to say, to all the people we love and care about, to all the people whose happiness means so much to us. That means you, Jane. And you Randa. And you Allie. And you Stacey. And you Joy. And you Skunk.

Trust hope.

Trust magic.

And above all else,

Trust love!

It will never, ever let you down!

Christmas Eve Eve

Your purple satin reflecting the candle light, you twirled a pirouette and sat down in my lap. Your arm around my shoulder, mine around your waist, your brown eyes twinkling in the Christmas lights....

And your soft black lips taste so sweet, and my hand on that smooth white place above the top of your stocking, your fingers slinking through my hair while we both whisper our secret prayers....

And now I'm watching you breathing easy, slow and deep while you watch the dreams unfolding on the inside of your eyelids, I think I'll just watch a little longer, before I call a car to take you home.

Tuesday Night

I'm watching my fingers melting

in your frozen waterfalls,

And I'm wondering,

May I jump in yet?

I Still Remember You

This night's made of cloud's blood and splinters of diamonds, feathers from angel wings, pieces of stone. And the still beating heart of a 1961 Mercury, resurrected from our teenage dreams....I often think about that when the Winter Solstice creeps up the hill. Do you remember the steel hard stars shining down on us on the bleachers, hands going where they'd never gone before? More than forty years gone by, and I can still see your eyes....

The Ghost Of December

The days are still shrinking,

it's two weeks til Christmas,

the air smells of snow,

branches crack in the cold.

And your brown eyes reflect

the light of the candles,

our hearts full of wishes,

our souls full of love.

Winter Night Haiku

Wind blowing, roaring

Like the ghost of a lion

Entering heaven.

December Night

This night is as cold as our gin is cold and your boots hit the floor in an icy cascade. You hold me so close and your arms squeeze me tight and I kiss the snowdrops in your frozen hair.

Your long satin skirt is as black as the new moon, my hand on your calf, on your torn fishnets. And I thank God for the gift that She's given me, for your black lips on mine, for your brown eyes so warm.

The First Night Of December

I'm already halfway gone from this world, I'm already walking somewhere else. I'm just waiting for my feet to catch up with my soul, then I'll kiss your hand and wish your spirit well.

I'm already halfway gone from this world, I'm already squeezing the hand of a ghost. And she loves me more than anybody here, and I'll kiss your lips and wish your pure heart well.

I'm already halfway gone from this world, I'm already seeing dawn in a brand new land. And the petals are falling on my grave, and I'll kiss your eyes and tuck you into bed.

November Song

In the blood and in the glory,
In the ice and in the rain,
In the dust that falls from heaven,
Will we walk this way again?

In November's wistful sunsets,
In the footprints in the sand,
Under bare and rattling branches,
Will we walk this way again?

It's the longest walk I've ever taken,
The sand is stinging, cold and raw.
But when I look over my shoulder
Our footsteps stop outside the door.

One day soon we'll touch the doorknob,
Where our fingers intertwine.
Cold brass melting under our hands,
Will we walk this way again?

November Hurts, Sometimes

The sand is all covered with dry dead leaves, they skitter across the cobblestones like brown leather moths while the Sun walks away south and the sky whispers, "November."

It's the dry, dead, fast cooling valley between the end of summer, and all those warm promises, and the end of the year, when we light candles in the night and hold hands 'round burning Yule logs.

And I hope I can hold on that long....

Prayer For My Friend

Dear God,
Please give her the peace
of a tree going to sleep for the winter,
breathing slow and easy
as the leaves blow down to the ground.

Please protect her,
and keep her safe.
Let no one and nothing
hurt her or harm her
in any way.

Please teach her how to love herself,
so she can love others,
and let them love her.

And please help her to be happy....
and if I can be your instrument to teach her that skill,
just tell me what to do,
You know I would do anything for her.

The Night Before All Hallows' Eve

We were sitting on the bed, Emily and me, holding hands by the light of a candle in a deep blue glass sconce. She was wearing a denim skirt, knee socks and a black t shirt, looking totally adorable as always. Her hot pink chucks were parked on the floor under the edge of the bed, and Skunk was curled up in her lap purring.

As usual, I was bugging her with questions. What is to come? What is the other side like? And as usual she was laughing and asking, "Jim, would you really want me to tell you? Or would you rather find out on your own?" You see, Emily is my friend, and my lover, but she is also my spirit guide....so how would y0u answer that question? I told her, I would much rather find out on my own. And with her as my helper I know I'll get it right.

And now I know what's waiting when I cross over, and I can't wait!

Satine

Falling through air, falling through time, in a gold lame' cloud, with your bloody handkerchief pressed to your pale lips. My God I love you! Collapse on the stage and I swear I will bear you up, breathe God's sweet air into your hungry lungs, feel your heart pounding through your luminous skin, kiss your eyes to give you happy dreams even as they glaze over into unseeing stillness....if your time is over, so is mine.

Rain Dance

You were dancing in the rain with a black rose in your hair, it glittered in the lightning while your boots splashed in the puddles and your skirt was twirling madly. And you flashed your hungry smile when you pulled me close against you and I fell into your brown eyes and I took your hand and spun you and I kissed your rainy fingers and you laughed and shook the droplets from your hair.

And I'm always surprised by how strong your hands are when you hold on to me. I like it, a lot.

And you took the black ribbon from your neck and held my hand, and wrapped it around our wrists and it looked like forever, and that made me happy. Don't ever unwrap it, okay?

The Comets Of October

There's a girl dancing on the moon tonight, twirling mad and holy in her long black skirt. Her boots are kicking up clouds of diamond dust, and the sweat on her face glistens in the starlight.

And I'm stuck here, with my tears so close to the surface, if I can't cry them I'll have to bleed them out. Sweet relief, when the blade knicks my soul. Take all the blood you want, I won't need it much longer. And when it's all gone you can set me free to dance with you in the airless vacuum under a billion stars, and I'll feel so sorry for my friends we left behind. Breathing is so over rated!

And then our real life can begin.

First Weekend Of Autumn

Emily is all in black tonight, we took a walk under the almost full harvest moon and she looked like a piece of the soft autumn night drifting to earth on a moonbeam. Long black skirt, black t shirt, black ribbon holding her pony tail, black sandals on her feet. Deep black eye shadow, even black lipstick, this a side of her I've not seen before. She's not wearing her glasses, and from the glitter in her eyes I can tell she has contacts in. She slipped her arm through mine as we walked on the Promenade, and I think I stood a little taller in spite of my aching back, that's how proud I was that someone so wonderful wants to spend her time with me.

I bought us ice cream cones on Montague Street, double chocolate fudge for her, rocky road for me. She's the only person I've ever seen who enjoys an ice cream cone as much as my friend Jane, who's my best and oldest friend on the planet. She actually rubbed her tummy and did a little dance step in the street and gave me a very chocolate kiss; people passing by smiled and one guy walking with a girl who could almost have been her sister laughed and gave us a thumbs up.

We came back home and watched a movie, "My Louisiana Sky". I'd ordered it 'cos Juliette Lewis was in it. She really only had a small part in it, but it was a totally sweet movie that left us both feeling really good. Now she's lying on the bed watching Live From The Artist's Den, featuring The Black Crowes. She's changed into one of my t shirts for a night gown. She's lying on her back and Skunk is curled up under her arm, purring so loudly I can hear him over here at my desk. He loves her a lot, and so do I.

Haiku For My Friend

My hands feel useless
when I look at your pain in
the holy moonlight

Nine Years Later

The ghosts are so near tonight, floating like unanswered prayers in the cold blue-white light over Manhattan. Parents, children, lovers, best friends, all wondering what the hell happened under that achingly beautiful blue sky.

And the glass has long since shattered, and the steel has long since bent in the heat. And their blood has long since soaked into the merciful sand, and their souls have been taken back home.

Please Lord keep me from remembering that morning. It's more than I can handle right now. Please take my memories and give them life everlasting. They deserve so much more than I can ever offer them.

September

Want to walk out of here, and my footprints in the dust will be the only autograph I leave behind. I won't even lock the door, just leave it all there. You can have it if you want it, but I don't know why you would want it. I'll take care of the two people who matter to me, and the rest is nothing but more dust....and there's enough of that here already.

And Emily will be standing in the hallway, her eyes sparkling, her long wait over at last. And I'll reach for her hand, and she'll reach for mine, and when our fingers twine together there'll be no turning back. "Is it really finally over Jim? Can we really finally start our lives now?" "Yes we can, Angel. You saw my body lying on the bed, didn't you? It's someone else's problem now...."

And before we walk out the door we'll stop to kick the dust off our shoes on the old cast iron step that leads out of here. And the dust will settle on the tile and the slate, but we'll be so far gone by then.... And the stars and moons and comets will try to suck our light up but it will be too much for them.

The Last Saturday Night Of August

I can hear voices through the window, floating on the summer night. Words flitting like gypsy moths between the trees, words drifting through the leaves, words creeping across the moss and the warm rough concrete like hungry caterpillars. "Take my hand." "I love you." "I'm so sorry." "Goodbye." "What a loser!" "I miss him!" Words praying, clinging, slicing like a razor blade, words wishing so hard to be picked up and hugged. Words used like a kiss, words used like a hangman's rope....

And Emily is sitting cross legged on the bed, Skunk curled up in her lap. She's wearing a long white skirt and a white tank top, her feet are bare and there's a silver Om on a black cord around her smooth soft neck. Her hair is hanging loose, tumbling down her breast like auburn smoke. She's taken her glasses off, her eyes are so heartbreaking in the candle light. No yesterday, no tomorrow, just this moment, as my hand reaches out toward hers....

I'm so glad we don't need words.

Sunday Night Rainstorm

The rain is shimmering, rattling across the oak leaves, sluicing down the gutter while the thunder strikes like the back beat played on an Arabian drum. Emily stands at the window, lights out, watching it through the open blinds. "Wow Jim, I made it here just in time!", she laughs. I'm sitting on the bed, watching her watch the storm. She's wearing a black t shirt spangled with silver stars, denim skirt, knee sox and bright pink Chucks and she looks completely adorable. Of course she's totally dry, weather doesn't seem to have any effect on her. Nothing dampens her spirits.

I walk over to the window and stand behind her, my hands on her shoulders, and kiss the top of her head as we both look out at the summer rain. She leans back against me and looks up, and I see the lightning bolts reflected in her tortoise shell glasses. One look in those eyes is all it takes to completely melt me.

"Autumn's coming Jim, and I can't wait. It's my favorite time of year." "Mine too honey, it always was, but even more after I met you on an October evening." She turns around to face me, and wraps her arms around me, hugs me tight. I put my hand under her chin, tip her face up to look at me, and her smile is the best gift I could ever hope for.... I am so blessed!

Thank You For An August Night

Your long satin skirt is glittering with moonlight and rain, sparkling and flashing as you twirl, your boot heels clacking like castanets on the hot sidewalk til you fall into my arms laughing. And I catch you and bend you back like Clark Gable in Gone With The Wind and kiss you under the street light's indifferent smile. The air shimmers with steam and hope, and I can taste the sweat on your lips.

Back at home I can see the candle light reflected in your deep brown eyes, while you sit on the bed and so achingly slowly pull down the zippers on your boots. You toss them into the corner like an old lover's phone number, and stand on the bed dancing to Tift Merritt on the stereo, your feet in black fishnets making waves and tide pools in my dragon bedspread. Leap into my arms baby, I'll always catch y0u.

And now you're sleeping, your shoulder slowly rising and falling as you breathe in your dreams, dressed in one of my t shirts for a night gown, your hair spread in a quiet black prayer across the pillow. I'll lie down with you in a minute, and hold you til it's time for you to leave....

Wednesday Night

You had me the second that our eyes met, I couldn't look away even if I'd wanted to. I took your hand as we boarded the train and you rested your head on my shoulder, your hair drifting in a violet waterfall down my chest. We took a long slow walk on the beach in the late afternoon, your boot heels crunching in the hungry white sand. You asked me if you should take your ring off, but I told you to leave it on, it's alright.

And when darkness fell we danced in the thunder, danced under the stars and the comets while the world shook and I felt the sweat in the small of your back while we waltzed on the edge of a grave. And when we kissed I tasted blood, was it yours, or mine? I don't know. But I thanked God for showing me I'm still alive. Sometimes I'm not so sure about that.

On the train ride back there was only one open seat and you sat in my lap, my hand on your knee, your arm around my shoulder. I kissed y0ur cheek and said, "Thank you, ma cher, for a night that I'll never forget." And you laughed and said, "I'm sure you won't, Jim!"

And hours later we were lying on the bed in your cool dark hotel room, the curtains open, looking so far down on the rainy lights of Broadway, the wet breeze blowing down the side streets, the lightning dancing with the angels, the night exploding in a neon dream of joy.

And tonight you're back home in Montmartre, and I'm here in New York City, and I'll always love you, even though we'll never speak again. Thank you.

Summer Tides

Sinking lower in the water, my tongue can taste the salty waves, my eyes get splashed and my heart is diving down to where the pain can't find it anymore. And I wonder, how far below my feet is the bottom? If I stand and try to walk out, will I feel the cold wet sand between my toes? Or will I just sink a little deeper, while the rip tide takes me farther out where the shore line's just a memory and the waves roll cool and blue and green and the stars swing down so bright and close and the moonlight whispers in my ear and the memories don't hurt?

God, I hope so.

Blue Skies Grey Eyes

She's the angel of the hills,
her eyes are so defiant and
her stare is hard and flinty
but her heart is warm and open.

I met her in a lonely place,
she was the only real live person
in that cold and windy desert
and I hoped to know her better.

We talked all night until the sun
was lighting up the windows and the
shadows of the night time sank
beneath the rolling foaming harbor waves.

Now she's my friend and I'm so glad
we looked beyond the obvious, and I
took her hand when she offered it
and the world lit up and the walls came falling down.

The Night Before The Fourth Of July

Emily is quiet tonight, her eyes look so far away. Earlier we lay on the bed, she with her head on my shoulder, watching a not very good movie. When it was over and we sat up I noticed the shoulder of my shirt was damp, I'm pretty sure she was quietly crying. I asked her what was wrong and she brushed it off, "It's nothing Jim, it's just something about July Fourth...." I didn't want to pry, because I believe a lady is entitled to her secrets. And anyway, she's twenty-five, she's old enough to know what she wants.

We went out and sat in the garden, watching the prayer flags flap in the night breeze, watching the slow moving stars rising over the roof of the church next door. I lit a candle on the wrought iron table, and she curled up against me on the old oak and iron bench. I kissed her forehead, then her eyes, then the tip of her nose, which made her laugh, and that was just what I wanted. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, kissed me and said, "Thank you Jim, I needed that!" "You're welcome Em, think good thoughts of me and I'll do the same for you, and we'll both get to heaven that much faster!"

But I'm really enjoying the journey, the getting there, it's so much fun!

The First Of July

We were sitting on the bed listening to Kristofferson in the quietest part of the evening, when the sky was turning from blue to black and candle glow was filling the room. We were sitting on the bed, Emily on my lap with her arm around my shoulder, singing along softly. "Let the devil take tomorrow, Lord tonight I need a friend...." I love to hear her sing.

When the music stopped she leaned her head on my shoulder and whispered, "What's the matter Jim? There's something hurting you, isn't there?" After more than three years, she knows me so well.

"Honey, it's everything and nothing. It's feeling myself slowing down. It's feeling all these pains, and knowing that it only goes downhill from here. It's knowing I can't do the things I used to. It's knowing that I'm a lot closer to the end than the beginning, and half of me is looking forward to that while the other half is thinking about missing the good things I have in this life."

She wrapped her arms around me and gave me a quick hug, kissed my cheek, while giggling the whole time. "Jim, that's just time! It's weighing on you heavily,
'cos you think you've seen too much of it. Time can be sneaky that way, piling on you like a load of bricks, squeezing your heart. It can make you think that here and now is all that matters!" She burst out completely laughing at that idea, and I couldn't help but join her.

She smoothed her skirt over her knees, took my face in her hands and looked deep into my eyes until we were both overtaken by the glorious silliness of the moment. "Do you love me?", she asked. "You know I do!", I answered. "Then don't sweat it, silly! You know we're gonna be together forever, whether it's fifty years from now, or tomorrow morning. I can wait!"

....And now she's sound asleep, I just took her tortoise shell glasses off and put them in the drawer alongside mine. She's so still, so quiet, the way only a ghost can be. And I'm sitting here writing this down, because I want to remember this night, and how kind she was to me. I can't wait for forever.

Love Haiku

Why am I so bad
at loving everything I
love? I'd love to know.

My Friend

I hear your foot steps in the dark,
and they echo off the stars,
sometimes slow and sometimes running,
sometimes keeping time with mine.

I hear your foot steps in the dark,
and I want to take your hand,
but your hands are full of lightning,
and your eyes are full of heat.

I hear your foot steps in the dark,
and I'm standing clear and hoping
you don't know how much I worry
'cos I want you to be free.

I hear your foot steps in the dark,
and I want to keep you safe,
but your heart is full of comets,
and your hands are full of light.

I hear your foot steps in the dark,
keeping time with all your hoping,
and I'll pray for what you want,
and I'll pray it makes you happy.

and I want to see you happy....

After You've Gone

The sun's going down
on the sand and the smoke,
on the mist and the boulders,
on the moon and the ring
that it's wearing.
And the sky's full of dust
that falls in my eyes
but she's kissing me anyway
and it's just too much trouble
to blink.

May Again, At Last

It's the first night of May and the trees are finally lush and fat and green and exploding with life like slow motion fireworks. The air is so soft and warm that you might not even feel it when it holds your hand while you walk the quiet streets of Saturday night.



And the rising moon's reflecting in your brown eyes, and the night wind is ruffling your hair.

It's May

I walked from heaven all the way to Montreal, now I wish I could walk back. Early morning on Place Jacques Cartier, golden sunshine in my cup. I wish they would bring me some coffee.

One afternoon I saw Jesus on the river here, he looked really really happy.

One afternoon I met the ghost of an old lover, drinking wine in Cafe Iroquois.

One starry night on Ile Notre Dame, I got lost in her eyes and I never recovered.

Easter Morning

I remember you in the rising light of the sun on Easter morning, sitting cross legged on a trash can with the silliest smile on your face. And the sun lit up your hair, but your eyes were still looking at the moon. And that night we slow danced to soft music on the stereo, lit by the blue light of the candle you gave me.



And all that time is behind us now, all those oceans we swam, all those hills we climbed.

Don't Know Where It Went Wrong

The tears are so close, in the smallest hours of the night, when the moon is setting and you can't stand the thought of the sunrise. The clock is ticking so loud, and everything you ever failed at is staring at you and silently asking, "Why?"

And the moon is hiding behind the forest, and the tides have run away to sea. And the tears are sliding down your face now, does it really have to be this way?

Valentine's Eve

Emily is sitting on the bed swaying to Sarah McLachlan on the stereo, Full Of Grace. She's wearing all red tonight for Valentine's Day, red sweater and jeans, and heart shaped earrings. When she pulled her boots off I had to laugh 'cos she's even wearing red socks. Her pony tail is tied with a red ribbon.

She's adorable and I'm blessed.

Dinner was pizza and salad and wine, really good wine. In fact, we're on our second bottle now. It makes her very silly, right now she's singing to Skunk, who's lying in her lap looking utterly relaxed. She's got that smile on her face....

What a sweet way to spend a winter evening!

Obituary

He died in the arms of Love. It was a place where he'd never lived, but he was allowed to die there. They built him a marble tomb, but it was cold so his soul spent all its time down by the river, watching the sun dancing on the waves and wondering how he'd got it all so wrong. Just another ghost haunting Love, looking sad eyed through her window when her candles were lit. Did she ever see his face, on the other side of the moonlit glass? Not very likely.

He died of the quiet, and because things went on just the way they were til it seemed like forever would never get here. He died from eating dinner alone in the dark, in front of the tv. He died from his own lonely touch, hoping for some kind of communion. He died because February wouldn't go away, no matter how hard he tried.

And now he sits by the river with the other ghosts, hoping one of them will look back when he looks her way. At least it's something to hope for.