Prose

One DNA strand away…

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

We all like to think, we’re rather distinct, but in fact we’re not, at least not as much as we like to think.

You see, DNA is a thing that distinguishes this from that. One stand, or even less in fact, makes you as different from this or that.

It’s not that we’re not unique. That’s it, in fact, that makes it such a feat, that little strand.

And so we stand, all proudly so! But this much we all should know — that a little strand of a thing so small, can make the difference between us all.

In the meantime, perhaps, look around you now – see, we’re each unique, and in that wisdom I beg you seek…

If we see all that we’ll have no fear, you see, or future tear, because we’ll see the good within us all and live our lives, I pray, with peace, or dare I say – love? For all.

Oh, so dear…

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

I once was a desperate man. A desperate man, yes, I was.

Until I realized that desperate was as desperate does and that it would only bring me more because.

Because my situation, you see, was such that — a man suddenly without a home. A man suddenly without his children. A man suddenly without most everything then, made me useless and unable to do what I wished I could have done, to do what was left so desperately left undone, but I couldn’t because of she.

She held the rope tied tight around my neck.

She wrote the narrative of my days back then.

She decided everything to my dismay.

She is not a projection of my own dark mind. Not upon which a therapist would make their dime, not on me, oh no, oh no.

Yet, she. Still she. Sadly so, and upon this wretched earth I go with barely a day’s reprieve from the worst of her!

I’m done with SHE, I call her IT! I rid her gleely with my spit!

Yet she was IT, one time — a time very long gone I scarcely know. A sliver of the memory remains yet still, remains upon this hill of memories lost and barely gained, brings back, I must admit not just a little pain…

My heart does yearn for those better years. The time I tenderly held it, she, or her — my sweet, oh so dear.

Oh, so dear….

As it is…

~ Tim ~ 2 Comments

Why does my heart ache, so much just now? It’s a thing, I wonder how

Often, because it’s because I see too much?

Or is it because I want a crutch — a thing to hopelessly caress and clutch?

Or is it because I do see, perhaps some, or a little, or a wee bit even…beyond…just me?

Of a land where others roam beyond my home, beyond this place, beyond just my only face?

I’d like to think it is. If not, then take me now dear Lord because I’m past this biz…

No vainglory hopes for more than this…I love all this, just as it is.

Dross…

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

This day is dross, it grows like moss and yet it goes a pitter-patter.

Why should I care, why should I dare, since it really doesn’t matter.

And yet, some say, I should care before I cast it all into the air, for the wind to take it where it will, this way or that without being still, for a moments grasp in desperation until it lands upon the station, of life lived, lost and left behind. Too much thought for this frail mind.

I am what I am, or I is what I is, as Popeye said, before he died upon his bed.

There really isn’t this or that or whatever else we think is this or that.

There is only what is, accept or not, not a damn thing upon which to hang our hat

Other than who we are and know down deep. And with that fact, I’ll rest in sleep.

This I see…

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

Today I saw into my past. Today I saw that it doesn’t last. Well, we do, but the memory doesn’t. It’s up to us to make it present. It is our choice you see, it really is up to you and me, to make of it what we will or won’t.

Today I saw into that past. I’m glad that it didn’t last. Well, I know that our memories wax and wane and can follow us willy-nilly upon the plane. But it is our choice you will see, it really is up to you and me, to make it what we will or what we don’t, and most won’t.

Today I saw into today. I’m glad for it, it’s here to stay. Well, I know it’s short and about to end, but that won’t stop me from hitting send, on that text to my closest friend, my love and dearest confidant, the one no one will know until the end. I’m good with that and so are they, and that’s all I have to say about stuff that’s personal, that tucks down deep into this arsenal, that lives this life that’s separate as the flowers be, that shows and gives us all their goodness and beauty.

This I see. Amen, this I see.

What is a poet?

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

What is a poet?

A rhymer of words?

Or a mincer of the same?

Expressing what is? What was? What should be?

Perhaps, although I prefer the raw version.

Yes, the raw version, which is, of course, the freshest.

Whatever else follows after isn’t the freshest, although it should be, logically.

I prefer this!

What is the answer?

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

Vainglory hope is the answer. How many people have been puzzled by life, hoping desperately to find an answer to the meaning of it all, but die before they find it? I think most, like 99.9 percent.

“Oh, Tim’s full of doom and gloom tonight!”. I may be. But you know, I’m 57 now (2016). 7 years ago, were it not for modern medicine, I’d be 7 years dead. What’s that all mean? That “God” has some plan for me, which is why I’m still alive today? I doubt it. If he has, I haven’t figured it out yet, 7 years later. I’d like to hope that God had some sort of special plan for me, but you know, at this stage of life and living, I’ve learned a lot, and am ok being a bit skeptical now.

The fact is, as I said above, most people die before they figure life out, before they have their epiphany, before they have the “Damascas Road” experience. That’s just the way it is. Why? I dunno.

What can we make of these dismal statistics? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I don’t think we were created for “something special”, folks. Yes, we are each unique and wonderful human beings, but that’s as far as it goes, I think. Whatever we can give or do through to the end of today is itself a huge blessing. I know.

As the bible says, “For today we live and tomorrow we die”. Maybe that’s really it! If we can keep that in mind each day that we awaken, then we might make a difference in the lives of the people around us for that next day’s grace. If we don’t, well…no one will really notice. Oh well.

Today is all we have, folks. Tomorrow is a crap-shoot, a blessing if given…another day to make another day count for those around us. Let’s do at least that.

Old Bill…

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

Today I take my elderly (compared to me; he’s 75) friend, Bill, for his follow-up appointment with the Neurologist. I took him to his first appointment about 3 weeks ago. Surprisingly, the doctor invited me in then to “hear the news”. It wasn’t good news. He said, “I don’t have good news for you, Bill. In fact it’s very bad news. You have ALS, Bill”. Bill looked confused. “I thought I had Sciatica?” was all he could sputter, surely, amidst his overwhelming clouds of emotion, with a very confused, searching type of look on his face Meanwhile, I’m trying to remember what the fuck ALS is. I should have asked the doctor. I thought Bill might know. I’d ask him when we leave. He didn’t know. We had to Google it, right there in the bloody elevator as we were going down….

The doc said he wanted to run some tests to rule out “other things” that can mask as ALS, like AIDS. AIDS??? Bill??? Hardly!!! Then the doc said he was going on vacation for 6 weeks and wouldn’t be able to see Bill again until June 7th. That’s today. Meanwhile, two days after that appointment, Bill’s back feels better. He calls to tell me “good news”. No back pain, to Bill, means he doesn’t really has ALS. It’s Sciatica afterall! “Oh that’s great, Bill”. “Ya,” he says with childish delight. Post-script: I can still hear his desperately hopeful voice saying that to me now as I re-read this. (Feb 2018).

I know all the “Stages of Grief“. I first learned all that when I was a cop, then later at university in the plethora of Psychology and Sociology courses I took. Bill classically launched  into the “Denial” stage, and has stayed there for the last three weeks. At least he has been able to relax and have some hope for the last three weeks…

I think I’m more nervous this morning than Bill is. Assuming the doctor asks me in again, I know what I’m going to hear. The doctor didn’t say that Bill “might” have ALS a few weeks ago. He said, most definitively that he “HAS” ALS, but wanted to run those other tests, you know, to “rule out AIDS” and the like.

In the meantime I gotta say I’ve been struggling with my own mortality. ALS (Lou Gehrig’s disease) usually strikes people in their prime. Think Lou Gehrig or Stephen Hawking. Bill’s actually lucky to be getting it so late in life. Once diagnosed, you have a 2 to 5 year lifespan left. There is no cure and sweet all medications to help with it. Not that I’m assuming that I will get it, or God knows what else. There are a host of diseases running around out there. But hey, I’m 57 and very healthy these days–since my near-death experience at 50. But seeing all this happen with my friend Bill really isn’t easy, for Bill especially, of course. I’m ok. At 11:30 this morning Bill isn’t going to be ok. I’ll take him for lunch afterwards to his favourite spot. They serve good beer there too, which I’m sure he will be far more interested in today than the food…

I realized this morning that I’ve lived a very sheltered life. Nevermind that I saw a boat-load of life for the short time that I was in the police department. Since then, I really have been insulated. I don’t know why. Well, our society seems to be built that way. We hide all of the nasty stuff, in sanitoriums or hospitals or rest homes. And I think the police department may have shocked me so much that I unconsciously insulated myself and closed my eyes to many of life’s vagaries and vicissitudes. Surprisingly, I think, in some weird sense, I’ve been missing something important. Time to open my eyes again me thinks, look-see, and write about it, starting this morning with Bill.

Post-script: Bill died in November 2017.

Midsummer’s Night…

~ Tim ~ Leave a comment

Midsummer night, the birds alight….
Sunset’s now, I don’t know how, to express the thoughts yet so bright
The fields lay fallow but now aren’t shallow, they burst with life and little strife
Seedlings gone, now tall and strong, the sunflower leans and faces high
Cricket’s groan, upon their stones, frog’s all follow into the shallow
Bright moon waning, after such a showing
Too little that we’ll ever know
Not to matter, tomorrow is another day, that I say with crickets groaning, the frogs a croaking almost soaking in this and that and the other thing, another day for us to sing!