relationship – Page 4 – three good words

July 20, 2015

07/04

July Fourth and they were all in New Jersey at a grand cook-out in Inez’ parent’s back yard. Inez had invited everyone, and almost all had come: Chloë and someone new by the name of Will (Nicolas was hi-sto-ry, oh, you wouldn’t believe), Clarissa with her Greg, who had recently been promoted to ‘the love of her life’ (though she still wasn’t sure if he wasn’t seeing someone else ‘on the sly’), Olivieri with Rachel (calm and content as always) and Matisen alone. He’d decided Inez had to have some hot cousin he could chat up and talk into God-knew-what, Lana didn’t even want to know.

By the look of it he was succeeding very well with a certain Isabella, it was depressing really. Never mind all that, there was her, Lana with Timothy, Timothy who had his arm around her whenever he could. There were tables and chairs set up in small groups, children racing around, the Santa Cruz talking and laughing animatedly, merengue cascading out of the enormous stereo on the veranda, one whole side of the garden an enormous smorgasbord of delicious food. The sky was wonderfully blue, the parade worth seeing, and everyone happy to have a day off to celebrate.

Lana was already on her third margarita, her fingers still sticky from the fantastic barbecue, not that she was complaining, Inez’ family really knew their food. She was anyway laughing at Inez, who couldn’t stop grumbling about another suitor her family had set her up with, this time a certain Ramón. He seemed quite nice, not bad-looking either, but Inez ‘so didn’t care’, though she remained polite. They all meandered from table to table, listened in to wild stories about the Santa Cruz’ life in New Jersey, laughing with everyone, and generally had a really good time. Every now and then Timothy would pull Lana close and kiss her lips, always gently with a hint of more, making Inez’ mother wink at Lana and then give her daughter a telling look that made Inez sigh and roll her eyes.

July Fourth and it turned out to be one of the few days in a long while where Lana was just happy to be where she was, with her friends and Timothy, her surrogate family. July Fourth and for a few hours Lana was just happy to be alive.

June 14, 2015

white stairs

quiet steps
across sunny stone
scaling the depth of summer

white stairs
solemnly clear
bright
in their commemoration
of a cruel time

now used daily
as a resting place
by those visiting from abroad.

after sunset
voices rise
to glasses raised

laughter rippling
across fountains
sparkling in fanning light

lives lived
among strangers
together
on ancient steps
once built by a great power

then everpresent
now lying low
among the weathered stone

remembered
but no longer known.

April 17, 2015

before/after

Before
not love
no
the necessity of a moment
pain that was cured
freedom secured
nothing angelic
nothing from above
no
nothing
notlove

After
to miss a presence
that fills the space
between night and day
work and play
a knowing
a showing
of understanding
feeling, something
beyond
beyond

Now
peace, today
not age
maybe wisdom
far more play
now
not then
real and true
enjoyment
.

December 23, 2014

same ol’, same ol’

Every year
the drama begins
sitting around the table
eating drinking
making merry
singing carols and songs wassailing

And then it happens,
right among the joyous crowd
that one little word
that one precious tone
eyes wide, pursed lips
a silence full ‘Oh-oh’ and ‘Here we go’
Oh God did you have to start that now?’

And the mayhem begins
the rants, arguments
and loud angry shouts
Uncle George, please
Aunt Jemma, why? Granma!
and Tammy, hold your tongue
Lucas, stop egging him on
but Ian and Joyce pour more oil into the fire
Eddie and Sara smiling sadly, looking on,
it’s all so predictable like that 12 days song

That one little look
that one small word
a sigh, a warning
sent out with serious eyes
‘Please, have another drink’
‘No, that’s what started it!’
The wine, the grog
those glasses of homemade eggnog
all of them pistol-shots to
The He said She said Marathon:

‘I never said’, ‘You did say’
This, that and remember that day
two, three, ten years ago
‘When I was a kid’
and everyone groans,
sighs, heads shaking, while eyes are rolled

Every single year, back when we played in the snow,
Every single Christmas that comes and goes.

December 12, 2014December 12, 2014

never thus

…and gone is the time
when I was nothing more than mine
to have and hold
for there is no price
in what is nigh
high up on clouds
fluffed in quartets, symphonies
numbered nine

On crested hills
laughter spills
slowly into the warmth
that holds and keeps
out
a darkness that is not night.

It seeps, warmly
past hardened walls
turns all ice into joy,
waiting, hoping
blushing young, untouched
so coy
resting in that hardened shell
all spikes and swords
all banners flying
stepping aside to let this,
a miracle,
come and sit by the fire
kindled brightly, lively
inside.

And in the soft sun
caught with silk and sight
there lies waiting
a smile
open, wide
in shining gladness like newborn light
where what was lost
was never thus
but hidden, hiding
until a look, a light
enabled that tender newborn:
a joyful, content life.