Read Between the Signs

I keep seeing signs of you,
or from you.  I’m not sure which.
Or what you may be
trying to tell me.  Or if
it’s even you.  Is it?

Seems like a bit much
to be coincidental. Feels too persistent
to ignore. Too constant
to forget.  In the background, but
always there. Much like you
were in real life.

I miss the days when we talked
so much that we didn’t need to
anymore.  We only had to think it
not say it, but we knew we’d
always say it anyway.

I still see your eyes smiling
as you listened and talked and listened.
“I can read you like a book!”, you’d brag.
And, you could.  As I could you.
Usually.  We kept a few secrets.

Now, my inherited skepticism
is louder than all the forty-twos in the world.
I’d love to believe… but, it’s not like me
to not know you.  I’m not good
at reading in-between these signs.

~ smj

 

 

Stars,  Grace Potter And The Nocturnals

No Poems Today… Just Ramblings.

I wanted to write a poem.  Get out some of these feelings that I know are building up inside of me.  That is what happens when I don’t write for a long time.  And, I should know, because I routinely go through long periods of time, where I let this happen.  I don’t write… I don’t process or deal with things.  And, here I am again.

I looked at some drafts of poems that I had started, and thought they might be a good place to start…  but, it’s been too long.  They no longer make sense to me.  So,  I decided I would write a brand new poem.  But, I just stared at the screen.  It’s been too long, and I don’t know where to start.  So much has been happening in my life.  Problems with my own health, yet again. But, those things don’t seem all that major anymore considering all that is happening around me to those I care about and love. Yet, nothing that I seem to be able to put into a poem.  Nothing that wants to see the light of day,  or that I can use to make something beautiful, or to just try to make any sense.  Not yet.

Which, really, is quite fitting now that I think about it.  Because not much is making sense.  How do you make sense of your 20 year old nephew’s death from an accidental drug over-dose?  You don’t.  How do you help those you love, your brother and your sister-in-law/best friend,  get over the loss of their youngest child, and their only son?  You don’t.  Some things you just can’t get over.  I know this.  So, I’ve been trying my best just to help them cope…  but, I am not even sure how to do that.

I have always been a good empathizer.  Is that a word?  My spell-checker says “no”, but,

Happy Sibling Day ?

So, it’s “Siblings Day”? Never heard of it before. I’m sure my brothers will agree that there are way too many new holidays these days. Must be Hallmark trying to improve sales or something. Sheesh. We can barely keep track of the essential ones. Still, all these posts on Facebook about siblings made me reflect on my relationship with my brothers, and I felt like writing about it a bit. Only one of my brothers is on Facebook. Ironically, he’s the one who until fairly recently was pretty computer illiterate, and I figured he always would be. But, that’s one of the things about brothers. They can surprise you. For example, you can go your whole teenage life thinking that a brother hates you, and then you grow up and realize that they actually always did care.

When I was a kid, it seemed I had one big brother who let me hang out with him, and in the process taught me how to do everything I wasn’t supposed to do. Man, we had some fun though. Then, I had my oldest big brother that would get upset with me for doing those things, and tell on me. Because my oldest brother seemed to love to see me get in trouble and to NOT have fun, I assumed he didn’t like me much. Of course, I was wrong. He was just very protective. I realized that the older I became. When it came down to it, both of my brothers were always there for me, and still are. I always knew that. It’s a good feeling.

Growing up, I was always trying to be one of the boys. Except, I never really was. For starters because nobody was allowed to hurt me. My father would allow my brothers to kill each other – but, they were not allowed to hit me. Of course, they still did sometimes, rarely… but, they sure as hell didn’t let anyone else mess with me. My oldest brother was probably the most protective. He claims this is because he was the one to get in trouble if/when any of us got in trouble. I’ll buy that. The only one more scary-protective of me than my oldest brother was my Dad… and Dad could be pretty scary. After-all, he did regularly say things like, “I’ll rip your arm off and beat you over the head with the bloody end of it!”.

Shadow Talk

I’m not ready
to talk about you just yet
or the fact that your gone
but not really gone.

I can’t summon words,
dark or remorseful enough,
that express this, or allow
undeserved escape

from questions suppressed
in fear of answers that may be
too difficult to face.
Like fabled sea monsters
that might lurk below
in shadows, they grow.

~ smj

Collective Soul – In Between

Perpetual Teacher

Are you still teaching

guilty lessons from the grave?

Why can’t I just learn?

~ smj

 

“You, who are on the road must have a code that you can live by.
And so become yourself because the past is just a good bye.