Have you ever felt coerced to drive somewhere during a snow warning, conscious of the fact you should’ve stayed put? Four beers under the belt, and off I went. My demanding date and I met for dinner, did what honeys do, and back home with a blizzard blowing worse than when I left. It was more like sledding than driving. Six inches of snow, ice, and slush hid the road. The snowplows were behind, and the freeway was a frozen mess. Gliding along, I overtook two plows, trying to pass them. It was a bone-headed idea. When I almost was in front, my front wheels hit a ridge of high icy slush, which sent my whole car into a spin. When it straightened out, the car headed right at one plow. I closed my eyes, accepting the crash going to happen. There was a whooshing sound, another spin, and I cracked open my eyes. Somehow, the car perched on the berm on the other side of the road. It was as if I had gone through the plow truck. Strange thing, that when I closed my eyes, I saw a light and a shadow pass by. I wouldn’t close my eyes if an impact wasn’t sure. It would’ve been the last homecoming if I had collided with that snowplow. It wasn’t yet my time. I believe an angel deflected the car away from the danger. At any rate, I haven’t had a beer since.
Category Archives: Poetry
The old man (word checker underlined ‘old man’ as 'outdated' - he was, and so am I) said the world would be a great place to live if it weren’t for the people, and though he was a curmudgeon of the highest order, he was right. *And bugger off, you pseudo-academic algorithmic word checker trying to inject woke tame egg-headed words into my writing, get stuffed!* Squinting, bat-like, into the web page, which replaced the evening paper by the door, the old coot was right—the sordid stories of disease, war, murder, hatred, political shenanigans, sexual offenses against children, etc. The old man was true. A sting from an angry honey bee is more salubrious; a shark attack biting a swimmer in half is more beneficial than the wrongs fostered by sapiens with big bulbous brains wasting this blue pearl of a world and themselves.
Thumpers with drooping derrieres hanging pendulums for chests that go whip-whap when they jiggle along with chubby little brats (the apples stay close) at Walmart, yank undies out of huge cracks riding high-- --I see, said a visitor from Kenya, --what it means to be an American --(combining sight with thought into conclusion) 50 pounds from McDonald's add Giant Eagle whose pudgy wings strokes Piggly Wiggly to climax. Glibly following the latest diets; of low fat, high protein, processed vegan expensive laboratory-concocted junk to gorge upon, good carbs, bad carbs, dubbing bacon and eggs a coronary on a plate while the wiseacres down a Starbucks muffin with Macchiato soybean latte a green smoothie for a chaser then because of mixed messages from the scientific "experts," throwing in the towel saying "f*k it." swimming in oceans of sucralose pop to drown us as we count calories becoming lumps of happy fat to carry as American as apple pie
What if --we didn't expect love to fail? --we believe love overcomes all obstacles - even an empty bank account? --we didn't enhance negativity to suck the life from the positive? --we didn't focus on the past and future? --we didn't overlook the present? --we didn't consider the journey a waste even after the wheels came off? --we didn't live at the mercy of others' judgments - or even our own? --we were not in bondage to our fears? --we never justified bitterness as the reason to end a relationship? --we chose to be happy when everything seemed wrong? --we were convinced that there is a higher spiritual way that supersedes the stiff unbending symbols? --we were sure that living is about learning to love - empowering ourselves and others in our relationships? --we practiced kindness and respect as the highest forms of love? --we tried to understand rather than to judge? ???
As if it were today, the thoughts are a whirl, confused, excited, & dumbfounded - Standing in front of me, she has a smile that charts the heavens of unexplored space– she is a brilliant prism of multifaceted loveliness striking me gobsmacked with indescribable delight — I stare at her like a devotee having a beatific vision of an oasis after crawling in a desert Terrified at first, at evening we stroll together a mile down Church street next to the Old Baptist civil war cemetery with upward gaze, we are fairy-sprinkled by a star-bedazzled night. Her peridot and orange-speckled eyes dance with the stars too which we give names while pointing them out along the way, Holding hands, the surges begin-- raw energy tickling through each of us like the lunar ocean tide mounting higher, we ride the currents until we become the blushing sky, the embarrassed trees, the cornstalk scarecrows, & us children of the universe— flushed with innocent wonder our subatomic cores combine radiate crackling Tesla coils pulsate in sync with the night's chirping rhythm our hearts are quadraphonic the binding is palpable opening the bulkheads to young wonderment, I am a glad pupil. She is my poet princess training me teasing me & tantalizing me if we scale too fast, she gently throttles: "breathe." "savor the moment." "let it build." --our celestial bodies share an orbit by gravitational tension one with the ancient song of the zodiac, new stellar systems birth from our combined singularity. Sadly, four years ago, her quasar was torn away into another quadrant to leave a miserable void in mine. Yet black holes are necessary in the creative scheme of things worming a network between the galaxies A certain nighttime luminary still twinkles at me with her prodding smile.
A temporary standoff exists between microorganisms .. .... vs ,,,,, , , mitigating whales, elephants, bunnies, and humans. All organics are the macro from the micro. ... ,,,, <-> ?????? !!!!!! nanoparticles collude and collide, have love-fests --> O and beat war drums .. .. .. .. .. .. ..... explaining the pot-bellied tenant D who belches with incessant indigestion and the spike-helmeted mini machine infiltrating nasal passages. So whether it's birth-- (a combination of wet specks) or dying (domination of one bug over another), It's all about opportunistic bugs . . . . . . . Did I mention a bunny?