the rix mix

A face behind the glass
I stared at her

Tiny girls in leotards
walked in & out
of her tiny office
 
A shy child needing her
to sew a tear - she closed the door

Mothers gossiping
who got the best parts
in The Nutcracker

Shifting my weight
from foot to foot
pretending to read an old magazine
was my dance

Twice I went out for air
then returned to wonder
at her rice flour face
& when she walked down the hall
I admired her ass

I had heard she had a boyfriend
but was unhappy with his abuses
I wondered if she ever danced away
from those men

I was tired of dancing -
I wanted to fill envelopes
with words about the moon -
hand them out as my resume 

When the ballet class ended
my niece stage-whispered
 “Did you talk to her?”

*******
1991. 17 year relationship with Chtistine over; intense, unpleasant rebound affair shortly afterward (woman snatched at a poetry reading from another poet, who wasn't acting fast \enough - he never forgave me); .nearly a one night stand with  a  (married)  friend visiting from out of town - encouraged by mutual friends. I went to work at Pearl Arts Supply in Woodbridge. I did meet a woman there eventually, together three years.  Dabbled in local  newspaper relationships  wanted to no satisfaction. This was not how I met women. I hadn't "dated" since high school. All my other significant relationships were meet somewhere, hang out usually with friends, then go off & hang out on out own.

Labels: family, love, poem

"Joe had been sedated for about 10 days and on a respirator. Tuesday, they had him breathing on his own for a while and were going to do the same yesterday. Today I went to see him and he was sitting up, eyes open and no respirator! He had pulled it out and was breathing on his own. He was still quite groggy from the sedation, but we'll keep our fingers crossed that this may be a good sign and he'll at least recover as best he can."

But there are many things and events in which we can see a reason for genuine hope, namely, the seed-like presence of that which is hoped for. In the seed of a tree, stem and leaves are already present, and this gives us the right to sow the seed in hope for the fruit. We have no assurance that it will develop. But our hope is genuine. There is a presence, a beginning of what is hoped for. And so it is with the child and our hope for his maturing; we hope, because maturing has already begun, but we don't know how far it will go. We hope for the fulfillment of our work, often against hope, because it is already in us as vision and driving force. We hope for a lasting love, because we feel the power of this love present. But it is hope, not certainty. From "The Right to Hope" by Paul Tillich

Labels: family

Jean wrote: "Joe is not doing well at all. They cannot do the bypass surgery, since he is still precarious and would not survive the surgery. They were thinking of putting in stents as a temporary measure, but Dr said that, also, would be dangerous. Jim is at hospital today. At least he understands what the Dr is telling him. I was there yesterday and will be back there tomorrow. If you believe in prayer, please pray for Joe."    Bad news. Not sure is it's Joe or Jim understanding what the doctor is saying.

I sent Jean a list of everyone currently on my prayer list. Unsurprising she isn't certain  I pray. Here is my prayer, from Paul the Apostle in Romans:

For I am convinced that neither death nor life,
neither angels nor demons,
neither the present nor the future,
nor any powers,
neither height nor depth,
nor anything else in all creation,
will be able to separate us from the love of God
that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Not even our own doubts are sufficient to separate us.

Labels: family

My brother Jim has been popping up on Facebook recently.  He has nothing to say, but I'm  glad to see him there. My particular part of FB is on the wacky side;  odd music, photos of cholesterol  loaded  sandwiches, deviant cheap paperback covers of the Fifties, theological discussions, quotes from the old gothic soap Dark Shadows. SSD depressives & our allies. Even a few professional hockey fans. Annette's passing was taken hard, so was George Jones', we loved them both.   Jim can be a screwball, but he's also a Methodist pastor, naturally it inhibits him on social media.

Labels: family, social media