Saturday, April 28, 2012

Wait, Parsnips?

A poem
by Lucy
and Adam:

red skies
and gold
(like macaroni cheese)

camouflage zebras,



in rythym

and time.

Friday, April 27, 2012

Dancing in the light

So there's this guy in "American Gods," Czernobog - a curmudgeonly old immigrant with rounded shoulders, dark features and eyebrows like a cat's whiskers* - who coincidentally is an eastern-european god of winter, darkness and death.**

Sounds potentially creepy, I know, but like most gods in the book, he's portrayed in a more neutral light -just a dude*** struggling to get by and make sense of his life in an ever changing world.

(As I continue to write this, I realize the challenge of this next part -but- here goes...)

Kinda reminds me of me.

(blink, blink)

Yeah, not so much in the hitting-things-in-the-head-and-eviscerating-them sort of a way (read the footnotes, dude).

More like an aging-with-grim-determination-as-I-try-to-redefine-myself-in-this-shifting-landscape sorta way.

But the part I haven't gotten to yet, is where Czernobog is actually two guys at once. Kinda sorta.

'Cause when spring comes (and spring can mean so many things) Czernobog morphs into Bielobog, his estranged brother, and becomes...

The god of spring,
and life.

Maybe even redemption.

So that's the crux of it really - how this dark, aging curmudgeon, transforms into something lighter and... regenerative.

And the darkness ever waits it's turn.

But for now, I"ll dance in the light.

*At least that's how I remember him in my minds eye, Horatio! :)

**Who not so coincidentally made his living after coming over as a "knocker," the guy at a slaughterhouse who hits cattle in the head with a sledgehammer, just before they get cut up into little pieces. 

***"Dude" here, incidentally, can be interchanged with either "guy" or "person" and is meant in the universal sense, regardless of sex, creed or color. And deity status. 

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Turned 45 yesterday

Life is like a magic trick.

Now you see it.

Now you don't.

Nothing to do, meanwhile, but enjoy the show.

Wednesday, April 04, 2012

early a.m.
and my mind
like a mouse
at bits and pieces
of the previous day's leavings;


frenetic birds bleat
their cacophonous symphony

the moon's sliver

(movement unseen)

pre-dawn inky blackness
fades to violet...