Memories are often daunting, to say the least. I sometimes find myself staring into nowhere re-living a childhood or teenage memory only to find myself smiling at my own ability to recall after all these years. Sure, there may be some dust on the memory but then life isn’t always lint free is it? The memories I like most are the ones I question to be real or made up in my ever so slightly disorganized thoughts. It’s those memories I find myself thinking about as I put pen to paper. Once I've finished composing a piece I re-read it, re-live it, and store it away in the memory bank.

Reunion

The old rotary dial phone hadn’t rung in he didn’t know how long? The sound of it startled him so it took a few rings before he could get to it. “hello” a pause then “hi dad” the old man sat down because the voice on the other end was one he hadn’t heard in a very long time. “how are you dad”? He didn’t answer right away as he didn’t know how he was or how he could explain it.” I’m good I reckon and how about you are things going well for you”? The old man twirled the phone cord still not believing that his first-born son was on the other end probably as nervous as he was. They hadn’t spoken since his wife, and his son's mother had passed away going on twelve years now. “I’m good dad I know it’s been a long time and I got to thinking about you today and how we left things all those years ago. I wanted to apologize to you, I was wrong but stubborn like someone else I know. The old man managed a little smile and remembered that day a dozen years ago when he told his son he was better than what he was doing. The son disagreed and stormed out of the house saying goodbye forever. “yea I guess both of us have that stubborn streak done we?” “dad you said I was better than that and you were right, I was so I did go to college and graduated first in my class. I went on to become a doctor and have my own practice, I did good dad and I wanted you to know that” there was silence on the line for a while just the old mans labored breathing that has bothered him for a while now.” Still smoking old man”? He replied with the sound of his old flip top lighter and the line grew silent once again. “seems we have a lot to catch up on dad, so I was thinking of flying up there for a visit sometime soon” there’s somebody I want you to meet. Two people. I’m married dad with a son.” The old man got up from the chair and looked out of the kitchen window, a place he stood so many times watching his son play.” A son you say? What do you call him?” “his name is William dad after you.” The old man dried the tears from his eyes and spoke slowly into the old rotary phone.” Guess I’ll make up the guest room then” Thanksgiving will be here soon how about a big dinner with all the trimmings”? His son agreed that would be nice and they said their goodbyes and hung up. The old man stood at the window awhile longer then went to his tool shed to gather some tools he hadn’t touched in years. He tightened the nuts and bolts on the old swing set and even gave the teeter-totter a fresh coat of paint after all he couldn’t have “William” thinking he didn’t take care of his toys….

You are the dream

Sometimes dreams can fill the emptiness we live with daily. I had one such dream last night. You were there, you were the dream. Everything I loved about you was there to, your smile, your touch, your endless kindness and eternal love. I woke from the dream a couple of times fast realizing you were gone so I went back to sleep to see you again and again until the sun blinded me and made me wake up. It's evening again and I thought of you more than I usually do all day, now I’m sipping some warm milk looking forward to a long, long sleep………

I wonder

I sat a few feet away from three men of the streets. They were talking about what their plans for the day were. One said he had no plans that he was going to just sit where he was and do some thinking. He said it was good to just think sometimes. The other said he may go to the beach. He would put on a pair of long pants as it was a bit cool. The others nodded in agreement. “Got any beer”? “Just two and I need them for myself” “Got any money”? “Check comes tomorrow” ‘let’s go collect cans for scrap money,” one said, and the others nodded in approval. ‘Might get enough for a six” they got up and slowly walked away. Wish I could have heard the conversation they continued to have as they went about their day. I wonder how many of their ideas really came to be?

Forest of imagination

Dylan sings in the distance as my mind carry’s me back to a happy time of growth and discovery I can still clearly see the parties and smell the smoke, sweet smoke that put me deeper into the music, into the times. Small blots of color that melted on my tongue changing the music, changing the everything…

An old dilapidated house next to the college ten, twelve seventeen people living there sharing everything, sharing each other not knowing or caring just doing, and Dylan sings in the distance.

Packing up when summer came around headed to the forest, pitched tents, lost the clothes, journeyed in the night to the next campfire sharing each other, sharing drugs and stories that became songs. Running through the meadows catching fire fly’s in jars and becoming one with them as the acid took its toll for hours to come.

Waking in the meadow staring into the starless sky wanting to see the darkness again but settling for a swim in the gorge the water so loud it seemed like it made the noise twice. Making the way back to our camp naked and dirty and happy…

Music flowed with the smoke each breath taken filled with song and that sweet smell of earth a reason to stay here as long as possible.

So many stories so many people so many searches for one’s self in this forest of imaginations and experimentations. I was a lad of seventeen and never again will be as free both in mind and body. I sometimes wonder if I left my soul there?

Frozen memories

Frozen memories of times when my skin was tight and morals loose.

Born a rebel lived the life paid the price.

Steel ponies too many to remember but loved each one.

Mountain roads the smell of burning oak and colored leaf’s blowing across my path.

Racing down dead man’s curve a smile bigger than Texas and tears pouring out of my eyes.

And oh, the women. Grabbing hearts all along the way a beauty in every port a wife here and there but always another just around the bend.

Settled now? Not really, I still take on the curves just a bit slower and the ladies are more of a challenge, so I go for the ones that remind me of the days all their skin fit. Sometimes I get lucky but wonder how to keep up with their young desires.

I know I was destined to be alone and I really do welcome that as I age. My memories are plentiful and will keep me in smiles until I am a memory.

Going through the motions, for now, it really is all that’s left that makes any sense.

Had a good ride though, matter of fact one hell of a ride and even though it is coming to an end I will always have the anticipation of the reward of forgiveness and a never-ending ride on the perfect road

Passing water

He sat on the curb his head in his hands. He appeared to be looking at the slow-moving stream of water moving down the street gutters. In the shelter of a doorway I smoked a cigarette and for some reason was fixated on this person of the streets. He didn’t move from his position but then where did he have to go?” At least out of the rain” I thought to myself. He lifted his head from within his hands and looked towards the heavens. Opening his mouth, he drank gods tears and smiled as if to say thank-you for the drink.

Here I was out of the downpour fearing I would ruin my expensive shoes and he wore none. At that moment, I realized just how blind I was to the human spirit and the sometimes “clouded” minds of those walking right next to us on every street in every city and town. I went into a store and bought a pair of sneakers that I gave to the man. He looked up and smiled for a moment then went back to looking at the passing water.

There was nothing left to do or be said it was just a “moment” and it made me feel like I had made a sort of “contact” with a mind that had long since been ignored and waved off. I hope the sneakers fit.