Monthly Archives: October 2015

Ring of Fire(s)

Love is a burning thing
And it makes a fiery ring.
Bound by wild desire
I fell into a ring of fire.

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Fresh Starts

1000 miles away
Never thought or expected to find myself in the places or positions I have been in. Never thought I’d be the guy in the handcuffs or the one who was thrown through a plate glass window.

A thousand years ago, in a land a million miles from here I would have been pretty pleased to say that I didn’t just get up afterwards. I brushed off the glass and walked through the hold I had created and took care of the guy that had done it.

Not sure who was more surprised, him or me.

Actually, I do know the answer to that question.

He was, at least in that particular moment in time because he never expected I’d be willing or capable of doing what I did. But that’s the thing about me, I am not good at giving up or lying down to take a beating.

I am always the one who wades into the middle of the storm for no other reason than because I can.

You can blame me for many things, blame me for putting myself in positions I shouldn’t be in or doing things I shouldn’t do. I won’t fight you on that account, won’t fight you for saying that sometimes I have been my own worst enemy because it is true.

But I have always been my greatest hero because I had to be that. Had to be my best advocate because no one else would do it or the few that tried didn’t earn my trust.

Long ago I built the walls that cover my heart and ward my soul and they have rarely been breached. Now I tend to the gardens that surround them and go about my business.

Once I was told I was a fool for being like this. Once I was told I should open up and take a chance and I did.

For a long while it was better than expected and stronger than I could have anticipated. And then it was over.

It left a deep channel in its passing, like the tail of a meteor flying across the sky it came and went. Bright and shiny, filled with warmth and then nothing but a faded memory.

For a while I chased it and wandered over hill and dale in search of signs that would lead me back to it but somewhere along the way as the trail grew cold I felt the ice move inwards and decided there was no point in fighting that.

Somewhere between the moment I went through the window and the one in which I came back I recognized the old familiar sting and realized I still feel things and then I swept it away.

Didn’t want or need the distraction and I did what I do best…wreaked havoc and unleashed a bit of destruction upon a person and a place.

The cuffs came later and so did a few other less than pleasant things but I got back up. Got back up and did what I needed to do and that was how it went.

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Resistance Sundays and Stuff

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Life Changing

Can one kiss change a life?

Can it be a defining moment that makes a difference?

Could it or would it be the push that sends the immovable object in a different direction.

There had been a time when he would have said absolutely not and then life happened and it made him wonder if he should rethink it.

Not because he required an answer but because he found it interesting and saw how it might stimulate all sorts of other interesting thoughts.

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Maybe A Jim Croce Song

He took out his guitar, strummed it once or twice and started and stopped his way through a couple of songs.

After the dog came, left and returned to the room he put down the guitar and asked his furry friend if they could talk.

“You get credit for being the best listener. You don’t wait for me to take a breath so that you can tell me what you think I should say or do and you don’t stare at your phone and make me wonder if you are listening.

There is value in that. There is merit in that. There is hope in that. Too bad the hope comes from a dog, but you are man’s best friend now aren’t you.”

He stopped speaking and waited to see if the dog would respond but he never did.

“You know it would be ok for you to say something. I wouldn’t mind. You have spent all sorts of time listening to me, I would listen to you. But I am not sure I could take your complaints seriously because you live the kind of life we should all live.”

That was followed by another pause and more silence.

“Hell, you aren’t going to answer are you and I am not much in the mood to say what I want to say to the people who need to hear it. We make quite the companions now don’t we. I don’t know how to describe it all, but I suppose if I did I would say it could be something like “Maybe a Jim Croce Song.”

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