April 14 by The Running Son
You all head to bed, bed-headed, head-boarded up
in dreams. I’m heady and bored. It seems
like I’m stuck in an eddy, a gorge. I look up, I lean,
I squint. The clouds are grey, like lint.
The devil’s motives are ulterior. God in the mirror?
Then wipe it. You might see a little clearer, back-lit.
Whiteout, because these clouds and fog will be here
so follow the leader, higher powers nailed to cedar,
or atop a rock like Peter, lobbing pebbles and taunting cops
to see what shot they got.
poems by Jim Aldrich
It’s been a weekend for the books. I’ve surprised myself in more than one way. A gut-wrenching argument with an old and dear friend, that I reacted to a little better than I thought I would. Also an act of cruelty by me and boundaries crossed. You can read both accounts.
On the other hand, The joshua trees are blooming, the spring weather is perfect and I had an awesome friday night at the local high desert watering hole, the Joshua Tree Saloon. I don’t drink much, but I talk. Then, these two poems, plus 4 or so more snippets. It was part of an interactive “tag-poetry” post on the aopinionatedman blog. I wasn’t intending to join in, but the muse hit.
It was the most fun I’ve had blogging since I began in February. His blog is buzzing with activity and this poetry idea is genius. Peak in.. he’s got a lot going on. These poems were in a different context there… I cleaned them up and named them. Visit the post here: Add a Line Poem
I’m glad the weekend is wrapping up. I am exhausted. I’m no poet, and I’m also no bastard, but I’m grateful to live another day for the chance to completely !!@#*!@& it up.
cheers, Jim 😉