He sat on it hunched over,
hand wrapped around his mug,
his mug drooping,
or yapping,
usually unleashing laughter.
That stool right over there,
Sometimes next to you,
whichever one was vacant,
likely next to a friend.
At times they are empty,
before open,
after close,
but they are emptiest,
without him.
turning your head,
catching a glimpse,
double take,
discovering absence.
It is irregular,
without the norm,
so unusual,
he’s not around.
Unearth a Monday night delight,
inundated with splendorous sonance,
you’ll disappear into it,
and emerge
with renewed promise.
Recess from life’s stress,
letting loose
useless bits,
undressing from restraints of relentlessness,
this is what makes sense.
Feet to floor,
for dance,
for moves,
grooves so smooth
you’ll blossom and bloom.
Expanding mood’s
swift resurgence
into prominence,
uplifting spirits,
living life
full of experience.
We fight for those moments,
the ones where we feel accepted,
without exceptions,
we want those moments.
Catering to the whims of criticism
a chasm of dissatisfaction
powered by interactions
a fraction of our own attraction.
As we age and engage
slaves to brave and amaze
the incarnations of every day
we come closer to the way.
All of you
not too many
not too few
love so true
that’s how we do
letting go of those moments
that felt so momentous
toppling the precipice
everything we must confess
made us what we became
no less
All the light shifts on the table, the liquids tilt with a magnetic swing, the underlying aspects remain motionless and I careen off into a dream. My vision has gathered a spectral inspection, an analysis that my mind hasn’t understood, so I’m lost for interpretation of it, the awareness elusive of inputs. I hear my worrying voice, the one that once I’ve felt a new symptom calls out, but its not a thing at all, so I squelch the static to move on.
There is a stupefying nature to illness, nothing short of mental precipice breech, and as the teetering significance of reason balances out, the sickness of the movement is reached. This billowing and blowing in the sails has shifted my sometimes sturdied sea legs, but I’m not getting nausea from the directionless I’ve experienced, I’m just drifting in my mind swimming.
Here I am, diagnosed and determined, a death laid out in my wake, awakened to the idea and sorting this inconceivable prognosis, since I remain feeling unchanged. I’m as healthy as I’ve felt in forever, and fearless as can be, but denial it seems I’m shamed with, because I cannot back down from disagreeing. I’m strong and young, with years to crush in front of me, and I need to believe that I will continue on, because if I do not, what would become of me?
The logic is clear cut and straightforward, that a single solitary soul would cease to continue without the will to live, but the unwillingness to agree with the overbearing weight of the evidence that sits staring back at me is superbly stunning, the odds are not at all in my favor. I told my doctor “I must have hit the jackpot!” when he told me I had a second cancer, because what are the odds that I’d have two kinds? And that second cancer wasn’t an ordinary cancer either, it was something extremely rare, so of course I had it too.
In my colon, two tumors, both different cancers, and the likeliness that they will react to treatment aren’t at all good, so I have no business thinking I’ll get better, not the way they see it. I have it throughout my torso, it is spread through me like a light buttering on toast. Lymph nodes, lung, spleen, and even some on my abdominal wall, described in a single word, incurable.
What do you do with that? You swallow hard and try to digest it as good as you possibly can, right? But it gets stuck in your throat and you just want to puke, or maybe you can clear your throat to spit it out, but it has made it to that point of no return, so you have to let it wriggle around inside and work its way out.
I unfortunately cannot take a shit out of my ass to relieve myself of this burden, for one, I had about two feet of my colon removed and I shit out of a hole in my belly into a bag and secondly, this news doesn’t go away by getting flushed down the toilet unfortunately. The fact is, I have to live with this prognosis, or as the doctors see it, die with it. And yet, I let that hopeful energy infect me, because I feel healthy, and I just don’t want to let myself believe.
This is a conundrum, an elevated crack to stumble over and trip on, but this existential quagmire I’m in will work its way out at some point, even if it kills me. I mean, that’s really the worst thing that can happen to me, I could die, and I don’t fear death, since I won’t be alive to experience it, I won’t have anything to overcome in the absence of life. I have no memory of anything before I was born, no concept of prebirth, and no misconceptions about death, it is final.
Here I sit, an atheist through and through, a man who has contemplated death many a tiresome hour in life and now faced with it, with such immediacy, I dismiss its fateful hand and believe I can shrug its grip. What else should I do but spitefully sneer at it, cloaked in black, (the color I imagine cancer takes on inside of me) its frail skeletal stature is my nemesis, so I shun its very existence.
A blur of shapes occurring in peripheral vision,
the voices emerging from the conical devices
changing internalized perceptions,
constant landscapes slip past,
vehicles, rotations, on the roadway,
a breeze of vividness stirs consciousness,
imagery escapes radio waves,
a child’s face presses against a passing window,
unaware of the aired transmissions inches away,
the knob of the stereo is fixed,
the dial motionless,
the stories stream,
a bouquet of relentless recounts
the day’s relative news
from around the world,
still sitting,
parked in the driveway,
listening to public radio,
an arch of information,
magnetism, electricity,
organic compositions,
thought explorations,
metaphoric and literal
explosions,
moments of life,
lived.
I have an online store at Etsy.com, it is a place for you to browse and purchase my shirts and other products. Check there often for new products and buy products often:) http://www.etsy.com/people/LahTees?ref=si_pr
All the way,
past the shop windows,
staggering,
snagging glimpses
of interiors,
grazing on the
vast quantity of goods,
being a frugal consumer,
broadening understanding
of what the marketplace offers,
when an item is discovered,
which is worthy of purchase.
A particular product
connects and resonates
within the core of self,
it calls out
seductively
and beckons currency
to be relinquished
until it comes forth
willingly
an expenditure
an exchange
monetary units
for merchandise.
Welcome to Ed’s mind. In 2011 I have decided to update my blog and create a more organized and thorough database of my writing, videos, photos and designs. It is my intension to post writing here as often as possible and I encourage any comments, critiques and criticisms you may have. Thank you for stopping in to check out my all new site and I hope you stop back frequently to see what’s new. Also, you can like me on facebook here—>
-e-
