Marinated Phrases

Marinated Phrases

(“But godliness with contentment is great gain.” 1 Timothy 6:6)

I am completely serious and
honest this time.
The pain clamps my jaws until
my teeth nearly bleed.
It grabs my neck, glues my skin to my
bones. It stops the best words from forming,
the best days from flowing,
and leaves me restless for hours at a time.
It is a cage-match with an inexhaustible foe.

So, you’ll understand how satisfaction
is a goal too far.

But then I hear a saxophone and trumpet riffing
in silvery smoke. Noon becomes a jazz club
for a moment’s distraction. I may pour a whiskey
or take a nap.

And then a crow squawks atop the pine in my
backyard, warning the other mystery fliers that
the chihuahua is nearby. Robins and stellar jays don’t
mind, but the crows are the guard dogs of the sky.

I still am curious and
promise this time to
listen for the lyrics in the birdsongs,
though the translation is spurious
and the electricity still scars my eyes
and hog-ties my mind. Sometimes

I just let the hours accelerate
with no other choice but to
pass the time.

(I cannot pull phrases out of thin air,
I will use the ones I marinated overnight.)

Pacing myself
I dream of events that never happened,
wishes that never were fulfilled,
loves beyond definitions,
and occasionally
the fault that lay at my feet from
craving the sweets in the tension between
 health and happiness.

Oddly, I can see my soul healthy in mental
landscapes inhabited by nothing but unleavened life.
Sadly, in my waking hours
I feel a fraud and wonder where the
truth is.

And another hour limps by.