5/19/08

now i'm free to talk about
younger than Malcolm x i never knew
and all those things that bothered me
i forget
you're not here for me to tease and torment
i regret everything and nothing
you knew you were loved
and i remembered every birthday
and i ached when i was five and undertstood
that your world had denied you
for christ and vowed that you would
be as you were first in my heart
forgive me god thank god
this man made me and you made him
and i am still weeping for my loss
though not mother to him
still i adored him and cherished
him and reviled him and long
to always hear his voice
his hey baby

Even his Shadow

though he was a shadow of himself
he was warmth
though what spoke was only a portion
I felt how wide wide how vast he was
because I could still drink
from him and with him
we could still make merry without strain
we could walk together in his light and could
hear him smile and sometimes he would cry
and it wasn't yet goodbye
because even as he grasped at straws
there were logs even though
self was frayed the cloth still held
and what leaked out was more love

more love
o father!
love

Hats

On Foyle's war, I am suddenly struck by the sharp hat of the detective. So dapper. The kind of hat my father used to wear, when memories were made of him. A hat wearer. Even into the waning years for hate-wearing in the culture
he was always, capped, or hatted, or covered, be the occasion casual or formal, there was a hat to meet the level of formality or informality.

I think of him always consulting my mother on his dress, yet in his youth, his dapperness seemed such his own doing.

i saw them change across time, meld together, bond, I guess. The i guess is because at some point it stops it is frozen the mind summarizes the relationship as its culmination or maturity but I was a child and they argued passionately and he kissed her passionately and she would be angry at him and he would use his wiles, while when they aged he just cooed and comforted and stroked her and rubbed her feet, in public and ducked his head shyly and awww that love that love that love just painted everything gold and whole and happy and miss them with my whole being and i don't want to grieve so and tie them to this plane but neither do i not want to honor the greatness of my loss. i lost light and clarity in losing them. I lost balance and sanity. I lost safety. I lost Hope. I lost Albert
my dynamic duo, my ancestral pair, my parents, my creators, my friends