HATFM.

As I drove home late last night from the mountains, I saw you shining up there, almost full again…my heart became sore; and, I was in tears before long.

There’s nothing as awe-inspiring to the others on the road as the notice of a blubbering fellow driver, by the way. People become acutely interested in you suddenly when they fear that you are unable to see the freeway lanes through your tears.

I thought of Lionheart then, naturally…and his good fortune in love; I remember how you almost seemed to be “hooking him and me up” in the beginning of our friendships together, from so far away. Needless to say, that wasn’t the destiny laid out for us; but we have nurtured something special in terms of true friendship, instead.

I then recalled several conversations you and I had in the very short time that I was blessed by your presence in Life, as I have become blessed by its permanence in Death these days. I remember how much I admired your spirit and heart; you just seemed to ooze the very essence of all that is good and honorable in the world, and all that is true. I remember how you comforted me during a very, very low point in my Life’s painful pendulum – on a day when I was feeling especially alone and abandoned and hopeless. It was a holiday, a big one that you were celebrating with your lovely wife and family somewhere far from your place “high in the woods”. You made time to comfort me that day despite a bad weather day of traveling…you didn’t make a big out of it though; I hadn’t even known you were on the road because you had been so “present”. You always amazed me and left me with my mouth hanging open through your untouchable humanity, Il Lupo.

You were an amazing human being; I haven’t forgotten that, either; haven’t forgotten you for a single day. I think of Felicia often too, and wish I were in a position to drop in on her and just hug her once in a while. I do wonder how she gets on these days, without you. It hurts to know how robbed of so many things she was when you were killed. It hurts to know that she has suffered such a tragic loss in so many ways and must go on. I guess I hurt for her, mostly. I try not to think about your actual death and what it must have been like for you and your dog when you were hit and killed. I hope your suffering was short-lived.

Just know you live on in the hearts of so many of us, and always will, especially on a full moon.

 

Howling At The Fucking Moon, Marcus.

 

Remembrances.

Since the first night I spent asleep in his words,
the most moving words I’ve ever read or heard;

I fell fast asleep inside unfamiliar relief,
to the lullaby spun from the lungs of this beast;

I slept like a baby while he read softly to me,
he brought me safety from the Carnivorous Things;

He recognized the burdens heavily anchored to my name,
he easily lifted the tolling weight from my weary frame;

If he ever wonders, he will never wonder why,
he wiped countless tears from under my eyes;

Era il capo di uno degli ultimi branchi di lupi.
he was the very last of his kind, understandably;

All I want to reach for are his words as they float by,
as I swoon at the slice of moon that hangs inside his eyes;

Since the time that he first folded me – buckled at my knees,
his strokes were long – humming songs, growling protectively,

his poetry had the melody to make me forget that I am weak,
captivated by a scent, and took up the chase to hear him speak,
Giggled schoolgirl, sprinkled sparks of nice, clean jealousy…
that beast: he gave me nothing, left me holding so many things.

Vigil.

Canus Lupus.

Canus Lupus.

 

Because of the beautiful wish sent out to my Boo,
From the kind heart of a kind friend, now gone;
I sit next to the flame that I’ve kept lit for you,
In the moment, I am once again – overcome;
By the words and love left all across the Universe,
Imprinted by the quill of your bright signature;
Yours was a kindness one cannot rehearse;
A gentle, warm soul wrapped in a Grey Wolf’s fur.

As I sit in this passing rite’s flickering firelight,
I confess that your words swim around my heart and mind;
Though the language is different, the words are unchanged,
They speak lasting words of someone truthful and kind.
For the beautiful wishes that you chose to send out to my Boo,
Because she was weighing on your great big, human heart;
The most selfish wish that I must practically beg of you,
Would be to light the pathways for her through the dark.

Undertaken.

Undertaken.

The world feels so… much darker… so unjust…so flawed…
Everything feels very wrong; so unwarranted…so gone.
My mind grows again cynical…so angry…so unkind…
This place is robbed blind; barebones…the wrong time.
Disbandment…spread of wings…untie the strings – detach…
All that was intact; the neat and clean closeness…unpacked.

Out of everyone…answer me…the question…that burns…
Singes with pain and concern; so undeserving…of such fate, in turn.
I cannot lie…I curse…the stars…in the night sky…
I want to climb high; so far up there…to spit in God’s eye.
Undertaken…undoing…the strings tied…why?
There is no way to rectify; so empty…hard to recognize.

The laughter…lightness…adrift…towards the moon…
It’s all so unbelievable; so sudden…too soon.
The love is long…anchored…to the core…strong and steady.
My heart feels again heavy; so saddened…so unready.
Unaccepting…desperate plea…not possible…fucking tragedy…
The High Beast, My Friend Marcus, left his love and howls echoing.

Fuck It.

fuck it

Gone Again…

I just got the call that has been Déjà vu’d into my existence like some horror-esque Groundhog Day – my daughter has gone missing from the private hospital in which she has been recovery from her last disappearance; she has opted to leave once again by her own free will. And just like that, she’s gone into the unknown (and known to a terrifying degree) without a trace or a second thought about her own safety or livelihood.  She doesn’t understand the mathematics of her situation, the power of equation – probability and finite conclusions.

I am old enough to know that we are each going through life as a dollar bill in the pocket of a manic gambler in a casino, drink in hand; we will play anywhere from one to a bazillion times before we run out of luck and are gone to the masses of dollar bills inside the machine that was the swallower of the gambler hopes and dreams. I am able to recognize the fact that the odds are already stacked against this situation; and with the gambler carelessly spinning wheel of chance time and again, her odds are quickly thinning. I can see how the mathematics of probability declare the eventuality of her luck running out and the wheel stopping at a very unhappy ending.

I’ve told her this, I have explained that one day, she is going to hitch a ride with the WRONG man and she will lose the ability to decide when and how to come home again when she’s ready; I’ve told her that she is gambling with her very life when she impulsively disappears from sanity like this…she doesn’t care.

I knew it was just a matter of time before I received a call from yet another detective on a newly filed missing person’s case on my only child; and I know it’s just a matter of time before other horrible calls come at the rate my daughter is at with her self-worth in the world. It baffles me, truly…I don’t really do the praying thing but anyone out there who does please pray for my daughter’s safety in the days to come.

Damn it, these are the days when surviving is the most depressing thing that I’ve done for myself.