Michael's Fáilte

Welcome to these writing warmups, blatherings, rantings, meditations, perorations, salutations, latest and those on time, those narrative, declarative, interrogative, gollywogative and other outdated, belated, simulated musings, perusings, shavings and other close calls, with no disrespect intended, that's why no real names included whenever impossible to avoid the guilt that came in the crib for uttering something that would hurt or injure those in authority, being of everlasting servitude to all and sundry, having chosen the road not taken and the frost on the pumpkin long before the kettle turned black or the cat found its own tail fascinating,
Your humble servant, etc.

The island writes in fire and steam each morning on the pages of the sea

The island writes in fire and steam each morning on the pages of the sea
Lava Meets Ocean. Lynx, Starboard Side. Day 2.Early Morning, July 8 2006, Looking for Flashes off Chain of Craters, Big Island

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

BLUE AGAIN LIKE MORNING

BLUE AGAIN LIKE MORNING
for Slyde

Blue again like morning
but never mind—breath is my friend
though I’ve neglected her these months
while the doctors looked for my throat

Give me my horn I’ll take it up
and summon up that long sigh
the one I gave the first time ever I saw
you walk across a room

Voices in that place still fight
to be heard face against face
plenty wine tequila cocaine
give me that blue again

If we had pain then we never knew
how long it would take to reach
the high notes without each other
breath is my friend, sister and brother

Days pass kids are born
their kids—news torn up
thrown in the fire in LA
or on the road

Give me my horn again
I hear that riff on the piano
I see your smile from the door
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