What a day for a poem on being me! Today I am 37. I keep hearing Alice Cooper in my head "I'm 18, and I don't know what I want..." then the Beatles, then Cracker - the birthday songs of my life. My parents would play them, my friends would crank them up, and now it's me: singing them in my head, musing on those years, happy to be right here. Right now. This is the good stuff. You are the good stuff, you friends.
Here's one from a few weeks ago:
To Be Me
To be me is to be hearing snippets
to be hearing lines pass through
words forever unfolding
like ribbons rumpling
like kites with no tether
balloons with no hand clenched tightly
It is background
it is white noise
It is a parallel life
invisible by my side
I can turn and be silent
or I can grasp that kite
sprawl those words across paper
from my hand
to your heart
I can keep walking
watch that balloon
into the distance
lose that kite to the wind
Those words might have been
The Words
That line might have made
It All Clear
This circular universe
this unicycle of life
might never bring the same exact words
but there is nothing new
under
the
sun
BL
2.19.13
Mom comes to visit today, so, there will be tales to tell. You know it.
Cheers!
Belated Happy Birthday to you Bethany. I look forward to reading about the tales with Mother! happy weekend to you.
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