It's lunch somewhere right now. Or dinner. Or late lunch. Sunday lunch is always bigger. It's supper actually. We can't eat until the filet of soul thaws out. I put it right into the deep freeze yesterday as soon as I bought it, and promptly forgot it. Peg is dying. That's Bridge's & Danielle (& Len & Janine's) mom. She's dying naturally. They forego life support, which is painful for the family to watch, but a much gentler form of death. I was there to see her this morning, one last time before she dies. She looked really great, her color was good and she was not hooked up to machines, bloated and blotchy from a feeding tube and liquids. The priest was there yesterday and reminded them that what they are doing is illegal. Of course they then lied to the priest. Don't we all lie to priests? Of course I don't..I tell the truth and cry and what's up with that? (See my Fatima post..oh, I didn't write it yet.) Anyway, this morning I had a vision of Dan, B's father. He came to me at my desk this morning, early, as I dozed in and out writing. I saw him clear as day and heard him say he had to go take care of her now. He was young with a full head of hair. I woke with a start, remembering he is the one that's dead. Poor Peg.
When it's my time, I want a big needle full of whatever it took to put my big dog Bear to sleep. I nice fat syringe. One, two three...
You read it here.
For lunch I had a muffin that Mara made. Carot ginger. For dinner I will eventually have that lovely filet of soul. Italian style. Maybe we'll have a sweet potatoe with it. Although that doesn't go. Some fresh mozz... perhaps.
The weather is rainy, gloomy almost. Perfect for dying.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Saturday, April 26, 2008
Lunch today...
A good coffee, salad with mango, walnuts, goat cheese, salt lemon olive oil...a recent poem.
Divinity in the Form of Ministries
In the form of gifts
ministries
show themselves all weekend
a blue and white sky
An outpouring of friendship
An overlay of love a soft
ripe mango
Purple and white impatiens
Heads drooping dying for water
smacking their lips
then awake the next Morning.
Duties.
Scratching my face her paws
sharp touching my face
as I touch her soft fur she has no
reason to want to hurt me.
Sanguin she is.
I call pain "she" I call it "her"
She made me late today
she never showed up
I am late because I wait
for HER.
I can't see you
because she comes first.
I promised we'd spend the day together
but she's unpredictable
and I apologize greatly
needing to be flexible
(for her.
I stay in bed, underneath
the sky, staring up)
That's why I can't see you.
That's why
although it is a beauty
of a city
(I love you)
the blue and white sky
a gift
I cannot see you.
Although I would like to.
I think. I call him, break the rules
to call a boy. Praying
to do the right thing.
Eat someone elses dinner.
At 4am I take opiates,
I sit in the window looking out
I smoke
I pace
I pray.
Who can i share this city with
who will understand me
who can I trust. Besides you,
that is.
I dreamt of you
throwing the suitcase
on the bed
to take leave. I trust her;
I call pain "she".
although behind my back
I swear she is trying to kill me.
This mid of night
has become a friend
a place to pray as if
in a church.
The incense stinging my nose
my eyes
my sincere prayers come from deep within my bosom
comforted.
my breasts wakened
I think please. please
lord don't take them.
I think please, please lord let me feel
his hands upon them (yours) one last
time, full, soft,
womanly. I have always loved
them I remember
the first time
I felt them underneath my
Thin summer shirt
And they gave me
A shudder. Please lord,
one first time
before they're gone.
Should they go.
I meditate on please
one last time
one first time
before they are gone.
Before you are gone.
Before he ever gets a chance to touch them.
The ministry takes
Place on the side
Of a road.
In a white van.
Eyes closed he prays
The homeless man
Prays, head down,
feet together, Standing still.
Asking
nothing
for himself
but forgiveness.
A good coffee, salad with mango, walnuts, goat cheese, salt lemon olive oil...a recent poem.
Divinity in the Form of Ministries
In the form of gifts
ministries
show themselves all weekend
a blue and white sky
An outpouring of friendship
An overlay of love a soft
ripe mango
Purple and white impatiens
Heads drooping dying for water
smacking their lips
then awake the next Morning.
Duties.
Scratching my face her paws
sharp touching my face
as I touch her soft fur she has no
reason to want to hurt me.
Sanguin she is.
I call pain "she" I call it "her"
She made me late today
she never showed up
I am late because I wait
for HER.
I can't see you
because she comes first.
I promised we'd spend the day together
but she's unpredictable
and I apologize greatly
needing to be flexible
(for her.
I stay in bed, underneath
the sky, staring up)
That's why I can't see you.
That's why
although it is a beauty
of a city
(I love you)
the blue and white sky
a gift
I cannot see you.
Although I would like to.
I think. I call him, break the rules
to call a boy. Praying
to do the right thing.
Eat someone elses dinner.
At 4am I take opiates,
I sit in the window looking out
I smoke
I pace
I pray.
Who can i share this city with
who will understand me
who can I trust. Besides you,
that is.
I dreamt of you
throwing the suitcase
on the bed
to take leave. I trust her;
I call pain "she".
although behind my back
I swear she is trying to kill me.
This mid of night
has become a friend
a place to pray as if
in a church.
The incense stinging my nose
my eyes
my sincere prayers come from deep within my bosom
comforted.
my breasts wakened
I think please. please
lord don't take them.
I think please, please lord let me feel
his hands upon them (yours) one last
time, full, soft,
womanly. I have always loved
them I remember
the first time
I felt them underneath my
Thin summer shirt
And they gave me
A shudder. Please lord,
one first time
before they're gone.
Should they go.
I meditate on please
one last time
one first time
before they are gone.
Before you are gone.
Before he ever gets a chance to touch them.
The ministry takes
Place on the side
Of a road.
In a white van.
Eyes closed he prays
The homeless man
Prays, head down,
feet together, Standing still.
Asking
nothing
for himself
but forgiveness.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Why Lisa at Lunch
..Why would anyone want to read anything I write? And why especially at lunch? I have no idea, but I'm writing it anyway. At lunch. Today for lunch I had my favorite yogurt, Sunnyfield Farm's Whole Milk French Vanilla. It's creamy and really yummy and not that many calories, and if you add banana and mango to it, and a few raisins you have a great filling meal. It reminds me of the Woodstock Inn, in NY State, which is where I had it first. Or at least that's where it made it's first impression on me. It was my friend Bridget's Fiftieth birthday and a bunch of us were there. They served a lovely breakfast in the morning. The Woodstock Inn on the Millstream serves a beautiful breakfast and is a lovely little B&B nestled in Woodstock NY. http://www.woodstock-inn-ny.com/breakfast.html
Well it's not actually breakfast right now, and it's not lunch. It's dinner and I'm eating a couple of little slices of Amy's Rice Crust Pizza..it's gluten free. On the television behind me I hear the news blasting...all about the Bell Verdict. I have to stop typing and listen. More on that tomorrow..
I also need to rest. Tonight Bridget and I are going to Banjo Jim's to Lenny Kaye's Hootenanny...This from Tom Clarke's email:
"Whoa, what a night......a crazy-fun line-up of all our pals in one night....and it's gonna be old school hootenanny night, too! It's all happenin' at Banjo Jims (which used to be 9C, where me and Lenny and Phil would often play!) All of us doing sets, and all of us playing together. What a beautiful mess! Here's the line-up!
First off is Little Craiggy Chesler of the High Action Boys and Dreamboat, plonkin' that uke (amongst other things) and puttin' everyone in an unbelievably good mood, then our pal Kevn Kinney(Drivin n Cryin, Suntangled Angel Revival), one of my favorite songwriters of all time, pretty much!!! Thennnnnn, who else but Mr. Lenny Kaye ( record geek guru, fancy pants writer of great tomes, and rock star!) and then, if you can actually handle more, Me!!! Doing a rare solo thing, and also getting a little help from my friends!! By the end, it's gonna be like the Last Waltz....but we'll call it "The First Waltz"! Oh......it's free, too!!! xoxoxo Tom"
Friday April 25th
Craig 9:30-10:30
Kevn 10:30-11:30
Lenny 11:30-12:30
Tom 12:30-1:30
Everybody again 1:30-2:30am
Banjo Jim's, Corner of 9th St. and Ave. C
NYC
Now before i end this, realize that I will mostly post poetry, and anything else going on at lunch. I hope you check in. Otherwise I'm just eating alone.
Well it's not actually breakfast right now, and it's not lunch. It's dinner and I'm eating a couple of little slices of Amy's Rice Crust Pizza..it's gluten free. On the television behind me I hear the news blasting...all about the Bell Verdict. I have to stop typing and listen. More on that tomorrow..
I also need to rest. Tonight Bridget and I are going to Banjo Jim's to Lenny Kaye's Hootenanny...This from Tom Clarke's email:
"Whoa, what a night......a crazy-fun line-up of all our pals in one night....and it's gonna be old school hootenanny night, too! It's all happenin' at Banjo Jims (which used to be 9C, where me and Lenny and Phil would often play!) All of us doing sets, and all of us playing together. What a beautiful mess! Here's the line-up!
First off is Little Craiggy Chesler of the High Action Boys and Dreamboat, plonkin' that uke (amongst other things) and puttin' everyone in an unbelievably good mood, then our pal Kevn Kinney(Drivin n Cryin, Suntangled Angel Revival), one of my favorite songwriters of all time, pretty much!!! Thennnnnn, who else but Mr. Lenny Kaye ( record geek guru, fancy pants writer of great tomes, and rock star!) and then, if you can actually handle more, Me!!! Doing a rare solo thing, and also getting a little help from my friends!! By the end, it's gonna be like the Last Waltz....but we'll call it "The First Waltz"! Oh......it's free, too!!! xoxoxo Tom"
Friday April 25th
Craig 9:30-10:30
Kevn 10:30-11:30
Lenny 11:30-12:30
Tom 12:30-1:30
Everybody again 1:30-2:30am
Banjo Jim's, Corner of 9th St. and Ave. C
NYC
Now before i end this, realize that I will mostly post poetry, and anything else going on at lunch. I hope you check in. Otherwise I'm just eating alone.
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