post bliss

is there not a single moment of joy not cut by the bitterness
a sour milk taste of fear that lingers as an aftertaste
you were here, then gone,
giddy to come, giddy to go,
and I was some inbetween place, some stopping point
along your life,
the happiest year of your life.
it will be a year soon. two months from now.
a year
did i change so much?
I've never eaten so much bacon, drank so much beer.
But I've felt this alone, many times.
I've felt this abandonned.
Why did I not learn in all those years to stand
on my own two feet.
Or maybe I did
and my natural state is just
despondent and self-pitying,
sad and longing.
I can't remember a 24 hour stretch in the
365 days in which I was happy nonstop.
But there are those that are sad.
It must be some kind of gravitational pull that draws me
in.

don't let go of your idealism, shams
because otherwise,
it's all downhill from here.

the last autumn roses are so red
they are brown
petals dry at the ends,
waiting for winter to claim them,
or a merciful soul to cut them
and let them fall in place.
so i worry, so i worry.
everything has its season.
everything.
the best plants have deep roots
that are trained by necessity to
siphon the smallest drops
from the soil.
drought, after drought, and
they do not die but
become stronger.
not this, not us,
not eden.

disordered mind

my mind is a mess, shams, and I know
that sometimes one needs to
not be in one's mind.
I blame many things, many things,
this rage welling, this spleen expanding,
this bile, this angry saliva.
everyone fails me again,
always again.
friends are too busy with their own
little children, their own little
preoccupations.
friends are too addicted to
their own addictions.
and friends just forget me.
either that, or they avoid me.
paranoia being a symptom of the
delusions, an inability to
just see a sting as a passing irritation,
and instead having a full blown
allergic meltdown.
i hate everyone.
my cat is perfect.

I am as my servant

I will be to you, so you will be to me
milder, kinder, gentler.
In my power, so your power,
and if I am rushed
and if I am without,
then that is how I am.
But let me be better than I am.
Let me be this.

***
note from the author -- I was very inspired by a line I heard today. I think it is from the Koran or possibly from the collected sayings of Mohammad. It said "I am as my servant thinks I am." It is meant to apply to Allah. If you think Allah good and kind, so he will be with you. If you think him vengeful, so he will be with you.

However, I understood more in the realm of human interaction, that the opinion of the "lowest" person one deals with, one's servant, is the true revelation of one's character. If others think me unkind, then I am unkind. I am not entirely sure if I believe that, in the Platonic sense that one must be measured against universals, not public opinion. However, in terms of encouraging people to be good to one another...

No doubt, this idea will continue for several days. I was interrupted while writing this poem.

cat

creature and friend,
when you jump like that,
my heart halts and hangs
in the air as your acrobatic
endeavors send you
twisting but not quite to your feet
and you sit up and lick a paw,
as if you meant to fall.
graceless, cat, you are so
graceless, but clever with words
and good at trouble.

good to know i did not die
yesterday
good to know i'm here
because there's sun
and i wonder what
infection is in my head
that leaks through every
step I take as I
run slowly, slowly
past Christmas decor.
Accursed time moves too fast.