Dan's Bait & Tackle

Certainty

There’s only two things I hate in this world: people who are intolerant of other people’s cultures, and the Dutch.
~Nigel Powers

I admire your conviction, your passion, and your sincerity.
But what if everything you espouse is almost,
but not quite,
right?

Brother Jed,
campus minister,
was 100% certain in his beliefs. I got
him alone once. We had a normal,
civilized conversation devoid of hate and rhetoric. He told me that
college kids had heard a message of love and forgiveness
their entire lives. It worked for lots of them. But some,

he said,

some needed to be called
sinners, harlots, and worse.
Some needed to be shocked,
shamed, and stunned into
hearing The Good News.

Brother Jed’s lieutenants watched his
children play quietly
while students
picked Jed up, carried him
to the water’s edge,
and threw him in Mirror Lake.

Half the time I make Walt Whitman sound
modest. That’s no mean feat, but
it’s easily accomplished when you’re the
crowning glory of existence: the
capstone of the universe.

Then, something happens.
Or, nothing happens.

True genius– barely
constrained on vinyl,
released by a diamond
stylus– cannot
be denied.

I’m never been to
William Duffy’s farm,
and I’m not one for hammocks.
But the conclusion is the same.

Travellers:
weary but game,
wielding harsh words and
Tyson Fury if
you mess with us.

In response to the prompt at Rallentanda’s POW (Poetry On Wednesday).

Coffee Shop, Mid-day Wednesday

Fake stone hearth,
gas-log firebox,
pre-distressed leather chairs,
wooden posts and beams
that hold nothing up.
They hang in midair, questioning:
why am I here?

Static-cling window decals:
HOLD HANDS NOT GRUDGES.
LAUGH SO HARD YOU CRY.
DONATE BLOOD you have plenty.
sing out loud.

Solitary hipsters in skinny jeans and flat caps
tweeting Deep Thoughts on iPhones,
Realtors with sellers but no buyers
popping outside to talk on Blackberries, and
wives in yoga pants
complaining their nannies aren’t focused on the children.

I fit right in.

Silly Acrostic #1: Recovering Nicely, Thanks

Don’t
Really
Understand the concept of drinking but
Not getting
Knockered

Lauds-Prime-Terce

O Lord, open my lips.
And my mouth will proclaim your praise.

Some promises are too public to break.
I’d rather not go,
but my son is twelve, and
I must take him hunting.
The killers awake before dawn, and yes,
we put our boots on.
I double-tie Daniel’s laces, zip
his coat, and help him
force his uncooperative fingers
into gloves. Like two drunken
sailors, his wheels leave careening trails
across the frosted forest floor.

O God, come to my aid.
O Lord, make haste to help me.

Once, I quickened at the rush,
older and more human than language.
I’ve evolved, I practice, I see.

Dawn’s frost dissolves in morning rain.
We wait, wet and sleepy.
The morning is gray, the forest is brown, and
our vestments are blaze orange.

“You know why that side of the vee’s longer?
Cause there’re more geese on that side.”
“Dad! That’s stupid!”

Shots echo. They are not ours.

Fifty yards away,
a stone’s throw,
two deer cross the path.
My breath catches.
Daniel doesn’t see them.

Fill us with your kindness in the morning, O Lord.

Bless the Lord, all the earth,
praise and exalt him for ever.

Farewell, my friends. God go with you.

In manus tuas, Domine.

Love You, Too

After twenty years–
lots of worse, some better;
three kids, six dogs;
one gall bladder, three c-sections;
rehab, relapse, and rehab;
Four Seasons, Motel 6;
exactly half of our lives (thus far) together–
Sometimes the reply
is all that’s needed.

Posting a rough first go at this one.  It needs – and deserves – polishing.

What a Piece of Work is Man

Spina Bifida: L1.
Hydrocephalus: VP shunt.
Arnold Chiari Syndrome.
Neurogenic bowel and bladder: daily enema, straight cath q.i.d.
G-tube feedings.
OT. PT.
And on, and on, and on.
A real piece of work.

Weird prompt today…

The Lizard King Shares

“Hi, I’m Jim M, and I’m an alcoholic.  I’m the Lizard King.  I can do anything!”

Hi, Jim!

“I believe in a long, prolonged, derangement of the senses in order to obtain the unknown.”

Thanks, Jim!

“I think of myself as an intelligent, sensitive human being with the soul of a clown which always forces me to blow it at the most important moments.”

You’re in the right place, Jim!

“Drugs are a bet with your mind.”

Thanks for sharing, Jim!

“It’s like gambling somehow. You go out for a night of drinking and you don’t know where you’re going to end up the next day. It could work out good or it could be disastrous. It’s like the throw of the dice.”

OK, Jim, we’ve got other people who want to share…

“I mean if you can get a whole room full of drunk, stoned people to actually wake up and think, you’re doing something.”

We gotcha, Jim, now, moving on–

“The time to hesitate is through.”

Exactly, Jim. Now, please sit down.

“The most important kind of freedom is to be what you really are.”

And Jim, believe me, what you are right now is done. Sit down. Yes, just– careful! Janis, can you help Jim find a chair? Yes, good, right there. Thank you. Thanks, Jim. Keep coming back! Now, who’s next? Jimi?

Credit to Jim Morrison for the quotes.

What Do You Call A Group of Crows?

Fierce (men) who kill without flinching
reverberate with (a segment of the population).
Tendrils wind their way onto
buttons, bumper stickers, and t-shirts.
Viva la Emporium!
Your (icon) shot my Grandpa in the head.