Hardly Deserving

The holy word of my father
the word of my not-so holy father
dictated that there was truly
an eternity that I deserved
according to what I decided
to do and chose not to.

At every stopping point along the way
is now the afterlife of yesterday?

Not just me but everybody
each in a judicious manner
with justice in a blind trinity
of past and present and future
mixed up with chili peppers
then put in a pot with yeast.

When I was sixteen I dreamed
of being in bed with bodies
indistinct and faceless but
feeling like girls would
if girls felt like I figured
in my heaven on earth.

That next year I got sick
prodded and stuck by doctors
for nearly a year wasting away.
Everything was white while
they kept me in the dark
then I got better one day.

At every stopping point along the way
is now the afterlife of yesterday?

I got married and divorced
wondering which was which.
Was my reward being a dad
or being tossed into a ditch?
The word karma came and went
explaining everything and nothing.

The middle of my life was full
I am not going to give you a list
but every blue or yellow moon
my hand closed into fist
wanting like a real creep
to keep what I’d been given.

At every stopping point along the way
is now the afterlife of yesterday?

In better years and worse days
credit up and debit down
I tried hard to stay steady
one foot in front of the other
like my dad persistently said
you can’t reap if you don’t sow.

Time is a lie and life a rattlesnake
give me the poison I’ll spit out truth
the prayer of the romantic cynic
I greet having like not having
swallowing spinach with a shot
of bitters on my craving.

At every stopping point along the way
is now the afterlife of yesterday?

I walked a path toward
every morning my compass
to angelic music pulling me
out of the salty desert emptied
of desire for a place to be
where death is antidote.

I fell in love and saw the stars
gravitating around her heart.
My hand reached for a bauble
at the center of the earth and came out
charred and by her kiss cured.
This I was sure I deserved.

It was late almost too late
having misplaced reasonable hope
like a shirt torn and outworn
sun’s carelessness on my back
even when it happened it took
most of the pages out of my book.

Would I be here now with you
without a fair share of following through?
At every stopping point along the way
is now the afterlife of yesterday?

25 August 2016
wedgewood road

Advertisements

About mrsorenson

all over the place
This entry was posted in poem, poetry and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s