...Red Bird In Flight

simplicity

the flowing grains of expired years etched on this oak desk

remind me of red bird words on a sunny January day long ago,

telling of my need for simplicity.

as changes mount up month after month,

her melody still chimes my inner ear.

and though my dear cardinal no longer sings in her roost,

know that I’ve heard your glorious song...

and am blessed by its meaning

living with calm wind under wing

and harmony in my once fluttered heart.

-Jason-

August 22, 2012

"Thank you Kelly"

...All Life Everywhere is Analog

Cherry Blossom

  

What remains in life

but helium hearted grand grafted smiles

and red rippling I love You’s 

when our eyes close.

-Jason (July 25^th)

...As Grateful Days Abound

Calm Reveal

Sometimes we face obstacles in our lives,

that, based on choices made, leave either

lasting integrity or permanent shadows

on the tongues of those who forever hear our name.

Such events have touched my doorstep

many a time. Some leaving as fast as they came,

others imbedding far too long in order to redefine

the person I should’ve been, when wrong choices were made.

Today is not that day, though. Because I’ve cast both reel and lure

into the water; abating the need to fish for answers. And now

tranquilly sit at the shoreline ingesting the rippling waves

and fret not of why my feet got wet in the past.

This moment, with cool water under fingertip,

a zenith of self-aware revelations that

I calmly inhale into my heart, rinses away

the old moments of scorn and sadness.

-Jason-
April 19th 2012

...Springtime in the Apocalypse

Oak

Cold Winter:

a burden upon scaled limbs,

building up emotionless snow

gravitating from fingertip to toe.

these things,

forever accumulate

in the harsh winds.

Hot Summer:

bask in warm rays of hope,

quenched by cool rains;

relaxed until those arrive

with dull axe in hand.

majestic Oak,

missing the Winter;

reminding us we were alive

and strong.

-Jason-

March 15, 2012

"... Sad Goodbyes"

December 21^st, 2011



Dearest Kelly

Another hurtful lie

I thought,

when first told that you passed away.
My denial,

an instant barrier to

an emotional year winding down.

But second time told,

I knew it to be true…

You were gone
                and I sobbed like a child.

Now
despondently,

I remain

burdened by so many things

not said to you in person…

along with a grief-laden Goodbye.

Tears now flow on typing hands,
As I pensively pray you hear my sorrowed voice;
these long-ago feelings

I wish you knew

while you were here:

Thank you for coming into my life when you did.

Thank you for listening time after time to my frequent and often pathetic

                        miseries; always offering judgment-free

advice and boosting my self-confidence.

Thank you for your ever-prudent support;

once telling me that devotion can’t be persuasively obtained

                        if you have to blindly jump alone into the deep end
                        of an empty pool,

just to get it.

Thank you for finally showing me the value of trust and respect;

                        as you became roses on a dreary day,

smiles upon despair,

and logic to the blind.

Thank you for letting me make my own mistakes, but comforting me

                        at my low points; telling me that love is a balance

of confidence and insecurity,

and it should always be offered...

even when it isn’t reciprocated.

And for all things said and unsaid,

I thank you.

And although I didn’t get to say Goodbye
before you left,
please know that

you were my friend,

you were loved by so many

and you shall be painfully missed.

And until next we meet,
I shall look forward to gleefully saying again,

Hey Red, how’ve you been?

and we’ll catch up on all you’ve helped me
poignantly realize…

throughout the rest

of my life.

Kelly Marie Pritchard
March 26, 1984 - Dec 15, 2011

"...from months to years"

Mirror Lost

reminds me

everyday

sunrise and set,

how? I ask

I lost you,

inside gold

flake mirror

too heavy

a view

to absorb.

I lost you

I hear

as old smiles

make weathered

hearts cry.

Goodbye

Lost one,

Goodbye

Love.

Jason

Aug 9, 2011

“Happy Birthday to Me”

Riverbed

pewter spoon worn edge to edge;

        my reasoning as of these days.

glance up

small hand just after four

                apparently, I am a peach

when it comes to you,

bruises appearing from

               the slightest weighed

               words your mouth drops

leaving me lackluster

and

tarnished.

Jason

July 2, 2011

"...Vision Clearing"

Roseworthy

bamboo ceiling fans Overhead the

elaborately etched elephant Ivory scrimshaw,

as patterned people cluster in tumbling grasses

outside the wet Redwood fenceline,

laying on berms of brown tipped 

South African bamboo shoots.

And like the conquest of the morning dew

on desiccated leaves,

she has sunrise sheer beauty;

and

she is Roseworthy in my eyes.

-Jason-

June 1, 2011

jar of dried jelly

raw berry blue luster

tarnished copper plate patina

ever oxidizing,

      sun and air

Stratford to Hollywood,

Woolworth and Woodward.

stuck to glass like a deserted

dime-store dead goldfish,

dried jelly

always tasting

Bitter

always dehydrated

to my parched…    but

singed

palette.

-Jason-

June 7, 2011

"For Kelly..."

Fly, Red Bird Fly

Wonderfully red,

crimson plumed cardinal…

I watch in awe as you

build your thatch bound nest

among

thistles and thorns,

always the thistles and thorns.

Impenetrably hidden for protection,

but too deep to be admired

by the warming Sun,

you fossilize.

Until one day

no longer fearing the World,

you muster courage

to fly away…

never looking down

at the thistles and thorns,

always the thistles and thorns,

you leave

behind.

 

To All:

I am beside myself with grief to say that this poem is dedicated to my friend, Kelly Pritchard, who was sadly diagnosed earlier this month with a rare form of ovarian cancer. For those who know her (and even those that don’t), please keep her and her family in your thoughts and prayers.

Thank you.

Jason

"Zen Denied"

Translucent Misogyny

It bears repeating…

Softly though,

            with little intonation of anger

            and a quarter of

The cadence,

you normally spew…

and I cringe.

The inflection vibrates paper-thin

vascular walls

            I’ve managed to retain upright,

in my adolescent heart

but one

Transfixed to a 37 year old man’s

            Sense of reason.

Was it love

to let me

live life alone

each night to

fight for my own

Sense of worth

in a world that

had little need

for a teenage

bleeding heart?

And was it necessity,

to fill my head

with hopes

            of a woman loving

            Me

Without having

to absorb abuse,

in order

to feel…

Appreciation,

Importance,

Gratitude,

Devotion,

Blue attitudes and

            Red Love.

And still,

it bears

Repeating…

Thank you.

Thank you,

Mother.

(March 14, 2011)

"A Real Shitter!"