Cup of Kindness – 2015

This so closely mirrors my own experiences this year that I feel it would be redundant to compose a similar post–though perhaps I should anyway.

kanzen sakura

And so we come to the end of another year. This has been a year of tremendous changes. In spite of so many hard things, there have been many good things.  In March, I lost my job due to ageism and racism. Ugly combination, hey? And as time has progressed, my mother has become more fragile in her health and after rescuing her from a bad situation in Florida and taking her to live with her youngest sister in Tennessee, she just seemed to just step off the edge of the cliff. Health folks often call it that. She is now in and out of reality. Dementia is a demon from which there is no escape. I call her daily. The other day she asked me where my father was and why he hadn’t been to visit. I gently told her he died 30 years ago. She didn’t remember. This…

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Sonnet VII: Perfection

In moments, lived we our own genesis.
In dreams we wake into our own domain.
It is as though our burden to abstain
From one another no abstention is.

And though it may be years between each kiss,
Each kiss is thus more perfect porcelain,
Pristine in all its power to sustain
Me and propel me further into bliss.

It is as though mere seconds passed between
These honey-sweet perfections that we share.
For after each, my passion, love, and mien
Are stronger still and are more deep and rare.

If ever God had made a thing so fine;
It must be thee, this perfect love of mine.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

Sonnet VI: Misdeeds

Now, here, I see the error of my ways;
For long I’ve contemplated–laying blame
On all events long past–my fear, my shame.
And still, mine own inaction now betrays

This dagger of deceit on which I gaze.
Though masking cowardice with pride, I came
To this unseemly state–my heart aflame
With thee–replete with thine own sickly praise.

But how was I to know: no fate was worse
Than live a tragic life bereft of thee?
How could there more malevolent a curse
Than rob us of our only destiny?

Did we do right by running then, or did
We simply kill the dream for which we hid?

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all:

Sonnet V: The Moment

Beware; for an I hold the close again,
I shan’t be so inclined to let thee go.
The joy’s so great in finding thee; and so
This pain of parting doth not kindly wane.

When last I held thee, scarce could I contain
This joy in thee, and painful afterglow
Whose sting I could not, nor would I, forego;
Nor, fearing this, would I, my love restrain.

I die a thousand deaths when thou art gone.
Yet never would I sacrifice this time
When I am once again alive in thee.
I live a thousand lives, sweet paragon,
In every second’s sweet eternity,
In every moment’s perfect paradigm.

This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all: