#paulcurrie

my granny turned 92 today and I’m in a distant place not able to be near though she would not recognize me but perhaps show a flicker of emotional residue and lift her mouth in a smile, fragile

and it’s only ego that seeks her recognition though oft she didn’t name me proper despite being able: my only sly hope was that keith or edward might get called paul on occasion

to look upon her, of course there’s love more love than words could offer to describe the drives through jacaranda-ed streets or swimming lessons that leave me a floating legend or family dinners of roast chicken and potatoes or her birthdays – where she gave the gifts! or her love with grampa to set the best example or the adventures to inspire my own like the hikes, drives and outdoors which form my inheritance

now I see her in her chair wrinkles adorn and frizzy hair to make image complete of a grinning witch a trifle dilapidated but spirited beneath

I chanced upon her old car, older than me and looking less well with panel cracks and sunbleached roof yet it still goes

of all the godly possessions

we are taught to worship

I claim many for comfort

though would not mourn their passing

so long as my friends

might share this chosen poverty

“what’s the worst that can happen?”

the question solves my panic.

as long as it does not transpire,

i'm succeeding in my endeavor

and while I refuse to lose the prized possession

of my own life, I will protect it

only insofar as it can remain

a life

bliss sets you free

and radiates through your green companions

pores wide for moisture,

gulping waves of radiated love

you are sunshine made solid

sunshine in motion

sunshine given scent

and sunshine formed life

with chin-trickling juices

made sweeter by routine celestial attention

though you’ll only realize it

when night hides your lover

and blissful warmth

departs your veins

yet with dawn’s rays

you cannot recall

the tragedy of your lust:

that your tendrils will forever stretch

but the sun will sail past,

untouched and undeterred

for while the sun’s a fiery lover

it claims no singular attachment

we float in mid air – suspended in place – dismiss time for a while and just hang together – examine ourselves – my body and i. our circumstances changed so quickly – from riding along, racing gliding egrets on our path, to flying into their realm – a rock meets spokes and the rush is ended. I leave my metal steed and barely ready myself for the ground – the infinitesimal instant stretches eternal.

paint splashes the canvas

swirling and dancing as clothes on a line

blown by wind off the ocean

that sweeps through your hair

and batters cars and scooters

carrying boys whose eyes caress your shoulders

that shrug under weight of backpacked books

whose words tell of strange concepts

to understand the rhythms of nature

which you profess to like

yet leave in the background to your shorthand sentiments

which you pray will gain fame in the realm of unreality

which occupies your dreams

replacing the puddle-hopping, mountain-hiking, warm embrace of he

who departed your rectangular frame

to find himself unchained yet without company

because eyes do not see him,

distracted by bright lights and catchy tunes

which gain global audience through a web

which holds us together yet neatly apart

to helplessly lament

that the world gets lost