'23 too many positives
out of the woods and into the thick because mama, it's Jupiter o'clock
aka my ruling planet aka big daddy benefic aka here we go and just in time…
poem
Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedWhen I almost got away with it.
When it beat me up, down the barrel
for weeks. Roughed me.
When i’m coming out of the woods.
When i’m in the clear.
But. You showed me indeed
the tough-going sent who going.
1. When… . . … I don’t think you like me very much at all.
2. When you used to be funny. Now your air’s grievance.
3. When you forgot the sugar for the pie.
(The risk you run,
baking without tasting.)
4. When the Department is looking into energy opportunities
within shooting distance of the smoking, dead hospital.
When I found friendly eyes
Surprise, between the boulders and the skulls.
I would have passed by, despite the roses
I so prize. Though your portrait hangs
in my house. For years I passed, loving the color.
Not recognizing you.
But you recognized me. Love is real.
The thing i’m here
to learn—my body—is
enough is enough. I am
riches aplenty before the burning obscene.
When you thought you were the terror.
When that makes me laugh,
because you have Never. Seen. Me.
When it’s enough of you;
your time is lean.
when, it's a wrap for you.
when, hell is hot!!!
[archival] for the curious, these diary entries (and jukebox time capsules) from the same time period in past years:
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jukebox:
diary
hi folks. every day, like so many of us, I cry. my brain is a glittering disco ball of overwhelm. And I love disco, but this ain’t fun disco. this is terrifying AI-generated wrong disco. Actual soulless disco. (versus the very soulful real-life disco that boring white men from the past loved to look down on because, among other things, they have no rhythm and are impoverished of spirit.)
So, I sob. I share news with my communities and amplify Palestinian voices (often here and here), light my pen on fire to light up the corrupt, the cowards, the cruel in poetry and prose; I go around the horn calling my elected officials. I boycott and vote with my wallet. I heed my soul’s call to be in communion. I read. I continue to bear witness to the suffering and inhumanity visited on Gaza and the West Bank and I pray for it to stop. I pray for permanent ceasefire. I pray for Palestine and Palestinians to be truly free.
The most moral dimension of our lives is what we do with power.
—Michael Hobbes
I hope that amid your tears you find succor and flourishing. And courage. Have courage, beloved. Cynicism and indifference are forms of obedience.1
Love to you, always.
Love to my Palestinian brothers and sisters forever—may you be liberated and luxuriated in care, relief, warmth, joy, ease. May all weapons formed against you fail and vanish to cinders. Thank you for you. Bless you. Bless you for all that you have given us, the light of love shining on the world.
So said Cornelius Eady. ↩