Sunshine Days and Foggy Nights

by James Kavanaugh

I was born to catch dragons in the their dens
And pick flowers
To tell tales and laugh away the morning
To drift and dream like a lazy stream
And walk barefoot across sunshine days.

I was born to find goblins in their caves
And chase moon light
To see shadows and seek hidden rivers
To hear the rain fall on dry leaves
And chat a bit with death across foggy nights.

I was born to rub my hands in dirt
And walk green hills
To plant corn and make bread
To build a house strong against the wind
And to live free across sunshine days.

I was born to watch owls in dark forests
And hear coyotes cry
To feel trees tremble and the grass sleep
To taste cold air and smell the damp earth
And watch ghostly shapes disappear across foggy nights.

I was born to love a woman wrapped in sunshine
And dressed in fog
To make a pact on high hill
Ratified centuries ago by the sun
To walk together through sunshine days and foggy nights.

Christmas Cheer

Ting, ting-a-ling
bells are a ringing
Stores are a bringing
all are a singing…

Singing of goodness
and joy so full
this marvelous time of the year.

Oh Christmas season
floods are senses
dowses our sense
of right
good
and just.

Cheer and compassion
salivate on queue
like dogs to
Pavlov’s ringing bell
just before the
frenzied feast.

Christ’s birthday clowns
ringing bells
blackened pots in hand
feeding the homeless
and hungry
forgotten all –
just moments
before.

We rush to sales
thrown in our eyes
grappling to regain
our sight
with gifts to buy
cards to send
tokens of our
deepest abiding love –
the sacrifice
nailed to the floor
by a horde of
stampeding feet.

Celebrate this joy
buy, buy, buy
just one more
gift is all it will
take to bail out
our callused hearts
from the cold dark
cells we lock
them in.

Where will be the bell ringers
on New Years day;
Will they ring as they stagger
through hangovers from
the previous night’s
fun and frolic?

Will they ring as a
New Year begins
while the homeless crawl
through their vomit
like every other fucking day –
waking from attempts to drown
the pain and torments
the days and nights before?

Oh magical Christmas
holiday season.
What a wondrous time
of the year.
Time to buy back our souls
our hearts
those we love
or pretend care for
with packages
gifts
and little change
in an
asinine
clown’s pot.

The Machine

Are we a machine trying to be human?
Or are we the human a machine is trying to be?

Cycles

Sitting here contemplating
cycles of time
of life
and
death.

We are born immortal
grow older, watch
those close to us
who gave birth to us
die and pass away.

Each day a part of
our immortality slips away
leaving a less certain mortal
behind as night closes
the day.

I watch a self
hang up the phone
as the words
soak into my chest
and settle
twisted
deep inside
my gut.

Mom has passed away
my sister said
she went peacefully
in her sleep

I don’t remember
what was said
after that.

A sleepless night
a different world
lit as the earth
fell beneath
a sun.

The philosopher
strangely quiet
no words of insight
no wisdom
just a hole
bleeding tears
from a half
beating heart

It was best
we said;
unable to speak
to eat
nourishment injected
insipid and tasteless
through a plastic
tube.

Lou Gehrig’s
does that you know
it eats you bit by bit
till nothing is left
nothing but,
your mind
your thoughts
Your screams to
a failing body which is
no longer yours.

It was best we say
but, it doesn’t feel
that way.