These are the thoughts of a Texas transplant in West Michigan who makes his living as a newspaper reporter by evening, and a struggling novelist by day.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

to the egotist


you make me sick. it's always about you, isn't it?
people are in pain and suffering, yet, somehow, it comes back to you.
no matter how it seems, you weedle your way inside, settle in,
then pontificate on your worldly ways and how it happened to you.
always you.

you know best because you've been there.
you know best because you're older than dirt
you kow best because you're you. nothing more.

you come in, grandiose, hat astride, to one side.
your pimps on. your swagger on.
look at me! look at me! i'm lovely aren't i?

news flash! stop the fuckin presses.
your ego is superceded only by your arrogance.
egotist, you make me sick.

shed not a tear for us? shed not a tear for him?
no, no, i'll shed nothing for you. you all make me sick.
you are puny insignificant pups.

you claimed, you claimed,
what lies.
it was all about you. we should have known.
he left and didn't know. what a trick to play on him.
now's not the time. was it ever?

so entangled in your ego, so wrapped up in your self,
so absorbed in your life, play a song for me, lean on me.

ah the ego, what a giant it is.
it fits not through the door.
for him it was such a diss,
he never wanted any more,
and what betrayal and at what cost?
for it was us who didn't play a host.

hide egotist, hide.
shame will reign down on you.
know it will.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

gratitude and farewell

i've been writing quite a bit of my dad. i guess he and the situation leading up to his death took up much of my thoughts and time, which included lots of time on here, too.

it's been a trying time afterwards. it's been 2 1/2 weeks since my dad died and it seems like an eternity. i sometimes think, 'it was this november, right? the same month we're in?' yep, it was this november and only a few short weeks ago. time sure does play funny tricks with your mind.

i've dreamnt of my dad once. last week he was in a dream and one of two things happened. either, i woke up from the dream (i don't remembermuch, except that he wasn't sick), and i thought, "ah, it's the first time i've dreamnt of dad since he died.' or it was a dream within a dream and i woke from one and said those same words in another dream. last night i dreamnt of a funeral, but it was of an uncle or someone old in my dad's family. it was not really about my dad, i think.

either way, i'd like to give thanks to people who really have helped me out through all of this, whether by calling, being there or thinking of us.

dawnie, you prepared me for the inevitable better than anyone by sharing your experiences about your dad. it made accepting much easier, even if the pain, hurt and loss was still big. you're a peach, dawnie. who would have thought that those early conversations way back when you talked about what you went through with your dad would come back and relive themselves later. life's funny, i guess. thank you love.

to the poker group, you guys rock. thanks so much for the basket. it was the only one and it stood out. i was quite surprised by the gracious gesture. you all are the greatest, krista, alan, mark, jason, jason, dan and corene. i smiled when i found out the basket was from you all.

mark thanks for always asking abuot my dad over the years. it meant a lot to me when you'd ask. you genuinely cared. thanks, man.

krista, you've let me talk about my dad and frustrations about the cancer after you've dropped me off and your car sat idling.

to abby and marla, you both called or listened to me rattle on and on about my dad's cancer. you both know very well, too well. for that, i owe you such gratitude. i don't think you'll ever know what the talks meant to me. or maybe you do. thanks for you talks. it's funny how with both of you we hadn't talked in several years and suddenly it's as if no time passed. phone conversations still last hours (sorry i do like to talk). thank you both for your insight into death and your experiences.

jess. my friend, you surprised me when you tapped me on the shoulder at the bereavement luncheon. i hoped you'd somehow be able to make it, but understood if you couldn't since houston isn't exactly around the corner from san diego. you are a true friend to make that trip for me and my family. hugs.

to rachel and david, rose and simon and mike, thanks for taking off after busy work days and driving out to the sticks to be with my family. i know rose was on a school trip earlier and rachel you get out of work late afternoon. and mikey i know you had special sections and it was tough to get out there, but you did.

b.j., you turned that car around and came back. i don't know what to say.

dr. g. you pressed me and pressed me to go down. you are another who knows all too well. thanks to you and madolyn.

and there were others who stopped by the rosary and funeral, like issabelle and joe. thanks. there are online folks like peg, sonia (way back to 12th grade), erin and brooke who i've known for seven years, who wrote small notes. thank you all.

bobby -- thanks for the ride, man. you saved our asses. we got there with plenty of time. you maneuvered the highways like nobody's business.

aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, what a coming together.

now it's time for a farewell of sorts. and this is hard.

dad, i will continue to write about you when the muse strikes me. i will continue to think of you and grieve for you, will continue to miss you and love you. but now i'm going to say farewell on here, as i did to you both as you lay dying, after you died and before the coffin was shut.

pops, you meant the world to me.

i think you are still nearby. you're always in my heart.

i will see you soon.
peace and love.