Lagumbay.com Reflections on Love, Rage, and Fear

We have War and Famine on speed dial
and occasionally exchange “wish you were here” e-mails
like old friends rarely gathered in one place these days.
We catch up with each other by watching Anderson Cooper
visit a town shortly after one or two of us have arrived.
This week, we’re stuck at home, quarantined
with some tamiflu and well-wishes by wire
far far far away from being who we are –
Plague and Pestilence should have been out
dancing the night away, doing our best impression
of politicians by shaking hands and kissing babies,
sharing God’s creation with the rest of God’s creation –
so what if this creation is named H1N1?
Let him cast this demonic possession back to the swine
’cause we’re getting better, we’re feeling fine
and life will go on until we are forgotten once more
and we’re in somebody else’s documentary special.
For now it’s Plague, Pestilence, and their cats
staring out the window at a fearful world –
the scythe too heavy to lift,
the weather too warm to bear,
and just considerate enough not to be ourselves.

Fred, my pet piranha, hates you –
He’s making grumpy faces every time you walk by
and it’s too bad because I think you’ve been a pretty good friend
and I don’t want you to die.

You’d think he’s mostly harmless being stuck in that tank
but you would be wrong
’cause Fred’s been taking classes and he’s very convincing
and you’ll dip your head in the water before long.

He’ll ask you to come over, even bribe you with cookies
and you won’t have a choice but to go
His mom was in marketing, his dad practiced law
and he won best-of-breed at a dog show.

Fred, my pet piranha, hates you –
and very much would like to eat you alive
so I guess it’s best that we just say goodbye
’cause Fred and I are going swimming at five.

These random thoughts conspire
too fleeting, too drawn to shiny objects
like a child who wants to talk –
this one’s about fire, now ghosts, now souls,
now human nature, how aging Christians
will be fed to lions under Obamacare,
now ghosts again — these memories I plead with,
thoughts that zoom past like the metrolink
loud, powerful thoughts with flashing red lights
and bells in the background as I wait patiently –
foot on the brake, mildly entertained, mildly frightened.
Then just when I thought I’ve caught a metaphor,
it pauses, spins mockingly and fades into reality

Once more on the brink of the unknown I stand afraid,
content to watch eternity from a stationary moment
clinging to the warmth of here and now,
helplessly slipping into the darkness of tomorrow

Sometimes the silence finds me here
Sometimes I find the peace I seek
Sometimes my youth comes home to rest
Sometimes the fairy tales return

Once more on the brink of the unknown I stand afraid,
a complacent warrior frozen by uncertainty
unable to accept what lies beyond his failing grasp
with the hope of a promise unfulfilled

Sometimes lost laughter beckons me
Sometimes I remember innocence
Sometimes a joy reveals my heart
Sometimes the man is not as broken as he thinks

Born knowing death walks behind me
Knowing he can run faster than I could.
I know he toys with me once in a while
Tapping my shoulder with a car accident
Or a painful illness for fun.

I know he’s behimd me making faces and
Deciding if he would catch up or not.
Knowing he has to do so someday.
Probably deciding what to do with me
When he catches up…maybe something new!

Don’t know who he is.  Maybe a stranger,
A friend, perhaps family, or maybe a
Machine, or a drug I’m allergic to.
He could be my shadow, or the one
I fear the most…he could be me.