Sparrow in Saturn R̶e̶t̶u̶r̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ Reborn

Soar now on the wind

 

Never give up, Buttercup

Because you know
You’ll always arrive in style

 

It's okay to sit still, sweet Daffodil 

To take a moment of silence

Just don’t let the fears buzz in your ears

When your own inner power overwhelms you

 

Go back to the page
Maybe, stop hovering in doorways

Hoping the faeries will mistake you

(For one of their own)

 

Get high, Honey-bee

Take flight and let the currents guide you

Alight on the air with nary a care

Because you know exactly who you are

 

And if the most that can ever be said

Is that you sprouted wings and fled

Then let it be said! 

Don’t let the stories they tell of you define you

 

Fly now, little Bird

And let not your worries deprive you

by the back door 

my Tío tells me 

 

And I understand

 

he says, 

leaning against the open metal grate 

 

The door-frame becomes the inbetween 

Between here and there

 

I don’t tell him about the portal to Faerie
under the wash-line and how I keep loosing clothes pins

 

Instead,

I tell him 

and I know he understands

 

Even though he has been getting lost

somewhere between taking flight 

and making plans

 

He knows I've dedicated my life 

to pure adventure for a long time

I am someplace always 

Inbetween

  

Time is currency 

That I invest in experience 

 

And I have little to spare 

and too much to die for

 

Giving meaning to the passage of years

Those magical numbers:

2019, 2012, 1999…

The Autumn of 2011 

seems like a lifetime ago
Tramping the streets of New Orleans 

 

Decades now 

of standing in open doorways

 

Of planting port-keys 

among the memories 

The accumulation of possessions 

and possessions 

and possessions

As if by some means to anchor myself

to some moment in time and space

  

Flipping through the bookcase of memory 

Like Matthew McConaughey

On the interstellar highway

  

The fluorescent thrum of the incarnate motorway

transports me beyond the boundaries of time
 

Without leaving my bed

 

 

There is so much I want to say 

But I know you won’t hear it 

 

We are ghosts caught in our own feedback loop of arrogance

  

Existing on separate planes
of the same home

 

Sometimes I am terrified that I have died 

And this is my life flashing before my eyes

 

But YOU are the one haunting this house 

 

A black cloud 

 

Navigating through hallways in an effort to reduce emotional traffic
Avoiding responsibility 

 

I’m feeling like I’m loosing time

Loosing the pages of this chapter 

 

As my half present self remembers to keep my shoes off the furniture

For the sake of your mother 

Who has taught me the meaning of unconditional love

 

Is it too much to ask for a little gratitude? 

Could you shrug off your pride

Just this once?

Just this once could we make it about me?

 

Cause see 

My DNA is linked to yours and I’m tired of paying your karmic debt

 

At least I’m working on my shit

Coming to realizations and shit

About the status quo 

 

and status-es

 

And the place where I am counting days like dollar bills 

 

Buying and spending time like currency

 

The rainbows that reflect in from crystals hung in the open windows that you could no longer see because you had boxed yourself in 
Refused to let in the light

In the cottage house on the edge of the property built for you 

By your mother with love and blessings 

All of which you have taken for granted

 
The first time I left
You fed me lies, to bring me back

Planting seeds of false hope
All while demanding my 16 year old half-sister give you all of her very first paycheck because she was supposed to be “helping” you 

 

Except being the father 

kind of works the other way 

 

Especially when your youngest daughter, my half-sister 

was being raised by her late mother’s grandparent’s

 

And you are still being raised
by your still very present
saint of a mother

 

I wonder sometimes

About the blood in the water 

When she dies

And weather I’ll stay and fight 

 

Or fly away for good 

Once her soul has departed 

Because everyone else here 

is giving everything they have in tithe

 

And then there is you 

 

the “crown prince”

 

Once upon a time

You and MY mother were high school sweethearts 

Who were history even before my third birthday

 

Your mother tells me I was conceived in love I have never felt

 

But this is MY story

 

And this is the sunshine I surround myself with 

 

While your head is too big to fit in the goddamn house 

Musings 6.25.17

One of my favorite things to do is write in invisible ink

I change the font color to match the background

so I can’t read over what I’ve written so far

and have to just keep forging ahead

It’s all I can do to turn off the criticizing voice

Who is always afraid that I’m wasting my time

Writing nonsense

A useless and unsuitable hobby

But it’s all I can do

Keeping all of those way more interesting realities

Shifting around in my brain from constantly distracting me from real life