by Darryl Price
The One Who Needed Let In Most
“Living is easy with eyes closed/misunderstanding all you see.”—John Lennon
was let out, spilling all sandy-like from a dagger's
split-open money sack, and refused port entry.
Everyone pretended that this
was not an indecent gesture at
all, but merely the way of the world
in which we all must survive to live.
Nothing personal about that, why surely
you must know life's fairness by now. All brought about because
some innocent spoiled little brat of a boy
with the golden catcher's mitt on his
smartly turned out wrist was also at
the front door selling homemade lemonade pops
(so cute!)so he could buy poor shell enclosed
reptiles a little more flipping
sand to perhaps lay more of their amazingly
delicate eggs in holes in before
they're sent packing back into the big
bad sea to fend for themselves. Sharks and
who knows what else live out there too you know! One
has to make difficult choices and
live with the results. Children are never
easy but you kind of get used to it.
But won't each one of you reading this live just fine
with whatever results you get; won't
you? All she's ever had to win you
over with her whole life through are someone
else's mad mistakes and a twisted-on corkscrew of a
smile. No cold nosed furry face full of
soft whiskers that tickle at you when she
shuts her eyes real tight and rubs against your cheeks
like a favorite bedtime story
as you giggle down your milk. While all of us have
already known so many delights in this world.
Haven't you tasted every flavor
Moroccan coffee bean ice cream there is? It's
secret formula having been stored under
your floor boards the whole time you were
growing up like a free anytime
vacation ticket to Disneyland
for you and the whole family to take at will. She's
never been thrilled by simply playing all
day long in some sunshine. Dig that, Fat Cat?
She's someone's child, while she remains a child,
and that someone is you right now because
she came to you on this summer's day.
I DON'T BUY THE NEED
TO ALWAYS BE BEGGING TO BE
GRANTED IMMORTALITY. ISN'T IT ENOUGH
WE GET TO TRY OUT
OUR LOVE ON EACH OTHER? SURELY MOST OF
US DON'T HAVE WHAT IT
TAKES TO KNOCK DOWN ALL
THOSE STACKING UP AGAINST US STARS AT ONCE WITH
JUST ONE KISS. I WAS
LUCKY YOU WANTED TO BE
WANTED THAT'S ALL. THANK GOD
IT WASN'T ALL PURE GREED ON MY PART. I WILL
PREFER THE PASSIONATE LIE OVER
THE SICKEST TRUTH ANYWAY. THAT
PERMISSION WAS BETTER THAN ANY DANCING
IN A LOST DREAM WITH A GIRL'S ARMS AROUND ME.
I HOPE THIS POEM STILL
FINDS YOU ENJOYING BECOMING YOURSELF.
WHAT MORE CAN I SAY?
MAYBE NEXT TIME I COULD
TRY HANGING ON A LITTLE
BIT LONGER BEFORE BEING TOSSED
OFF THE BLINDING LIGHTS AND
HAVING TO HEAR SOMEONE ELSE
DELIVER MY LINES TO YOUR
PRETTY FACE. OKAY YOU CAN
GO NOW. THERE'S NOTHING ELSE
HERE FOR YOU. NOTHING LEFT. JUST AN
EMPTY PAGE. WHATEVER CREATURE THESE
WORDS ONCE HELD HAS LONG SINCE
GONE TO HEAVEN. YOU MOVE ALONG,TOO.
The Horse-Shaped Hole
stands softly in moon-wash
nibbling on tufts at
the top of sleeping
day. Instantly we are
We hear all the stories
coming right up out of
the dust. We see the same
sky, the same stars. We've met
our own deaths forever.
We know what's happening.
Because of this some of
us will come willingly
to have chains put around
our feet. Some others must
never be anything
but free. This way they can
still lead with their hearts. We
cannot save us. You could
not save yours either as
he was bleached and became
a ghost. There is little
time for this conversation
before the planet
can no longer pronounce
our names correctly. Then
there will be no one to
call us home again by
trumpet or full foot stomp.
It may sound funny to
you but we have tasted
the rain, flowers, grass;
it tastes right, we believe.
Bonus Poems:
In Memory of Lily Burk
to love him and not
love me. It will never
be true. Love doesn't
run out. It's never
empty. If anything
it constantly
renews itself
with whatever air
exists. That's why it
can't be captured or
imprisoned. The body
is not the essence.
Freedom is the
essence. You can say you
understand, but
in the back of your
mind you're just getting
started doubting everything.
This causes
love to wait. If it
waits long enough you
will be dead. Let's put
it another way.
The ancient ones spoke
of love as invisible
cities perched
on a hill under
a mushroom sun. The
people were calling
out names but our feet
were dumb and followed
a different path
leading around the
city walls. Angels
blasted their trumpets
in our ears and still
we sang our own songs
in a deafening
wail. Their tears were met
with scorn and arrows
and broken rocks. Who
could blame them for lifting
the whole thing off
the earth? Sometimes it
floats between the light
and dark like a foaming
ribbon, and sometimes
it spins above
our heads in an endless
swirl of stars. And
sometimes it holds itself
right between our
two hands and pretends
to sleep. That's its birth
right. Please. Say love's name.
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Many thanks to the fantastic Camel Saloon and its barkeep,Russell Streur, for your consistent and reassuring welcome to my creativity. Two of these pieces can be found there. Visit. You'll be so glad you did.It's a mighty fine place to be wandering around.
This story has no tags.
A treasure book!
Thanks for including "In Memory of Lily Burk"--one of my favorites of yours.
"Oh Love get here first."
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beautiful work and a great idea!
Great titles, Darryl - also loved laughable teeth,unfortunate
home,poetry leak,twisted smile,moon-wash, wonderful word pairing and this -
I HOPE THIS POEM STILL
FINDS YOU ENJOYING BECOMING YOURSELF.
WHAT MORE CAN I SAY?
Top stuff! fav *
Beautiful work as usual Darryl! Can't believe I missed this one.
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