What An Opportunity

Posts Tagged ‘life’

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Spero

In Life on May 17, 2013 at 1:35 am

Oh she knew. She knew why she couldn’t sleep. She knew what that sound meant. The slow braking of an all-too-familiar vehicle. Slurred gratitude as steps proceeded up the drive. Fumbling keys as the caricature of him stumbled through the door frame.

 

His steps greeted the stairs much like his lips eventually met her cheek: heavy and over-stated to feign restraint. She lay with her eyes closed but sleep had not visited her bed.

 

The smell of his addiction filled the room as he undressed. His shirt landed on the table and his pants found the floor as he barely avoided the bed post.

 

He climbed into bed and rolled over to kiss her properly this time. He stopped abruptly. He always seem to forget that he shouldn’t lie down too quickly.

 

A hastened rush to the bathroom and the expulsion of all that he consumed followed. She knew it would happen. She knew him too well. Hope is beautiful. if only in that it shows us the beauty in things we might otherwise let be.

 

That belief drove her to stay. His disregarded abstinence was but a faint whisper when he was her love. He brought a feverish passion to all that he pursued and the most magnificent of his talents was his ability to adore her. That light would gleam in his green eyes as his lips revealed each deliciously wicked notion.

 

God, how long ago was that? She tried to keep herself busy. She took on more projects at work and her friends kept her company. She knew where he would be. She also knew that the ghost of who they were would catch up with her if she stopped moving.

 

Ambition? Disregarded. She didn’t know when he lost it but he did. The light flickered, and like the innocence of youth, was gone.

 

They had tried. She had tried. He had continued through the motions. His affliction was the bottle. Her affliction was the unwavering desire to glimpse again, just for one moment, that spectacular vision of their lives together. Unbridled hope  may be the most profound, and utterly devastating, condition known to the human heart.

 

She knew the destructive power of fleeting hope. She also knew he was not her husband. Not anymore. She moved slowly as the sounds from the bathroom subsided and only mumbling could be heard. She avoided the mirror as she dressed. She knew one glance towards the light would fill her with that unspeakable feeling of pride in being his recovery.

 

But life is beautiful. It provides infinitesimal occasions wherein the purpose of our existence is firmly within our grasp to proceed as we wish.

 

You could say she stopped loving him. Some would argue that she never loved him more.

 

He lay under the toilet as she closed the front door behind her. His murmurs fell on deaf ears:

 

Will you still love me?

Will you still love me?

I know you will.

I know you will.

 

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Enter title here

In Life on May 8, 2013 at 1:42 am

It’s the morning raindrops dancing on the balcony that drew worn eyes to the window

Mother Nature tearing up real quiet like under a clearing sky as the man knelt in the dirt

Rumor has it that he asked for this; Said something about hanging being the coward’s way, the strange fool.

3 rounds and a sound.

 

They say he stole something, something important

Nobody really knows what but if he’s guilty, he’s guilty.

He was just someplace that he wasn’t supposed to be

3 rounds and a sound

 

He fought it tooth and nail

Said something about his missus. What do these fools know about loving someone?

They put him in prison till they could figure out what to do with him.

3 rounds and a sound

 

They asked him if he wanted his “missus” to visit him (Everyone got a good laugh out of that. They had sold her by that time.)

He declined. Said, “These memories keep me company.”

Guess we all want somebody sweet to talk to but momma and pappa say these fools don’t have human needs like we do

3 rounds and a sound

 

There have been some rumblings though; real low rumblings, like a train on the track, but it’s way off, you know.

Something about how the owner preferred the bottle

Something about how he found the owner in bed with her

Something about how the owner’s intoxicated discourse stoked the deepest fury inside of him

3 rounds and…that sound

 

Come to find out that life is not so much black and white, as it is differing shades of grey

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Tennyson.

In Life on April 11, 2013 at 11:49 pm

tennyson.

The day will rise

When we can truly say,

“The days past are more than the days ahead.

Yet, there is nothing behind that can take the breath from my lips.”

 

The soul cries the song of the caged bird

Limitless in potential

Embodied in mortality

There is no greatness we cannot find

If willing to find that which carefully considers

The truest of desires

 

It is not sufficient to exclaim our existence

The breath of life within the airways

The beating of affections, passionate and incapable of concision

Is the truest favor of the gods

 

In the greatness and the fall,

the forgotten and the forgiven,

the beginning and the end,

the last and the first,

forever and a day,

love and selfishness,

faith and scorn,

hope and bitterness,

humanity and eternity,

 

May our frailties find peace within

The things that change and the things that change us.

 

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Drive.

In Life on March 30, 2013 at 8:51 pm

finding norman.

Norman Smith is an understated man; not necessarily underwhelming but understated. A simple man. He likes what he likes and ignores what he doesn’t want to see. Yet, he couldn’t tell you what he actually likes. While we’re here, Norman couldn’t really tell you what he believes in either. Norman is an understated man…who does what he does whenever he does it.

So on an understated Sunday afternoon, our understated protagonist took a drive down a back country road. Norman couldn’t really tell you where he was going but he could tell you it felt right to leave for awhile. The most vibrant reds and yellows blurred as Norman’s vehicle sped down the open road. As the miles from home grew in number, Norman couldn’t help considering whether the distance between who he was and the person he wanted to be was quite simply much too far. As if the odometer would halt rolling numbers and spell out “failure”. When the GPS asked for a destination, could he answer “Self”?

Norman wondered where love went wrong. He had good intentions. Isn’t trying what separates love from divorce? That’s not how his ex-wife put it in court but Norman liked to think so. He didn’t always say it (he said it everyday) but he made sure to remind himself of what he was not. “Do I deserve any of the good things that happen to me?” That lasted for a bit. Then to counter this conscious medication, Norman would recount his triumphs and delve into fantasies around his ability. Manual bipolarism, if you will. He had good intentions.

Norman drove till the sun began to set. He pulled over to side of the road when he found a knoll to admire the sun take its rest. Sometimes it’s the simplest things that remind us of how delicate this life is. Norman just enjoyed the sunset in his own way. He didn’t want to be anywhere else.

The nature of humanity is a drive to find what fulfills our spirit

and a hunger for an atmosphere where that fulfillment is consistent.

We are that which makes us whole. And nothing more.

Under the weight of the ideals we set for ourselves,

Let us be that which we wish to see.

That which makes us smile, brings out the best in us,

That which sets an example.

In our ambition, let us leave room for what is most important.

In our belief, may we be the better people.

In our love, may actions be words.

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Places.

In Life on March 10, 2013 at 8:06 pm

places.

Disclosures of an intimate format

Discoveries beyond the struggle

to define the self’s

Will, selfish or humble?

 

What is life but mere moments

that taken together

form the basis of personality

for worse or for better

 

These moments are almost never

of our own preference or choice

and yet, the strength of humanity

is in our reaction and poise

 

So let us find the best

in the moments that try

our belief in trust and self

that by His grace, we may vie

 

to love and be loved.

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Reserved.

In Life on February 19, 2013 at 12:20 am

maybe it’s that fear of being still

maybe it’s that fear of heights again,

I can’t  look down.

but for the life of me,

guess we’re all trying to find home.

I’ll tell you when I get there.

“what do you want to be when you grow up?”

start asking questions we don’t want the answer to

not sure if this is the person we always thought we would be

are not so far off

we’re getting to that age where the dreams we had as kids

reserved.

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31.

In Life on January 29, 2013 at 8:05 pm

Let’s walk back in time

back to when she was less of a rhyme

and more or less the reason

that this apparatus would stop beating

just for a second

 

Back to the conversations on pillows

as the wind bent the willows

outside that window

and she let you see clear

through the pain and fear

to the eternity inside

 

Back to the perfect in imperfection

the school punishments without the lesson

the  ”you know i’m just messin”

and that smile

or the times it went away

with the words you didn’t say

and the thoughts that brought the fray

and to this day,

can’t say that it mattered

 

Back to the double-take

and the crushes real and fake

and the things we give but can’t take

and the reasons why

and the “hi, my name is shy”

and this is not goodbye

and i promise you that

 

but we only go forward with time

yet, these choices are still mine

 

guess with age comes tries,

but im feeling old, and not very wise.

 

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Thank you.

In Life on January 15, 2013 at 11:30 pm

“This is Jeopardy!” the television murmured in the living room.

She stood over the kitchen sink as she placed the last dish on the rack.

“Want me to dry?”

Her heart skipped a beat. Old age can do that to you.

 

“Oh, Sam…you scared me half to death. I thought you were sleeping.”

The television flickered and she pulled her sweater closer to her chest.

“So sorry, my dear. The offer is still on the table.”

“You might as well.” she responded.

She took a seat as he grabbed the dish towel in his hands and began to wipe the dishes dry.

 

“You know…”

“I know you didn’t need help,” he interjected. “I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

“Well, thank you.” she responded as she sat at the kitchen table and watched him.

“You talk to the kids, lately?”

She was lost in her thoughts.

“The kids…uh…yes. Just the other day. They grow up so fast.”

He continued to dry as she talked.

 

“I guess he’s worried about his future and what will happen to his family. I keep telling him, ‘Growing up is not giving up .’ Doesn’t want to listen.”

“Wonder where he gets that from?”

“Nobody asked you, Samuel.”

She was not impressed by his wit but she could hear the satisfaction in his tone.

 

“Anyway,” she continued, “I keep telling him to not worry about the things that seem less important these days. It happens. Part of growing up. When you get to my age, it’s funny what seems trivial and unnecessary.”

“Woefully self-aware as always, my love.”

“Thank you, Samuel. I know there’s a compliment in there somewhere.”

The light flickered above the kitchen table as he smiled as he hung up the dish towel. He sat with her and listened.

 

She spoke about the kids; their two boys and a girl. She talked about how the neighborhood had changed. She talked about the local college team and how those children dress these days. He listened. And smiled. And chuckled to himself.

“…Like I always say, ‘You can’t move on till you can accept where you are.”

“Contentment.”

“Exactly.” she answered.

“Oh look at the time, it’s almost 9. I must be getting to bed. Are you going to stay up, darling?”

 

“Dear…”

He held her hands and looked her in the eyes.

“Sam…I know…”

The thoughts that had filled her head couldn’t leave her lips. As if, once they escaped her lips, they would be real.

 

“You passed many years ago,” she said as she touched his face.

“I miss you a little everyday. But He knows best. And your time here was over. Sometimes it is difficult knowing I los…”

“You never really lose anybody, my dear. Not as long as there is a God in heaven. You never lose anybody.”

 

He stood up from the table.

“My dear, let’s dance like we used to…”

And there, they danced as her memory of him began to fade.

“You are never alone, my love. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you. Thank you…”

 

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Beauty.

In Life on December 28, 2012 at 4:18 pm

 

Winsome array of pigment on leaves

She holds her hand on her first day of school

Laughter in the activities that bring us together

 

Beginning snow, through the glass, close to the flame

Satiated hunger…a place of warmth for him before walking the streets again

Anticipation pulling the child towards the chimney on the twenty-fourth day

 

Paths taken in light rain

Swallow’s song that gently lands in the ear and accompanies the heavy clouds

Flashes of the aureate and flavescent

 

The most wonderful shade of blue

The mess of ice cream before her mother takes notice

Walking through those fields of flowers in full bloom

 

That which persuades your heart

That which captures your wonder

That which makes you consider how you ever got along without…

 

That, which tugs at the strength of eternity, is beauty.

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