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Archive for the tag “acceptance”

Happy Birthday

happy-birthday-jpg

Happy Birthday,

Baby! 

I thought of you,

today. 

I surprised myself,

because I even got the date right. 

I pictured you having a good time,

then,

I pictured you

fucking some guy

I will never know the name of. 

Finally,

I thought,

you deserve it.

 

© Copyright 2016 William S. Friday

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The Next Time

van gough CUT one

My childhood is the nightlight
of my waning years.
My dad died,
on the front porch of my childhood home,
at the age of 68.
His dog at his side.
Only God could tell you what he,
and the dog,
went through in that moment,
together,
like they spent most days of his retirement.
My mom still worked,
so she was not there when it all went down.
His final heart attack,
with Harry,
their next door neighbor,
finding him long after it was too late.
And Jo-Jo,
his little girl,
the Sheltie who kept him company.

Things we learn so late.
The hug.
The smile and nod.
The dismissal of anger
when anger’s escalation feels so much more natural.
And the acceptance of the flaws of history,
in the things that can never change.
Because the past dies before we do,
yet we hold onto it tighter that we do our own departed loves.

Three days before his passing on the porch,
I had my last dismissal,
in a dinner and a game
with the man whose whole existence would shape my own.
Weakened by years and a failing heart,
he was now not the man of my youth,
but merely the container.
A shell of clear glass,
incapable of concealing anything,
especially the truth.
He was almost dead that night,
but in him I saw only life.
We said goodnight,
not in any sort of dramatic understanding of what was to come,
but in the knowing way two people
of the same DNA hug,
then smile and nod,
expecting nothing more than to do it all again,
the next time.

Except the next time never came.

© 2016 William S. Friday

Love Unwitting

nano safety pin heart

 

Your words once meant more to me than my next breath, until they didn’t.  So well you did making that happen, through silence and invisibility, entered into, I assumed, for your own preservation, that you have seen to mine as well.

Till now that I, instead of hating you, thank you.

For what I once endured as a sign of your contempt, I now accept as a last act of love, unwitting. From which I emerge, knowing that, for both far better, and a little worse, I will never be the same.

 

© Copyright 2015 Bill Friday

“Two for Moonday”

Two poems, read at the Moonday poetry reading, held at The Little Theater in Los Angeles on Sunday, April 20th, 2014.

They are…

 

“Clean” (formerly titled “Come Flooding Back”), and “Feet for the Callouses”

 

 

“Clean”

 

My hands smell

like dispensered soap

from the bathroom

inside Starbucks

 

Clean

like the hospital room

where my son died

all those years ago.

 

Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

 

Followed by…

 

“Feet for the Callouses”

 

To trade this now

for another

because parts of now

make me sad

to severe an arm

for the birthmark or

feet for the callouses

 

And deny my senses

for a life of fewer lessons

curse my eyes

for the glasses

or my mouth

for the soap

that washed it out

 

To not have held

the entirety of love

against my chest then

carried it on feet

that have withstood

the weight of imperfection

but continued forward

 

And trade the scars

that gave me beauty

in the infinite tomorrow

for an empty past

of losses unremembered

is a cowardice

for fools.

 

Copyright © 2014 Bill Friday

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