Warning: mysql_query() [function.mysql-query]: Access denied for user 'treadmil'@'localhost' (using password: NO) in /home/treadmil/public_html/wp-content/plugins/astickypostorderer/astickypostorderer.php on line 147

Warning: mysql_query() [function.mysql-query]: A link to the server could not be established in /home/treadmil/public_html/wp-content/plugins/astickypostorderer/astickypostorderer.php on line 147

Warning: mysql_query() [function.mysql-query]: Access denied for user 'treadmil'@'localhost' (using password: NO) in /home/treadmil/public_html/wp-content/plugins/astickypostorderer/astickypostorderer.php on line 182

Warning: mysql_query() [function.mysql-query]: A link to the server could not be established in /home/treadmil/public_html/wp-content/plugins/astickypostorderer/astickypostorderer.php on line 182

Warning: mysql_query() [function.mysql-query]: Access denied for user 'treadmil'@'localhost' (using password: NO) in /home/treadmil/public_html/wp-content/plugins/astickypostorderer/astickypostorderer.php on line 207

Warning: mysql_query() [function.mysql-query]: A link to the server could not be established in /home/treadmil/public_html/wp-content/plugins/astickypostorderer/astickypostorderer.php on line 207
Worthington Aberdeen’s Blog » 2009 » September

Archive for September, 2009

Descending Sinai

All night and all day
I walk
With fire in my veins
I can find no sanctuary.
There is just my Catholicness
Which dries
In the mouths of old priests
Lecturing in the vortex
Of my desires.I close my eyes
And I am floating
Over trees wreathing with serpents
And arc weary oceans.
I am weighed down with chains
To the deep sands
Of Biblical landscapes
Where the desert alone
Knows my pain.

I have run from each oasis
Only to stand vulnerable
At the perpetual fountains
Of Lust and Longing.
Oh, I have tried to hide my eyes
In velvet curtains,
But there is no help
In being Holy.

I know you are somewhere breathing
In a quiet room
Oh, that I could be there with you.
That I could be transformed
Into a silent piece of dust settling on your floor
That I could be re-made
Into a gentle drop of dew languishing at your pane.

Oh, that we could be alone
With only hands and lips and throats.
I will gladly burn
Cast my heart to the brimstone
And if God calls this wrong
I am His to destroy.

Let me die and wake
With the lightninged look of Moses
On my face.

Kitty and My Romeo

There is a woman named Kitty
Who walks our neighborhood
In old cork clogs that she drags
Along the street.She never recalls a name
Or precisely the day
But she remembers high school
And the cutest of three brothers
That took her to Vegas one night in summer
But left her at the corner
Of Koval and Flamingo
For a large-busted show girl
He called Sephora.

Kitty drinks wine in the late morning
In that big house where she was born.
Her father’s clothes in the closets
And half-feral cats in the yard
Her mom passed in a back room
Leaving her three antique cars
And a green canoe covered in tarps
And one new, white Hyundai.

Kitty lives life there in the shadow
Of overgrown trees and amber glass windows
That cast distorted reflections as she moves to and fro
With her glasses of Pinot and bottles of sadness
And her incontinent dog she calls
My Romeo.

A DEAD CAT in HOLLYWOOD

I pass it every day
On my evening jog
It must have been hit
By a car
And crawled off to die
By the side of the road
I can only hope
It did not suffer.

I watch it change
In the wake of high-priced cars
And luxury smog
Its mottled fur, pulling away
Its feline frame
Slowly reclaimed
By the pavement.

I called the city of L.A.
But no one came
And it remained
For months through a summer
Of liquidation
And foreclosure
The terrible face
Of hard times
And the indifference of life
Here in the fast lane.

I try to look away
But cannot divert myself
From this private pain
Playing out on the walkway
An empty sequin collar
A white zipper spine
Now all that remain.

My Father’s Watch

Today I wear my father’s watch.
My brothers did not want this watch
They find it strange that I did.
I find it curious that they didn’t.In this watch, I see my father’s hand.
I see his face, his clothes, and his broad shoulders.

I see his wallet on the nightstand
I recall this watch driving the car
With his cologne and his trench coat.
I remember this watch on a rainy day
With a wet newspaper.

In this watch I see life …
And what objects often do
When we hold them too long
And endear them too much
To their owners.

I see beyond the tagged leather band in the zip lock bag
That we picked up from the hospital
On that terrible morning.

When I wear my father’s watch
I hold it to my ear and hear it tick
I see time as he saw it
When it was on his side …
And not when it ran out on him.