Thursday, October 16, 2014

"Not a Happy Anniversary"


It’s an anniversary
Of sorts,
Macabre anniversary:
This very night
Twenty six years ago,
A Friday,
Details are unimportant;
What matters
Is the complete fabrics
Of everybody’s world
     Yours,
        Mine
            Just about everyone,
Was ripped to shreds
Just as surely
As if I had put it
In a blender on steroids,
Turned it on high
And watched the knives
Do their work.

People say
I’m better off,
I should be glad it happened
Because it gave me time
    To grow,
        To reflect,
            To change,
Or so they say.
Sometimes even I
Swallow that Kool-aid.
I’m less dangerous…
Dangerous to WHOM???

The desperation I feel
Maybe makes me dangerous
To myself,
Not that I am capable
Of causing myself,
Or anyone else.
Any physical harm.
It stays
    In the head,
        In the heart,
            In the soul;
And on a night like tonight
I’d rather be the man I was
Before
That damnable anniversary:
At least then
I wouldn’t feel
So awfully lonely


Chip Bergeron

Thursday, October 9, 2014

"Undertow"


Have you ever looked beneath the surf to see what might be there?  Have you ever really wondered over hidden things, inaccessible things, things that should not be, but are?  Has your imagination reached to unknown realms that you have never seen nor known?  Maybe not, for such a thing is rare, such a thing is not often to be found, surely not in grown-up minds, for, in maturing, minds are firmly bound to things that are, that can be seen, that fit into the logic of rationality, and rarely move beyond.  But, ah, the child, who does not know what things there are that cannot be, to him such limits are not known, to him the world is filled with magic and with mystery, and, with enchanted fingers he, perhaps, may grasp the edge of what we know cannot be grasped, and lift the foaming liquid edge of this endless sea: to look beneath, to see beneath, perhaps, if he be bold enough, to crawl beneath and enter in to that impossible realm where who-knows-what may be and great adventures lie.

----------ed pacht