Friday, October 10, 2014

A Prayer 1:45 a.m. 10/10/14


I remember the exact moment I lost my faith
It was a poem I lived before I wrote it
Staring up at a ceiling in Ponchatoula Louisiana 2010
Lying on a bed that had been moved four times since its initial purchase

About to be six
I remember looking at this bedroom furniture I conceived my daughter in
The first house before Katrina and the mold
I had not made time to buy curtains

I could see the forest behind the property
At night with the sound of the locomotive in the distance
I just lost my faith right there with the train
Like there was a mail net on a post in the olden days for pick up

In the morning I wrote this ten page poem of layers angry and bartering
Recounting that night, I laugh at it now like I really thought God listens
Like I really believed; I prayed hard every day
Like a golden retriever Catholic boy I thought growing up

That it mattered how many times I said it
Like I had a routine when I put my head on my pillow
Our Father, Glory Be, three Hail Marys, Our Father
And if I fucked up the words like I did at the living rosary in fourth grade

I started over because God doesn’t like flawed plaudits
That night my prayer was like a beast hunting
I asked where He was like come on you are really late for car pool dad
I understand, but I pissed on myself, and all the other kids were gone by then

But I stood in the dark with urine in my khakis
Afraid to step away from the curb
Like if I ran to the gym to find a toilet you would come and just drive off
Like you wouldn’t even look for me or know where I was

I pounded that mattress with my fists
Why does she get it all? 
Adultery-husband, money, house, time to watch our daughter grow up, a womb with a son
I don’t even hate her anymore; I hate you; rather quit trying for a while

I’ll get intellectual and read Hitchens and Dawkins and say life is about love or some shit
I’m good now and I was, for a while
She was satisfied with threatening my bankruptcy with mortgages
Until it spread to my employment

Auditing a spouse abuse clinic and they don’t want me to be their auditor anymore
Because the ex’s best friend is on the local board and he heard stories
Now my yokel boss has heard stores and it’s just better this way
In Tangipahoa Parish

God snuck back in and I fell in love with a woman that loves Jesus
Now I’ve got abortion stories and a living daughter
That looks at me like a compass
My brother wants me to keep standing because my fucking birthday is coming up

That train just keeps knocking me down
Six years, six years, before that it was Arthur Andersen and Katrina
February 2014 God you gave me a dream about a lioness eating my manhood
I grabbed that bitch by the jaws and took my junk back

I felt empowered like a Bible story hero solving crimes in reverie; the woman I got pregnant
Fours years later she had wanted to marry me and I told her no
because I knew she didn’t love me
But I also knew I needed to love you for me to feel worthy of her
Ain’t that some shit

I had that dream and I tried; she meets the man of her life in two weeks
Two weeks and she swears she’s going to marry him
But I found you God, I really believed again like not religion but that God is real
We are part of the same stuff, the good fucking stuff of the universe

I break down and buy the place, I get depressed but I have you again
We’re like old drinking buddies, except I don’t drink alone because I don’t trust myself
I meet a woman that blows the other two away
I feel like ah, I see what you did there, that plan thing
Everybody else found their dancing partner and now maybe it is my turn

I wrote the dancer poems and she could and wanted to read what I wrote,

“I see us like the sun and moon.  You are the moon; at night your outside lights up venting the inner; in day you are dark your inner goes to shadow.  I am the sun; at night I appear to vanish, but I am a constant in my dark core in an unstoppable fusion of condensing elements of the universe.  In day I blind the world with a business suit and math hiding a platypus-writer behind a right brained stereotype.  In night you tease the world with a grin fueled from distance.

The sun needs the moon to reflect what he has to offer as without her no one can ever look at his essence directly.  The moon needs the sun to be seen in her dazzling glory like the purpose of a man dancing is to let the woman show off.  He supports her like the vase to her flower or the ray to her leaf. 

Each shifts taking turns in the seen and unseen, overlapping in phases always present in what most viewers would never comprehend.  The sun nor the moon needs to be adjacent every moment.  Yes each needs to pass in phase, but each needs their alone.  The knowledge the other exists in distance brings balance.  They share their eclipses, their wax and wane in cycles of crescent and full, the tide and growth of oceans.  Each knows what the other needs to survive.

The sun will never be a moon.  The moon will never be a sun.  The balance in the never births the beauty of the Earth like a relationship both participate to breathe life, love, and equilibrium through a shared vessel.”

I was alive like a god damn forest fire, nourishing soils and charring the dead wood
And I prayed to you so thankfully like life had spun from the seed it was always meant

On the turn of a Wednesday, a death of her poor friend too young
The world spins and the carousel halts in a god damn email
My pleonastic letters and nothing, just nothing

I mediate, I try to be a good dad, I even put your name at the end of the prayers
I use with my daughter; Peace, Love, We are all interconnected through God,
Those last two words didn’t use to be there

Through you, this silence and its past one o’clock in the morning
I went to yoga again the day I started this poem
Like my new church to be in tune, to feel the vibration of all that is
I read a poem about love in a French Quarter bar
I came home to the same bed I am trying to give away in another house I am trying to sell 

I am typing and I am afraid I hear that train whistle
The hum is getting to me God
I am about to go put my head on that pillow
And I don’t know if I am going to wake up ok

So this is my prayer; I have felt sign after sign after sign
That she was my chance in this universe after all of that I gave everything my heart had left
I’m crying empty; now I can’t even look at the moon
I’m praying for a miracle, a god blessed miracle

All I ever wanted was a reciprocal love, maybe not forever, but maybe for a while?
For love has been so sparse, a few scattered weeks before disasters
You gave me this writer’s voice I used it to try to share love
The last felt like everything had prepared me for her

My letter sits like the minute before dawn; if it be your will please bring us out of this darkness
I will pay the world back in love seventy-seven fold
I just want a real chance because I don’t know how much more I can take
This heart, these lungs, this spirit just wants to feel you


Beat, beat, beat….

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