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Two Poems

Sunset

Behold! The western sky
is ablaze with the failing hopes
of another day.
Enjoy your evening.

Pregnant Emptiness

Every day is a new life to live
we die to ourselves, to our world, to our God
Every-night.

And are resurrected with each new
dawning light.

Resurrection, rebirth are part of our every day life
that is why it so touches our
beliefs and our psych'.

Today is rebirth from yesterday's death.

Check Mate

"Well, looks like we know where we're going."

"Sure does."

"Maybe we could play a game of chess? I tutor at 2 o clock."

"Sure. That's my freshman friend."

"Does she know that?"

"Yeah, I have one every year. She's a freshman, and a friend. She's a freshman friend. My freshman friend."

"Ok, just so long as she knows it. Now, how do you know her again?"

"Work."

"Ah."

"She works Fridays and Saturdays."

"And that's why she asked you if you work tonight."

"Uh huh."

"Do you?"

"I dunno."

"I'll get the chess set. The small one; we can play on the porch. I wonder who's working today."

"I'm gonna get coffee."

"Hey there Gretchen, how are ya?"

"Hello, John. I'm doin' good. And you?"

"Doin' just fine. Can we get the chess set, the little one."

"There ya are."

"Ah, can we have the the other one, we're gonna play on the porch."

"Alright, you guys are complicating my life."

"That's what we do. Gotta keep you on your toes."

"Thanks. I'll go set it up, Jake."

"Ok, I'm gonna get some coffee."

"I got the tall this time."

"I did this morning too. So. My turn?"

"Yepp."

"Well. That was stupid. What a dumb opening move."

"Ha! Yeah, that is dumb."

"I didn't mean to do that. Here, let me move my king's bishop's pawn and give you two move check mate."

"I wouldn't mind."

"Alright, well that should rectify the situation. And actually, that's not a terrible position. I may adopt that as an opening move."

Erupting from the edge of the table, a small, small voice calls for attention. It succeeds.

"Well, hello there. How can we help you?"

"I like that game." The small girl reported peering over the edge of the wrought iron and glass table.

"Do you now? You any good?"

"Yeah, i'm really good." Tilting her head back in the bravado and sureness reserved for the pure of heart. "I really like playing."

"What's it called?"

Momentarily defeated by this older boy, her self assurance skips a beat. Not all is lost however, she recovers like an old pro, avoiding the question, playing to her strong suits and recapturing the advantage. "I'm really good." She said, her gray-old soul, piercing eyes staring into Johns.

"You wanna play? Maybe you can help me beat Jacob."

"Well that's not fair."

"I need all the help I can get."

The little girl litely climbs onto the bench next to the table and reaches for the white's queen's bishop.

"Hey, how about this. You can help me, but I'll suggest a place to move a piece and then you can move it? What do you say to that?

"Ok."

"Alright, first move, take this piece, the bishop, and move it... here. Can you do that for me?"

She reaches for the bishop and moves in deftly to the desired place.

"Check."

"Hmm, good move. If you beat me it's because you had help."

"Ok, but you're still in check. Hold on, it's his turn. We need to let him take a turn."

"Look mommy! I'm playing with the boys!" The little girl belted joyfully.

"That's nice, as long as they are ok with it. What are their names, sweety."

Unable to answer, she searches her tricks for a way to avoid admitting ignorance, but is saved by her new friends.

"John."

"Jacob."

"John and Jacob!"

"And what is your name?"

"Mia."

"How old are you Mia?"

Mia held up 3 fingers in response.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters, Mia?"

She nodded yes. "One brother."

"What's his name?"

"Mark."

"How old is mark?"

"He's 4. I want that piece." She said, reaching for a rook.

"You want a rook? You can take Jacobs rook, but I'd rather you leave mine on the board."

"Here, why don't you play with those that have already been taken off the board."

"Look they're a castle," she said placing the hallow, plastic pawns atop one another, "oops, it fell down!" She took white's queen and placed it back on the board.

"I'm a fan of that."

"That's a little disconcerting."

"Can you play with them on the table?"

Smiling, she placed a pawn behind another one near black's rook.

"Why don't you put them here, on the edge."

She began placing all the pieces back on the board, white squares, black squares, showing no favoritism. John and Jacob began removing pieces and placing them back in front of her. This worked for only so long, Mia began taking immense pleasure in placing the pieces in their less than proper places. This had become the game. Her two small hands against 4 hands atleast twice the size of hers. Hers guided by the frenzy of a new game, theirs by reason and logic and a desperate attempt to salvage what had become quite an interesting game.

"Mia, can we try and keep the pieces on the side?"

This was all that was needed to bring them into the next round of action. Mia began to toss pieces onto the board, knocking several over in the process. John and Jacob abort the rescue mission and focus their efforts on preventing pieces from falling from the table to oblivion. Pawn down. Queen down. Pawn and rook in the empty icecream dish. Arms extended to net flying miniatures.

King down.

"Mia, my dear, it appears you have won.

Unseasonably warm. Over cast, winter trying to regain lost ground. Rain on the air, leaves upturning. Cool in the shadows of drifting clouds. Pleasant, a good day for a walk. Still tipsy from a night of... indiscretion, better not drive. Perfect. Grudgingly--gratefully, depositing three hundred and 6 dollars and seventy two cents. Walking looking seeing.

Truth moves at 3 miles an hour.

He had tested that once, walking beside his bike with the computer registering 2.5 or 3 miles an hour. He wasn't on a quest for truth. But he wouldn't hate to find some. He started his day as per usual, singing, not for the words, but for the beauty, the Doxology. The Doxology of his childhood around the table, but different, gender neutralized... no more masculine pronouns. Oh, and he had taken shots to that song once. The Pater Nostre. Why? For the comfort and the ritual. For the beauty. For forgiveness and daily bread and heaven on earth. Walking down the street he saw the backs of buildings which he had only seen from the front. The old old, flagstone house turned into a shop on the square, turning into a flower pot for reaching vines. The delapidated unexplained shops on the right side of the street. What do they sell there? A sign promising a five hundred dollar reward for the arrest of the arsen of the property. Funny, the building looks pretty good for having been burnt down. Maybe they sell bird baths, lots of those in the front yard. Or maybe collectors? An unfinished foundation. A foundation is no good without a house. What kind of creaturs must live under there? Church bells, 9 oclock. Europe. This feels like a European town, right now in this instant.

Texting. That infernal technology permitting one access to anyone at anytime from anywhere. A tether to friends and family. A damnable distraction destroying real communication. Can he ever be as cool in person as he is in text? The only, not necessarily best, option for instant contact. He grips the phone in his pocket expecting to find warmth because so many warming messages have come via that contraption. No warmth, just plastic and battery and magic.

A vibration. A missed heart beat. A chuckle for the rediculousness. A conversation conveaned.

Truth moves at the speed of text.

She wants to become more involved in her new community. Maybe join the community chorus. It's not about the voice it's about belonging to something, being connected with a civic family. He makes sure that she gets to know the town well to make his transition easier. Meet a girl for me. He gives her guidelines. Moving into a new town, meeting new people, starting over. Definitely an adventure. There in the parking lot of his apartment, a fellow slave, or rather employee. A conversation in full swing. The punchline got quite a reaction, too bad he missed the joke.

"He was a graduate of Cummins. I have students who graduated from Abry and Cummins." He backs up to make his leave, checks himself and returns. "You don't even know what Abry and Cummins are do you?"

"Nope, can't say I do."

"Prisons in south-west Arkansas," pointing to the southwest, that innnate knowledge of directions some people have shining forth, "course we knew he wasn't dangerous, all he'd done was steal a horse trailor. We asked him what he had learned there and he said he learned that your friends will turn on much sooner than those others."

"Well if that's all he learned it didn't do him much good."

"He was a good kid, he took to likin' this girl in class once." He checked himself again, realizing he had started a story that would require some updating, and returned. "Did I tell you I was the principle of Central?"

"Ah, the bears."

"Yeah, that's the right the bears. But elementary school, don't get me confused with those highschool people."

"I won't."

"So he took to likin' this girl. 6'2", 280 pounds."

"Big girl." Said the newcomer to the conversation.

The principle, acknowleding him for the first time, looked at him, winked and said "Yeah, real big girl. She's married now; married an even bigger man, " he said, raising his arms above his head to emphasize the size of this man, "300 pounds and 6'8". So one day, I was writing on the board and I hear this slap. I mean, you knew it was skin on skin. I turned around to see Jimmy shuffling back to his seat. He had gone over there and said something to her. He had been pickin on her a lot before then. I guess she had just had enough of him. She was hunkered down, with her head in her arms, scared you know. I asked her out in the hallway and assured her she wasn't in trouble. She had the right to do it. "

"I'm sure what ever he said or did, he probably deserved it."

"Uh huh, but, she was far from in trouble. Best disciplinarian i've ever had. Never had any more trouble ol' Jimmy. So he ended up graduating from Cummins. Always a bit of a trouble maker. There's always at least one. Sometimes more."

"Especially at Central."

The principle, shuffled away two more times before he finally went about his business.

During the course of this conversation, he recieved another text.

And ignored it.

Funny how that happens...

I've fucked it up.
And so have you.
Unfeeling and afraid.
Too feeling and afraid.
You've fucked it up.
And so have I.

I don't really care for people to know me well....