AFFECTION FOR US LASTS IN THE UNIVERSE

A LASTing LOVE

Remember when our breath was shared

and we cared enough to dare to love again,

just one last time, forgetting all the previous failures?

I left through the door to see the world of love

and you stayed far behind, thinking to sail there.

Then I saw you did not follow

I broke down and cried,

eventually laid down in the composting leaves and died,

until you found me laying there without a breath or a care.

Back you went to find the door I had walked through

because now a life time later you too

wanted a breathless life to share and

a love like none, you had not seen but once before?

We’ve spent our life together

traveling away from each other

until we were out of sight of the other.

There is no blame to be had

for the garden was barely tended.

It was knowledge of the ways we went on,

the knowing of one another when the caring smoldered,

and for all my life I carried your love

in that hole in my heart always thinking,

wondering how your were doing today.

Before you found that decaying place

to lay yourself down alone,

for dying at home

with you here beside me,

the ring still upon your finger.

© M Durfee

1.26.2014

TAKE YOUR PICK AND 3 55's BECAUSE I FORGOT FRIDAY WASN'T TUESDAY

THE SUN IS NAKED AND FREE OF FEAR FOR ITS FUTURE

I want to run, run naked in the sun of light and harmony. Is there no peaceful place left amidst the human race of this age that would allow me such simple a pleasure? Do I need to live fully within being afraid of every neighbor and stranger? I am so tired of wondering why it is that my generation is so fear filled of death, in present day living within agony over dying alone but is fully intent always on eating itself.

9/27/13

A SMALL NEIGHBORHOOD IN A SMALLER SCHOOL

For a childhood left so far behind

it seems that in the remind

the golden days were way back when.

I stand here now and look forward

as I older age and in age and wonder

which were truly the better of best days.

With the family and so many crazy friends

all leaning future forward or now, today when

I can look both fore and back seeing everything that's been.

Is it better to be a grandchild bounced and steadied

as we slept on our lovely granny's lap or is it better

to be a granny now with a wee bairn on ever ready old knees?

Look at us now, grayer, definitely wider, some say wiser

but ever so torn between the when of our dawn

and aghast at the coming dawn of our own dying time.

Here am I now looking both toward and back;

thinking my life's been both good and bad,

but it all started in that three tiered brown brick shack.

(C) Mark Durfee

6/26/13

PATRIOT ACTS

Eyes and ears floating all over the digital world listening in on every word, true or a joke, you ever spoke. You’re really fucked if you told the wrong kind of joke and by god if you have a mistress you just pissed away a good job with a security clearance. Oh they claim the right to your privacy; you know because we’re all one big happy family. I am pretty sure they like it best when two people cross the fantasy line and start talking about what they’d do to each other if they were together in real time. Of course there is really only one fucking crime going on and that’s them, your government, listening in on you and your odd proclivity for a little bit of digital privacy. Now you know why they forced you to go digital, analog was too slow for them to hear everything; not fast enough for them to know you’re a freak because you’re a dude who likes to wear leather tights and a dress at the end of the week.

© M Durfee

9/26/13

THE UNITED STATES OF BORDELLO

Save me from this jaundiced prison

where leadership sees the world

through a prism of money colored glass.

But God damn them

they’d never risk their ass

for anything that might

touch their mostly unearned,

26 weeks of paid vacation

and lobby gifted cash,

picked up at the capitol pay station.

I finally learned the equation,

like magic I learned to do the math.

A politician equals pure fucking trash.

And yes they every few years recycle each other.

Because there is no better partner in thievery

than one you can call to lobby you than a brother.

©M Durfee

9/26/13

RELIGION

They told me I was temporarily excommunicated. I didn’t understand why they were bum rushing me outside with a kick in the ass. I followed all the rules. Kneeled when I was supposed to, spoke the right words. “We’re tired of having to go to the bank to cash your checks, tithe in cash asshole.”

© M Durfee

9/28/13

POLITICS

Taking my first conscious breath, I was pretty certain my nose was broken again. I could taste blood from my swollen lips. Everything was blurry, eyes nearly beat shut. God damn, I wondered what the fucking beating would it have been like if I had gone to a campaign rally of someone I didn’t support?

© M Durfee

9/28/13

SEX

I was outside the toy store waiting. Her hand went into my back pocket. I knew she wasn’t reaching for my wallet. I keep it in the front pocket; no one sits on snake skin. Then she whispered in my ear “honey that was a great store now let’s go home and have some fun.”

9/28/13

OK So I fucked up and forgot yesterday was Friday so I wrote these 55’s for Galen. On the upside he won’t have to kick my ass all the way through the weekend. SO CLICK ON THIS EXPLANATION AND APOLOGIZE TO HIM FOR ME

PROSE sort of.

 LIFE’S LITTLE EPITAPH IN RHYTHM

It’s late, beyond the middle of the night when half the world is yet dreaming dreams, visions of strange scenes in which they are turned from actors on a stage in street clothes to every unimaginable awake scene hoping to conquer and win depending on the subconscious storyline written while you were breathing in the daylight trying to make a way through madness’ flight.

I wonder do you hear it, do you hear time passing as it comes for you riding the horse of dawn. That moment when day caresses your face and you hope you’re waking up to rejoin again the human race not finding yourself in some strange place you yawn your way into hoping that the dream is over and that it’s not your scream you hear as the light approaches you, or is it you going to it?

Death is a scary moment for them not prepared for when you do finally wake to find you’ve left all you knew behind. Then I wonder what thoughts will run through your mind? Will it be which religion was right and are you hoping that you got that shit straight or will you wake to find that you don’t care anymore because there is no structure of belief beyond that final dawn’s door?

Is it where the reality you sought as you dreamt your way through the night called life has finally come and nothing is as you thought? Will your words and wisdom protect you from the direction you wasted time fearing when you realize it is no dream, you really have no super hero or even workman’s clothes of protection to hide in, not even leaves like they had at the tales beginning?

Fortunate are the few who have no dreams left to live the night through. Those that nightly fall and die and mourn their waking to what they left behind, again, another day trapped in the same place, the same world of wishes that never come true, and the same fears filling a frightened mind. Always the same hypocrisy and the same lie that refuses to die; that everything’s going to be fine but never again in your life time.

Do you hear the screams of big screen Hollywood’s worst night mare coming for you until you change the channel? Do you even know what you fear or are you one of the many that must be told once life is lost; it becomes precious, dear to someone near? I have a suggestion to answer your question. Might it not be best to attach yourself, sir, to this place with only the organs held inside your body and nothing else? In ignorance and fear there is no other music you’ll know but a dirge.

This physical place ever in a constant state of motion, commotion, turmoil, anger and, war does it deserve anything more, your love, your trust, compassion, your spent passions to document a life that at best is ending later rather than sooner because you may find that once you’re gone isn’t anyone left after an hour or two who really cares or gives a damn. There is always that half in their black designer show ‘em off suits who’ll will be telling the other half you were truly a good person, memorable except you were a prostitute for something you truly believed in but were a fool for doing so and a tool of those more powerful than you. “It’s all class warfare you know and he lost.”

And that memorial game is your fifteen minutes of fame while everyone else of course really are concerned compassionate people bleeding tears over your perfumed and polished corpse until it is them that death calls to for the time of dying. Those are the ones who go kicking and screaming as they go on and ever on about how unfair living a limited life is on a Lear jet.

Better again I say to sleep away the night in unknowing unseeing darkness and regret only waking to the same hypocrisy you had the chance to leave behind before you went to sleep yesterday. Better it be to leave this planet to them to afraid to explore the nights magic and never come back out of darkness’ box rather than listen to the lies told you again that earth is hell or heaven. It’s neither just one fucked up place that was left you by them who moved off towards the screaming visions to sleep with no dawn to wake them. Again.

© M Durfee

9/11/13

Of course it’s hard not to know that this is the anniversary of the mass murder of 2977 known innocents of every kind, color, nationality and creed and 19 more radical Wahabi Muslims, which really isn’t fair to islam to name them such but that is where bin Laden learned his hatred at; the Wahabi  mosques of Saudi Arabia, the home of that particular form of radicalism.

Though they are included in this question and answer piece of prose it is NOT specifically about those 2996 souls taken from the earth that day. I have a more specific reason for this writing, as ever to try to get everyone to face the greatest fear of humanity, death, and live free here now while you can, for no one knows if they will wake on the morrow.

No one knows. I am sad for them who watch frightening movies to get an adrenalin rush and an evil vision of a natural order of life, and those preppers who spend hundreds of thousands of dollars that they might survive a catastrophe. Thinking they would have a blank canvas to repopulate the planet on. I don’t find this theory or reality funny but I do find it peculiar that some are willing to kill other survivors that they might have a month’s more food on their bug out shelves.

I am also spurred on by the recall on 9/10/13 of two Colorado senators who supported tighter background checks on gun sales and extended ammo clips because of the Aurora theater murders and the Sandyhook elementary school mass murders.

This, all of it, is madness writ large and running wild.  I wish I could make the words in front of you run as fast as we are spinning out of control and losing concern and care for one another. Many ask what have we become? That question has a simple answer. We have become more afraid of living than ever before, which makes us oddly enough even more afraid of dying. I can love you, I can write it a hundred thousand times yet few would know what I meant by those three words and that is sad too.  

I write to you because I love you.

mark