Death, Friends, Life, Living, Love, Lovers, Muses, Resilience, Terese, Teresums

The Rebirth

To my friend, Terese Bozdas.

Once I stood on the trembling ice
Of a mountain torrent in winter
Surrounded by granite boulders
And dared the wild waters to drown me.

I had lost my wife.
I had lost my home.
I had lost my hopes.
I had lost my dreams.
And I dared the wild ice
Beneath me to break.

It is curious how you can sometimes
Be so numb the desire to die
Is the only thing
That makes you feel alive.

It was only when you came to me
Some years later

Singing songs of friendship,
Singing songs of compassion,

That I felt at last
The rebirth, the renewal
Of Spring.

Anupriya Kumari, Authenticity, Being True To Yourself, Death, Eudaimonia, Free Spirit, Goals, Human Nature, Ideas, Impermance, Josh, Life, Living, Meaning, Nature, Play, Purpose, Quality of Life, Self-Flourishing, Spirituality, The Art of Living Well, Well Being

The Meaning and Purpose of Defiance

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY:  Paul offers his views on the meaning and purpose of life.

THE CRITICS EJACULATE! “The Grand Fraud of Blogging American, Paul Sunstone, excretes his opinions about the meaning and purpose of life in what can only be considered a shameless act of public urination.  Life is fully terrifying enough without the addition of his muddled and confused vision for embracing it.  I must insist upon the return of the guillotine.  I must insist upon the return of justice to our world.” — Aloyse Leblanc, Le Critique Passionné de Blog, “La Tribune Linville”, Linville, France.

Continue reading “The Meaning and Purpose of Defiance”

Alison, Love, Poetry

A Flock of Sparrows for Majel: Forty Years Ago and Last Night

A Flock of Sparrows for Majel

(About a 2 minute read)

I. Forty Years Ago

I lie awake into the heart of a soft summer night,
Listening to the cicada shove life forward,
Beat upon beat, until their wild, shrill drumming
Is swallowed silent as a memory into time,

Then begins. Again.

And I remember Alison.

I lie awake into the heart of a soft summer night,
Listening to the cicada shove life forward,
Beat upon beat, until their wild, shrill drumming
Is swallowed silent as a memory into time,

Then begins. Again.

And I remember Alison.

Once a woman passed this way
Into the heart of a long ago summer,
On the wild, shrill scream of a generation then alive.
In their ending silence I became nothing, no more

Than my name.

I became numb.

II. Last Night

You know how it goes,
You meet people, good people,
Company for awhile.

They fall away,

Each one falls away.

One reason after another,

They fall away.

You gave up playing Twister with them long ago.
You no longer try to change your core
To fit inside their skins,
You’re not looking for a twin anymore.

One night you’re thinking about her
Was she the hinge, the turning point?

The first person you ever loved?

Yeah, she was the first person you ever loved.
And tonight maybe you’re finally seeing it true.

Maybe, you think — the thought comes too slow —
Maybe she was the only one who could have walked
The distance, the whole distance of your life
With you.
Why the did you leave her?

Why the hell did you leave her?

Does she have nights like you have nights now?
Did you betray not just your love,
But both your loves?

Maybe she didn’t love you all.
Wouldn’t that be better than you betrayed her?

But you can not believe now
— not now —
— not this night —
That she didn’t love you.

There is no refuge.
There is no salvation.
There is only the truth.

You would only go numb
If you ran again
From the truth.

Art, Honesty, Literature, Poetry, Quotes, Shreya Vikram, Wisdom, Writing

“Shy Writers Die.”

“Shy writers die.”  — Shreya Vikram (in an email to Paul Sunstone).

“The moment you feel that, just possibly, you’re walking down the street naked, exposing too much of your heart and your mind and what exists on the inside, showing too much of yourself.  That’s the moment you may be starting to get it right.”  — Neil Gaiman.

Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Love, Physical Abuse, Tara Lynn, Verbal Abuse

“Jame Loves Rachel to Death”

Tara Lyn had an expression, a turn of phrase.  She would speak of “loving someone to death”.  It was almost her only way of saying, “love someone well and truly”.

“Jamie loves Rachel to death.”

“Chris loves me to death.”

I do not recall ever much caring for that way of putting things, but as her initially charming new boyfriend began to abuse her, and as his abuse of her progressed from verbal and emotional abuse into beatings, her casual use of the words became terrifying.

In the end, to hear her words was like being throat-punched while knowing yet another blow was coming in a moment.

Abuse, Butch, Courtship, Friends, Life, Living, Love, Lovers, New Love, Philos, Poetry, Rae, Relationships, Resilience, Romantic Love, The Art of Living Well

A Flock of Sparrows for Majel: Butch and Rae, Rae and Butch

A Flock of Sparrows for Majel

(About a 2 minute read)

A kind man,
Butch’s dad did his best
To raise his seven kids.
On a hundred and fifty acres,

It was bottom land,
Rich and deep,
But it wasn’t enough,
He never got ahead.

He never got ahead
And worked himself to death,
The death of a kind man.

Continue reading “A Flock of Sparrows for Majel: Butch and Rae, Rae and Butch”

Alyssa Holmes, Amanda Reilly Sayer, Anupriya Kumari, Friends, God(s), Jane Paterson Basil, Love, Lovers, Marysa, New Love, Outstanding Bloggers, People, Poetry, Relationships, Romantic Love, Shreya Vikram, Terese, Teresums

A Flock of Sparrows for Majel: No Returns on Lost Hearts

A Flock of Sparrows for Majel

(About a 3 minute read)

I beseech thee! I, a wretched beggar, beseech thee!
In the hour of Marissa’s crisis, in the hour of her darkness,
I beseech thee! I beseech You whose lowly latrine
Is not only infinitely above me, but is thoughtfully plumbed
To drain into my life.

You who are sacred, holy, and divine
You who are the Twisted Circus Clowns Above Us All
Have mercy upon my friend Marissa,
Have mercy on her, you Clowns!
For Marissa has lost her heart, her only heart —

And tragically, her heart has been found by mine.

They won’t, Marissa. They won’t help you at all.

Trust me, I know the Clowns,
I’ve seen them with my own wisdom.
It’s always good to pray in times of crisis
But the Clowns won’t answer prayers.
I do it for tradition, Marissa.
My prayers for you are just formalities.
I only pray for the sake of tradition.

Continue reading “A Flock of Sparrows for Majel: No Returns on Lost Hearts”