In response to my friend Brian Garrity’s short story “Sirens of Franklin” in his new book “Cig”.

Go home
You all yell to the woman with the covered head
As you drive by bravely
And you all laugh again, except your heart is breaking
You yell together the N word as you pass a lone black man and you see the fear
Someone throws a beer can and it almost hits him
You see his fear, his anger
Your fear, your anger
Queer
Freak
Faggot
Fairy
Nasty mean words thrown up and out of the mouth
You yell as you drive by
Your friends
You all laugh and have another swig of beer
You, you yell your hate out, hoping somewhere inside it will go away
This is not how you want to be
You know that queer, that freak, that fairy, that faggot, that foreigner is in you
You are them
You don’t belong
You don’t want to be found out
You liked his/her dress and heels
The purse was beautiful
You envied her ability be who she was
You hated her being who she was because you can’t be who you are
The ‘boys’ want to beat her up
‘You’ want to beat her up
Beat yourself up
But no
You keep driving
Now you’re the pussy
Yes you are, but not because you won’t beat her up
You have another sip of beer and swallow everything

 

Copyright Don MacLeod

Taste of Infinity

I tasted Infinity last night
Right on the tip of my tongue
It’s sweetness was overwhelming
We danced in the moonlight of many earths
The suns were pinpricks, too many to count
The silence was deafening, but was a beautiful song
Our hearts were joy and we became one

 

 

Copyright Don MacLeod

 

The Unliving

We are the unliving
Unliving our lives
Not wanting the life we live
Doing nothing to change it
Doing nothing to break the cycle
Dragging ourselves through the day
Afraid to ask for help
Afraid to tell the truth
Fear is our constant companion
Small most days, but constant
It dictates our every word
It dictates our every decision
This small worm, an infection making us the unliving
We have to take the medicine to cure this infection
We have to take the medicine that will make us brave
That medicine is called love
It’s a powerful medicine
But it’s hard for us to swallow
We don’t think that we deserve it
We fear it’s not true
We fear
Take your medicine
Share your medicine
Receive the medicine you are given
There is an abundant supply in every breath
Encourage others to take their medicine We can not live this life in fear
This world can not live this life in fear
Love is not sex
Sex is not love
We get those confused
Love comes from the heart
Love is received by the heart
It’s time to stop this unliving
It’s time just stop this unloving
For all of us
It’s time for all of us to live our lives
It’s  time for all of us to love our lives

contemplation

Don’t let people that don’t matter, matter too much.

Are you ever disappointed in yourself and you get down and just feel like crap, like mush, and like a loser. do you ever feel like whenever you seem to get one step ahead, you get pushed back about ten steps and then you have to start climbing again.  How about those thoughts in your head, the voices saying you’re not enough, you don’t compare to other people, what you’re doing is sub-par, you’re not making an impact, you’re wasting your time and your talents. Do you ever lie in bed at night, tossing and turning wondering what tomorrow will bring.  Will you be disappointed or will you be elated, will you be singing praises or melancholy.  This life is so unpredictable. Just when you think you’ve got a handle on it all, you are quickly washed away and taken out to sea, amongst the rubble, the waves, and the storms.  There is never a break.  There is never a moment that is 100% stillness and rest.  The world keeps on moving, keeps on keeping on, and it doesn’t get easier.  It is a hard realization that life is not a piece of cake.  That is why you have to savor the good moments and know or hope that the sad moments won’t last forever. You have to find the good in yourself and others and not become too bitter about the idiotic people around you.  You have to know that you’re doing the best that you can and give yourself credit for all that you are going through and all that you have been through, and where you are in this moment.  I guess it’s never to late to make a comeback, or to find yourself smiling for no reason.  The best moments are when you’re laughing, the real type of laughing that makes your belly hurt, and then you ask yourself why was I laughing in the first place.  It’s about surrounding yourself with people you love, and people that love you.  It’s about finding solace and inner peace.  It’s about losing yourself in the moment and then coming up for air and saying today isn’t so bad after all.  It’s about being grateful and thankful, finding time to be generous with yourself and giving yourself a break to just breathe.  Today might be dark, rainy, and dreary, but the sun still shines overhead and will one day come out to light up the world and your inner soul.

The Naked Truth cont…

This is the fourth excerpt from my “The Naked Truth”. Read the first three parts first if you’ve not done so. It’ll make more sense…well maybe…ha!

I emailed the professor and she responded, she wanted to meet up so I could show her…just settle down it wasn’t like that, I was gonna show her I wasn’t a homeless pervert. We met and she seemed nice, she looked like a college art teacher, complete with the beaded eyeglass string around her neck, the homemade floor length skirt and the smell of Patchouli oil emanating from her. She invited me to model for her the following week and said it’d pay $24 bucks and hour. She went over the rules with me then, the usual stuff, no talking between the model and the students, the students aren’t allowed to have cameras or cel-phones out in class and if you are a guy you aren’t allowed to have a hard-on…whoa! What? Wait a minute, I know I am not still in junior high but there are some things that just aren’t in our control as a guy. You know, like saying things to our wives we know we shouldn’t say but don’t realize we are saying them until they have left our dumb ass mouths, or trying not to spell your name in the snow after you’ve been drinking because otherwise there would really be no goddamn reason for sitting in that little frozen ice shack in the middle of some big fucking lake all day.

I took that job, and they even gave me a free parking space. When I showed up the first night I had my bag with sandals, and a robe. The college is an old college and the art studio looked like one of those depicted in the classical paintings. It had high vaulted ceilings with ornate trim and huge chandeliers. Darkly stained Oak wood everywhere and the models place was on a stage at one end of the room. On the stage there sat a bar stool, an old wood and leather chair; the stuffing of which was protruding from the bottom, and an even much older fabric chaise lounge. Just as I was trying to decide which might be safest from ass sweat and other congealed substances the professor offered me a fresh sheet, I was elated to say the least. Then she pointed to a door in the far corner of the room and stated that is where I would undress and prepare. Now up until this point I’ve never really needed any preparation for getting undressed, but apparently it is a major figure modeling faux pas to take off your street clothes in front of art students, unless I had supposed I was getting dollar tips and conducting lap dances…yeah, wasn’t gonna happen. When I opened the door I realized it wasn’t much of a dressing room, in fact it was actually a handicap elevator closet, it had a single strung up light bulb and standing there I could see down through another open door and into another classroom. This was fantastic I thought. I had a wooden stool to sit on and a nail to hang my clothes from and the draft coming up from down below was enough to chaff me…down below, not to mention the draft of air was cold and this caused the King to retreat with all his compadres, I damn near had to dig him out of my stomach, this would not be a good first impression.

I could hear the professor instructing the class as to what to concentrate on for their initial painting, I’ve got to be honest I was pretty nervous, so I tried to look aloof as I began setting myself up, and as I dropped my robe and bent over to push it aside I hear…“this is our model Tracy for the evening, thank you Tracy”, a silence grew loud over the students as I realized I’d just given every young student in the classroom a perfect view of the full moon. Chuckles ensued and I tried desperately to gain composure before turning round. I just stood there trying to picture some Greek statue in my head so as to emulate it for a pose, so I picked the famous statue of David. Everybody knows that statue right? You can picture it, chiseled abs, sculpted arms and shoulders; yeah I didn’t exactly pull that one off; though I had both arms I also had 30 years on the guy and it was the end of summer so I looked like one of those pigs that are half black and half pink; I had the road crew farmers tan from hell.

to be cont…

The Naked Truth Part Three (3)

This is the third excerpt from my “The Naked Truth”. Read the first two parts first if you’ve not done so. It’ll make more sense…well maybe…ha!

I emailed the professor and she responded, she wanted to meet up so I could show her…just settle down it wasn’t like that, I was gonna show her I wasn’t a homeless pervert. We met and she seemed nice, she looked like a college art teacher, complete with the beaded eyeglass string around her neck, the homemade floor length skirt and the smell of Patchouli oil emanating from her. She invited me to model for her the following week and said it’d pay $24 bucks and hour. She went over the rules with me then, the usual stuff, no talking between the model and the students, the students aren’t allowed to have cameras or cel-phones out in class and if you are a guy you aren’t allowed to have a hard-on…whoa! What? Wait a minute, I know I am not still in junior high but there are some things that just aren’t in our control as a guy. You know, like saying things to our wives we know we shouldn’t say but don’t realize we are saying them until they have left our dumb ass mouths, or trying not to spell your name in the snow after you’ve been drinking because otherwise there would really be no goddamn reason for sitting in that little frozen ice shack in the middle of some big fucking lake all day.

I took that job, and they even gave me a free parking space. When I showed up the first night I had my bag with sandals, and a robe. The college is an old college and the art studio looked like one of those depicted in the classical paintings. It had high vaulted ceilings with ornate trim and huge chandeliers. Darkly stained Oak wood everywhere and the models place was on a stage at one end of the room. On the stage there sat a bar stool, an old wood and leather chair; the stuffing of which was protruding from the bottom, and an even much older fabric chaise lounge. Just as I was trying to decide which might be safest from ass sweat and other congealed substances the professor offered me a fresh sheet, I was elated to say the least. Then she pointed to a door in the far corner of the room and stated that is where I would undress and prepare. Now up until this point I’ve never really needed any preparation for getting undressed, but apparently it is a major figure modeling faux pas to take off your street clothes in front of art students, unless I had supposed I was getting dollar tips and conducting lap dances…yeah, wasn’t gonna happen. When I opened the door I realized it wasn’t much of a dressing room, in fact it was actually a handicap elevator closet, it had a single strung up light bulb and standing there I could see down through another open door and into another classroom. This was fantastic I thought. I had a wooden stool to sit on and a nail to hang my clothes from and the draft coming up from down below was enough to chaff me…down below, not to mention the draft of air was cold and this caused the King to retreat with all his compadres, I damn near had to dig him out of my stomach, this would not be a good first impression.

I could hear the professor instructing the class as to what to concentrate on for their initial painting, I’ve got to be honest I was pretty nervous, so I tried to look aloof as I began setting myself up, and as I dropped my robe and bent over to push it aside I hear…“this is our model Tracy for the evening, thank you Tracy”, a silence grew loud over the students as I realized I’d just given every young student in the classroom a perfect view of the full moon. Chuckles ensued and I tried desperately to gain composure before turning round. I just stood there trying to picture some Greek statue in my head so as to emulate it for a pose, so I picked the famous statue of David. Everybody knows that statue right? You can picture it, chiseled abs, sculpted arms and shoulders; yeah I didn’t exactly pull that one off; though I had both arms I also had 30 years on the guy and it was the end of summer so I looked like one of those pigs that are half black and half pink; I had the road crew farmers tan from hell.

to be cont…

The God we pray to

The God we pray to is the God of our pagan forefathers.
The God we pray to is the God of myths.
We do not pray to the true God.
We pray to the God of our ideas, of our religions
We pray to the God that we believe is like Santa Claus granting our wishes
We pray to a God in heaven so far away
We say that God is omnipresent, but we don’t really believe it
God is in heaven so far away
This is the God of our pagan forefathers
The true God is not so far away
Our true God is close
God being omnipresent, is then within every atom of our being
Not far away in Heaven
Why have we forsaken God and put him so far away
When our God is ever present in every breath, in every day, in every moment
When we, pray it’s assuming a separation
As if God doesn’t know our every want, our every desire, our every need
We pray because we feel lost
We pray with hope that we are not alone
We pray that there is a connection to God
Then what should we pray
We pray that we see
We pray that we see God close
We pray that we see God so close that God is all we see
We pray that we see the world through God’s eyes
We pray that we see God not so far away

Copyright Don MacLeod