SamadhiMuse

         Another time…another moment
           with indelible written on it
           the strobe flash of recognition
         amid the mindless progressions of moments…the day to day.

         A lifetime’s change point bridging time and insignificance
           it brings to ground against the quiet paper.

         I run so hard most times and think so little
           our world’s going to hell in a hundred ways
         and my loved ones and I wait near naked against its caprice
           nothing so precious here as their moments and their love
         and so much seems to escape me
           so much.

                                    gallagher
                                    14 Feb 1981

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

            I’d like to write of love
            but I don’t know what to say.
            The feelings run so deep
            my words cannot convey.
            Drink of it the fullest draught
            these moment’s press the heart.
            Outlined against the measured play
            of certain clocks, entropic clay
            the light that burns from love’s release
            is the light that gives our hope belief.
                                    gallagher
                                    28 Mar 1981
                                    after seeing ‘The Jazz Singer’
                                    with Rose in San Diego

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

         I hope this life sustains Rose.
           This one of coming and going
         this love for a week and then
           wait for two.
         I think of Chris and I’m always
           amazed at my thoughts
         small person with eyes
           of such potential and trust
         Loving Danny grew on me
           like the ivy that overcame the church
         but Chris has been a storm
           ever since Rose and I gave him his life.
         I hope she holds on
           all my life, or hers.
         Its the only feeling I have
           that runs deeper
              than the joy of living
           and its pleasures
              amen.
         I’ve been so reckless with it
           and I’ve been so lucky.
                              gallagher
                              11 apr 1981
                              Vancouver, B.C.

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

         I find no contradiction
           in loving women and loving Rose
         but I’m not sure I could ever
           explain it to her though I’ve tried.
         I’ve pressed her flesh and held her eyes
           amid the months and names
              the love and the pain.
         Someplace deep
           I always hope I’ve convinced her
         but I know the changing seasons
           of her faith too well.
                              gallagher
                              11 Apr 1981
                              Vancouver, B.C.

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

         Sometimes I go so deep within myself
           and see so shallowly into others
         as if I was the only one who felt
           or imagined
              or rejoiced
                 or thought.
         Clear my eyes that I might see
           the wondrous child that lives within each of us
              and cross the bridges that words and relationships
                 can never span.
         That deep something that burns
           deep inside of each of us
         amid doubt and habits for only the certain touch
           of another who’s awake … and cares.
                           gallagher
                           18 July 81
                           SJC

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

          I reach for my feelings
          and try to give them form in words
          to capture the moments
          when I rise above the stream of my life’s history
          and gaze with horror or rapture
          on the forms I’ve invested my life in.
          Less these days do I rise…
          so tight have drawn the habits
          of the things and the people I love.
          There’s no measure
          by which my life is not adequate
          and yet, somewhere inside,
          I still turn restless
          wanting the ice water shock of everything new
          that maximum becoming
          that must arise from starting as nothing.
          The love is not so bad these days…Rose and my children
          I’ve never been more blessed
          and she, she loves me enough
          to let me have my time and space alone.
          More these months I turn restless against my work
          I remember realizing sometime ago
          the difference between
          the absorption of creativity
          and the mire of baroque detail.
                                 gallagher
                                 21 September 1981
                                 sjc

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

         Sometimes late at night, I sit up and wonder…
           scenes of Rose and our houses … Danny’s growing
              and all my unrest in the midst of plenty
                 flow by.
         I think, these times, that I can almost grasp
           what it was that made my mother an alcoholic.
              When I look at my picked and chewed fingers
                 and my life’s restless turning.
         I wonder if there’s something I can do
           on these sleepless nights
              turning over my memories
                 and imagining my possible futures
         For all my thinking about my life and its purpose
           I’m more driven that driver here
         And for all my attention to the wind’s subtle nuances
           I find myself on the bitter edge of my love’s loss
              too many times.
                                    gallagher
                                    8 Oct 81
                                    Vancouver, B.C.

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

         Our lives are made fragile by the things that we love
           and the years our love brings to bear.
         Chris lay sleeping as I prepared to leave
           and I stood and stared thru the bars of his crib.
         He loves me to tickle him and his eyes shine as he squeals
           and he can say ‘Da-dee’ and does, again and again.
         Some place from far back inside of me
           as I looked watching him sleep
         I thought of how fragile are all of our lives.
           The patterns of security, comfort and association we erect
         against these wars and illnesses, crimes and disasters…
           none of them are less real, because we love.
         Its just that my perception
           of how life and its vagaries comes together
         with our love and its attachments
           has sharpened with age.
         As the blunders of youth’s mania
           and other distortions fall away
         and I see the ‘human condition’ more,
           and I cringe at how naked we stand.
         But Chris didn’t know … even that I was leaving
           his blankets and thumb and baby fat warmth
              defined the world he knows.
                                    gallagher
                                    29 Nov 1981
                                    LAX, Vancouver bound

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —