Archive for the ‘Poetry Collective’ Category

1987-11-20

Friday, November 20th, 1987


   An early winter evening with
      motorcycle wind and headlights moving
   through the lights 
      of houses full of warmth.
   I open the door 
      into a darkened room
  and the sound 
     of running feet.
   She is there 
      with the smell of incense
   lighting candles 
      behind the bedroom door.

   She has George Winston's 
   music playing 
   And I feel deeply blessed  
      to see her love, 
   her playfulness, 
      her passion.
   My hands are cold from the dark ride
      and she enfolds me,
   and kisses my neck like the heat 
      from a winter wood stove.
   Such feelings of intimacy fill me.
      And in this moment 
 I am both spirit and flesh; 
   Transient, and yet imperishable.

   This washes over me ... 
   I.   am.   loved.

   So many years, 
      and so many women,
   I've passed through 
      just to gain this vision.
   Just to be able 
      to see how deep 
   her goodness, sincerity,
      and caring, are.
   I tell her this 
      and she laughs at me.

   She says it just takes some of us longer 
      than others to see the obvious.
 
 I can see that these soft experiences 
   of intimate reality are
   so much of what is real 
         and worthy in us.
   And that all the rest 
    are only the moments 
            between these moments.
   But....      but...

   These human moments of ours
      can also pass in darkness. 
   
 In jungles . ..from where gaze
     fearful hidden eyes 
  amid the scream of bullets  
      where women hide babies
 with hands covered by dirt. 
   Places of terror and death.
   And these are ours as well.
        For we are
  both the light 
    and the shadow.

   This world cannot see it's insane.

   But I will remember 
   what is real.
   And I, too, 
   will dim the room and burn incense
   for someone.
      and gather our small love 
  and peace 
   against the storm.

                                    gallagher
                                    20 Nov 87

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

2008-04-22 – Dreaming of my sons

Tuesday, April 22nd, 2008

This morning, I returned from Starbucks 
and the house was quiet
so I lay down in the bed in the guest room 
and gathered the pillows against me.

I found myself dreaming of my older son, Dan, 
and he was small, perhaps five.

He was standing on a stool 
and we were talking about something together
and, in a moment of my inattention, 
he toppled off and fell on the floor.

I picked him up, scared that he was hurt, 
and stood him on the stool again
and held him 
checking to see if he was OK.

I whispered to him that he was brave 
and that he was my very special son
and how very much I loved him 
and always would.

I told him he was growing up so fast 
and that soon he'd be 17
and grown into a man 
and that this time of ours was so precious
and I hugged him against me.

And then, as so many times before, 
I awoke surprised and saddened
to find myself 
decades into the future.

The smell of his hair, the fineness of his skin, 
the trust in his eyes,
the warmth of holding him 
and the simple and profound love of that moment
were still there, as a warmth, filling me 
though he's grown now and almost 40.

I've had this dream, or something very similar, 
many times about both my boys.
Always the love, the the treasuring 
and then the awaking and the sadness.

I treasure these secret up wellings 
of my heart's past;
these deep emotional memories 
that bind me to these boys - now men.

I would call them and tell them what I dreamt, 
but I fear they'd think me
an emotional old man having a maudlin moment 
in the midst of their busy lives.

So, I'll leave these words here 
in my collection of poetry and thoughts
and, perhaps, someday, they will find them 
and share this moment with me, then.

A moment so very precious 
and present to me now
and yet so very lost and ephemeral 
in the curtains of time.

                                                 gallagher
                                                 22 Apr 08

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

2015-10-03 – Even This….

Sunday, October 4th, 2015
 
The Camera pans across a barren beach scape
   a place seen in a moment of time. 
A wind moves empty through the scene
  and  tuffs of grass stir amid the tableau of land and sea
      that never seems to change.

Dead friends walk there amid the multitudes
   that have come and gone.
Their names transient; like the stirring grass
   beneath the moving bowl of a never ending sky.

Truly, we are not here - we only imagine we are.

And the more one is here, the less one is,
   until the edges of your beginnings and endings
begin to blur like the impossibility
   of separating one unchanging day from the next.

Quiet descends on the dead 
   and they go we know not where.
And, in our deep meditations we pursue them;
   rivers circling between the sea and the sky.

The turning of life's wheel is mostly about
   the enduring, mutating and evolving patterns of DNA
and so very little about the names and dreams
   of the momentary instantiations that we are.

And yet we are here 
   with our names and thoughts
and yet we are here 
   with our philosophies and our meanings.

We watch the sand and the dust of each other
   blow away in time's erosion
and yet even this,
   even this can be embraced.

gallagher
03 October 2015
Christchurch, New Zealand

— Copyright 1965-2015 by Dennis Gallagher —