Archive for the ‘Rose’ Category

1981-04-11

Saturday, April 11th, 1981

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 —

1981-09-21

Monday, September 21st, 1981

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 —

1981-10-08

Thursday, October 8th, 1981

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 —