Archive for the ‘1985’ Category

1985-03-19

Tuesday, March 19th, 1985
               Copying the poems and letters
               Kathy wrote me in 1979 and 1980,
               I realized just how strongly
               she loved me.
               We were both blind with lovers
               and goals and passion, then.
               She was so much like me
               in female form
               that I could never
               trust her completely.
               Now the years have passed
               and our paths have crossed again
               and, reading these things here,
               I see what kin and love were there.
               My fantasies run now; her and Rose,
               how...how can they both be in my life?
               I want to say,
               'Kathy, come, I see now what you were,
               I should not have let you go...'
               But my family comes before my eyes.
               Love is joy and agony, both.
               If I could have it as I wish
               I'd have them both...in two houses or one.
               I can love two, it's never been at doubt
               but...could such a thing work....
                                    gallagher
                                    19 mar 85

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1985-03-26

Tuesday, March 26th, 1985
         Got lines crossing
           got faces and places walking
              through my future
         Got fate about to give birth
           in a node point closure
         And I ... I raise my hands
           and feel the tension
         as potentials and my futures
           rearrange
              here, midway.
                              gallagher
                              26 mar 85

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —

1985-03-28

Thursday, March 28th, 1985
            Rich beyond all measure
            we stand blind in the midst.
            The light of God shines through us
            and around us in every form
            and we go aching
            from mood to mood
            and place to place
            in search of His peace and joy.
            He must smile with compassion
            at children such as we
            who, in the wheat fields of His love,
            cannot find the harvest
            nor simply love the sun.
                              gallagher
                              28 March 1985
            after yet another listening of Gibran's, The Prophet.

— Copyright 1965-2008 by Dennis Gallagher —