Writing a note

'Writing a note'                                        timothy r gates, 8/18/2013

Writing a note
more difficult than writing a letter,
though such are ghosts these days.
special paper
special pens,
often with a minimalist sketch
(always kept ink refills,
cartridges for my favorite ballpoint
bottles of indigo and black for my fountain gold point)
Writing a note
saying the same thing,
yet more with less
not simply a 'I love you,' my friend
not giving a missive of a didactic on theosophy -
(knowing that this would communicate,
be interpreted, be a literary hello and hug,
one to a friend that would do the same)
Writing a note
celebrates our knowing,
and not knowing
grateful for the notes
grateful for friends who write them
(looking at the pens and papers,
those used for letters,
I smile,
happy that they work well for notes as well)
Then I pause,
books, papers, letters
they are all notes having been birthed -
all grown up.

Mother, come home

Agni Parthene - Oh Pure Virgin Orthodox hymn sung by Eikona - performed in greek and english.
"Mother, come home"                      timothy r gates, 8/15/2013
ruddy hued teen
grinned at her baby boy,
Yes, crying he made,
wiping away his tears
tasting the saltiness,
"My lord,"
in time we'd hear,
"My mother."
Bigots,
religious and political,
murdered her boy,
forgetting the little girl
playing where only men,
certain high priests,
once prayed -
they killed her only son.
a few other women,
a young John,
a couple other Mary's,
Joseph and Nicodemus -
the rest of their friends,
save for one remorseful suicide,
ran and hid.
Friends and family came to her side
blessed repose
laid out for a full Kaddish.
Her only son does what she couldn't,
in her typical minimalism,
we hear a whisper
a tear's baptism -
"Mother, come home."

forgive, forget

"Stand at the brink of the abyss of despair, and when you see that you cannot bear it anymore, draw back a little, and have a cup of tea." ~Elder Sophrony of Essex
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I_REKYCqXQ8&sns=fb 

'forgive, forget' timothy r gates, 7/27/2013

Sun setting
Sun rising,
"I'm sorry,"
a fist, touch, caress
... comes,
no wonder
magical words,
"Blessed are the children,
because such are the
kingdom of heaven"
exorcise hope of
a wizard better than
"The great and powerful."
a boy, still a boy,
scared shitless
doesn't stand up.
the boy, still a boy,
sixteen, stands up!
told God for years,
Jesus seems to have
forgot this
in the plan.
preachers and therapists,
accusingly, twist his heart,
"Forgive and forget."
a man, still a boy,
scarred,
forgave.
"forget,"
demanded by thick-headed,
pontificators,
well meaning a-holes,
no doubt having
no desired memory lapses.
"Yes, though I walk
through the valley
of the shadow of death,
yet i will fear no evil."
Yes,
and when forgetting
won't open a door
needing forgiveness,
then "Never forget!"
may have its funeral.

Lucifer or Hope's worthy

'Lucifer' or 'Hope's worthy'               timothy r gates, 8/1/2013

Day Star,
Morning Light
crown of angels in flight,
free soaring.
lost.
all accuse,
"fallen from your heights,
dark lord,
betrayer and accuser
of the children of light."
Assyrian lord,
metaphor for narcissus hymns,
Ego sings to himself,
"I Am the I Am,
adore me,
chant my praises --
oops, sounds familiar."
pontificators forget,
chaining Lucifer,
calling him, "Satan, and The Devil,"
should know angels' wings
do not melt -
angels' light may be covered,
yet it ceases not.
Angels soar.
Lucifer is their diamond.
Hope knows no blessed repose.
Anaxios is not forever.
Axios, faith's still small voice.
Hearing,
is in between the
breaths.

heaven's a lonely place

'heaven's a lonely place'                           timothy r gates, 8/6/2013

into a mountain's cloud
jesus needed alone time
only his mother knew
how to incline her ear,
understood silence's knife,
we hear what we want
until we listen,
smoke needs not to clear
seeing is not believing.
heaven's a lonely place
if a friend's wordless hug
leaves you not knowing,
unable to hear a stream's
rippling.
some angel's wings
are like morning pigeons.
other angels fly,
the only wings seen
are those painted,
only thing noting their flights.

Romantic interlude

'Romantic interlude'                 timothy r gates, 8/7/2013

people helping people,
pretty and ugly,
feeling it but not admitting a whisper,
rib cages covered by yesterday's clothes
50,000 dollar cars, not owned, pretending
Jesus lovers, Buddha lovers
some merely in awe of all,
"I'm a speck in this multiple universal awe...."
Me too.
I have beheld:
a boss buy shoes for an employee to interview elsewhere
street-person empty their pockets, emptying to a "poor" family,
not homeless, living in a house where bullets are heard nightly
food kitchens and free clothing stores run by those knowing it
a smile peek through the crevasses of a lone grandma,
a four year girl merely reaches into her quivering hand.
I'm in awe, still.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eih67rlGNhU&sns=em

writing in the sand

writing in the sand.                                timothy r gates, 8/14/2013
silence speaks.
she knew her own loathing.
stone-throwers, like addicts,
blame diseases
had a support group
diverting attention from their noise
praying to their lawgiver,
ready to do god's judgment.
"you without sin throw the first stone,"
saved the accused.
stone-throwers didn't kill her,
not living up to their prowess claims -
walked away.
in their silence,
walking away
their robes brushed away
his note in the sand.

Marching to Washington

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ULuctpbU0E&sns=em
Marching to Washington                   timothy r gates, 8/17/2013
a sea of human hues,
Martin's Dream,
daydreamers
with collars, some in robes
with phylactories, some with crosses,
what we then called
white, black, yellow and red...
all precious in someone's sight.
"Human being?"
well, this is a choice.
Malcolm raises his fist
Martin bows his head
JFK quietly cheers,
all three murdered --
not all are human beings
not all choose to be humane
not all share the dream.
Watch out for those claiming
never to be bigoted,
their prayer groups include believers
their political parties include chanters.
The March
didn't require uniformity
didn't require see no, hear no, speak no evil.
it only asked us all to
Dream.
Woodstock,                                         
concert on a pig farm,
peace, love and togetherness
lived out, imperfectly
sex, drugs and rock & roll
a year later our romanticism was
murdered,
"4 Dead in O-H-I-O" -
president, governor and mayor,
blamed the kids
protesters and national guard,
A.H.'s passed the back.
Still do.
The Dream is lived.
Marching
children, adolescents
opened the doors,
"Let the sunshine in!"
old farts forget
spring love
sex in a meadow
holding hands just because,
falling in love.
and, pretend to know --
questions have been answered
faith is without doubt
everything is okay.
and say the funniest things,
"Some of my best friends are..."
"I have a dream!"
Where no one deserves more
Where no one deserves hell
Where there is one race.