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Grief & Looking at the Stars

Grief & Looking at the Stars

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Published by Robin Rule
I'm not sure if this is a poem or an essay.
I'm not sure if this is a poem or an essay.

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Published by: Robin Rule on Apr 06, 2011
Copyright:Traditional Copyright: All rights reserved

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04/07/2011

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Grief & Looking at the Stars-Obit for James Rogers, American PainterThis place here is my old tree hollow dug out bythe rain over many years until, I can curl up &close my eyes or look up at the stars & count theones with tails. I've been depressed. No, Ihaven't. I've just been so sad, so effin’ sad;it's an ache in my side, like I've run too far,too fast. It’s that gnawing in the bowels a ratin my gut would make, working his way out.It hasn't been a Christ-like pain; I don't creditmyself with that. It's a very human sort of stitchin the side. It's the pain of loss & I know it'shuman, cuz I can name it. I can take this needle &this thread here & embroider a name across thecloth, you see, that’s how I know it’s human cuz Ican name it.One of my best friends died and it’s a stitch inthe side like I was running too fast. Like thestitches closing the pacemaker into my chest aretoo tight. I know it will lessen with every day;it already has, and I thank G-d Who has beenpatient w/ my self-indulgence.I thank Daniel who wrestles lions between innings.For his loving patience and I know he loved Jamestoo, after all they grew up two blocks away in
 
North Hollywood and didn’t even know it. But how toyou meet someone and not recognize the sidewalksmell on them when it’s rained just a little bitand all the boys have taken off the their shirtsand whooped whooped whooped like Hollywood Indiansbecause the sun always shines in Hollywood and alittle rain on the face and their young chestsfeels mighty fine to a boy.My skin that touches the pen right now is touchinga cactus needle and there is no way out of thisgross reality; it’s all goth-punk without thebeauty of the Sheba; it’s the harsh mosh-pit agonyof high heels stepping on my ballet arches andtears bringing kohl down my cheeks, it’s all socheap grade B movie actress. Girls and women don’thave the release that boys have with their shoutingforth and tossing balls staright up into heavenwith
Hiya James
slyly written on it for the future…For girls in the 21
st
century, there is no beauty togrieve with herelike in the Victorian days of quietthrough starvation & first a black dress & then alilac one & then white and I just don’t feel likegoing there. I don’t feel like asking someone tobutton me up. I’ve been here before. I alwayswondered who died for Emily Dickenson.But I’m tired of coming to this place. O Daniel…I know you have too, once upon a time.
 
I wannna break something hard, a brick wall,a porcelain doll’s head, into a thousand pieces.I wanna do it ugly because death makes me feel thatway. Let me learn to lie down with flowers.Let me learn to wrap myself in ferns.I ask you why not the B&E artist from down theblock or the wife-beater from next door.Why is it the good guys gotta go, I wonder,as I curl up inside the pungent earth of my smallcave and pound the sides of earth like a mortar andpestle until the cave grows bigger, at least bigenough to be comfortable in, curled up in, like ananimal.It was just so unexpected. I know he smoked,he drank a bit. He ate crappy food. But he knewgood natural haute cuisine too. He was an artist,so he threw stuff in the toaster ovenand ate it standing up if he had a really goodproject going. Incorporating the moleculesof the fields with the corpuscles of the body.James and I had the kind of friendshipthat was not messed up by sex.We could be holy-silly, following Ginsberg’stypewriter…

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1 hundred reads
Carl F Maulbeck added this note
this is rtesting assured - "but never fear, we willremember each other and it will be with delightthat we wave madly across the night sky," - excellent, robin
Mary Yuhas added this note
How beautiful! I love it, Robin! I'm going to name some stars after my late husband, John; my grandbaby, Alex; my Dad and my brother. My mom too. Thanks for this. I'll tweet it! Wonderful! Really grabbed my heart.
Sal Page added this note
Sometimes the missing comes with a smile. Sometimes it comes with much sadness. It's remembrance and imagination that keeps Bob with me and mostly keeps me smiling.
Shyam Adrift added this note
everyone must depart.. sorry for your loss, Robin. life moves on.
Carl F Maulbeck liked this

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