Adulting

Lights, camera, action

Part-time jobs and full time classes

The cheap apartments

Shared by three or more

Shabby sofas, drafty windows

Stuffed with yesterday’s news

But nobody noticed or nobody cared

When we were young

And full of exuberance

Dancing, spinning

Performing for each other

In our too cool, thrift store clothes

Saved our cash for the hair salon

And army surplus boots

Looking for the next thrill

In late nights and lazy mornings

Each one a version of the other

Playing on repeat

Running around in circles

Like the records on the turntable

Everyone’s a player

And the beat goes on

A mass of undulating bodies

Like a murmuration of starlings

Moving almost as one

It’s joy of life unbounded

Until the break of dawn

But youth is nimble and fleet footed

And time is cruel but fair

Shows no pity for the partygoers

Burning the candle at both ends

As the house lights come up

Show those tiny lines and wrinkles

It’s last call once and for all

Grow up baby, morning’s here…

*Galway is a city full of students, just beginning their journeys, finding their way. They’re so full of life and free of care … at least on the surface. Oh, to be young again without the burdens and responsibilities that adulthood places upon us. Carpe diem! Seize the day! The time goes quickly and you never get it back.

Take These Chains

Some wonderful words from my friend Roger today. Reblogged with his permission.

rogermoorepoet

IMG_0196.JPGThe Great Chain of Being … Happy

The Great Chain of Being, a concept applied to Medieval Literature by Arthur Lovejoy, suggested that all beings are related in hierarchical structures that link them from top to bottom in an ordered chain. I have always liked that idea and see myself as one among many voices, past, present, and hopefully future that feel and write about the joys of living on this wonderful planet that we inhabit. This thought immediately poses the question: do we write from joy or sorrow? Obviously, it depends upon the individual. Equally obviously, we can write from joy at one stage of our career and from sorrow in another stage.

Antonio Machado phrased it this way: En el corazón tenía / la espina de una pasión. / Logré arrancármela un día: / ya no siento el corazón. I felt in my heart a thorn…

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In the End

[Art and poem by Meg Sorick]

Year upon year, stacked like stones

A charnel house full of a lifetime’s bones

Storing regrets and sorrows like ancient tomes

After everything has been said and done

Wars waged and battles won

The same loneliness dwells in a cottage or a mansion