Liberty

Liberty

it seemed fitting to befriend the

weeping willows when you left us

you, whose happiest laughter

caused an uprising in the rose bushes

the bees dizzy and spilling their golden

honey, the trickle creating words that

stacked themselves neatly into poems

we had no idea they were writing our

dreams until your absence illuminated

the truth about the azaleas who winked

warmly whenever we’d call your name

after bright kites whipping in a winter wind

it seemed fitting to befriend you that day

in a room full of romantic minds and

intellectual hearts, words in hand, waiting

patiently to impart a tiny piece of

themselves onto a small sliver of the

world who were willing to listen, even

with their eyes closed, and you, you

listened, you smiled, you clapped your

gentle hands, and after I took my turn

you leaned to me and said, “that was just

lovely, good work, kid” – those willows

weeping, are no substitute for you

***

My dear poet friend, Kay Liberty Wynne passed away and my heart is broken. It took me a little time to compose something in her honour. She was such a wonderful human being, funny, full of amazing stories, and so easy to be around. I am so grateful we became friends. I will cherish the time I was able to spend with her and think fondly of her often. Oh, but that laugh of hers. I will miss it the most.

In propinquity,

Nic

           

Efficient Little Stanza

Forgive me. I know it is Remembrance Day but I woke up with swollen eyes and a heavy heart, going to bed with the knowledge poetry’s Holy Grail had died. It has been a tough year, 2016, for fallen artists, important ones, but this socked me so hard I could hardly sleep. It likens to the emotions felt when I heard Gord Downie was afflicted. I knew Leonard wasn’t well but I hung on his promise that he’d live forever, the same way I always believed of my father.

I was up early. Brewed myself a cup of coffee in my ‘cup of longing’ (a souvenir I covet from his show in Halifax a few years back that changed my whole entire insides), and started writing. I apologize, as I am not as articulate today as I can and should be. I am just heartsick and saddened. All of the tributes flooding the internet helps, recalling Adam Cohen’s uplifting show at The Carleton where he performed ‘So Long, Marianne’ and I wept profusely out of my left eye the whole time refusing to breathe or else I’d blubber, shaking his hand and talking briefly about his father and his own talents: all helps.

Leonard Cohen, at 82, left the table but left behind a body of work and a resonating influence that will last even long after I’m gone. It has been such a wondrous journey, following him, learning from him, listening to him, celebrating him.

Au revoir, fallen star. I love you.   

**

Efficient Little Stanza

you left the table

I remain

under fedora brim

topping up

two fingers of rot gut

whiskey

with brackish tear-jewels

last we met

I was in a state

you reminded

me to remain

reflective

& unburdened

to make art

to take my good time

you smoked cigarettes

I glugged robust coffee

I wept  

                & you laughed

I was disheveled

& you of course

                always

dressed for ecstasy

our last meeting

                is tied up in an

efficient little stanza

                handwritten

in a moleskine journal

                for safe keeping

now

                you’ve left the table

I remain

                your old pin-striped

grey flannel jacket

                draped over my shoulders

your poetry on my tongue

               

birds on the wire

                did not warn me

you would be gone

                when I arrived

                so long, love

it’s been nice knowin’ ya

**

Remembering my literary hero today as well as all of those who have fought for our freedoms. So many emotions today. So many.

In propinquity and in Flanders Field,

Nic

Goodbye, Seamus Heaney

April 13, 1939 - August 30, 2013 

"I credit poetry for making this space-walk possible."  - Seamus Heaney

Another poet promoted to Angel status.  Seamus Heaney, thank you for all of the words you shared, words that enriched the world, words that inspired.  You will be missed.

Take some time today and read your favorite poets, past and present.  Revel in the sweet lyrical art they create.  It's a beautiful thing.

In propinquity, 

Nic