Inner Canthus

I will use gold leaf,

pulled from a picture frame

around an oil painting

where trees are bent and brooding.

They lean to touch their own roots

on the edge of a quiet stream.

Crags give unseen rays a

reason to glint, their angles placed

by a patient brush

so many generations ago.

Breathless,

our words mean nothing in this space.

There is cruelty and pleasure

in placing a tear before it

forms or falls.




M.Scofield July 30, 2008

Black and White

In a world of only black and white

I would

wear stripes

to keep from blending in.

If colors faded from our sight

and gray

became our sole contrast,

I'd leap before you to gain notice.

If darkness filled all the corners

without variance or depth,

certainly someone would sing the blues.

We need the blues.

If all we had was light and dark,

no vivids, tints or hues,

would spilled blood

stain the snow?



(c)M.Scofield July 10, 2008

Wednesday

Very busy day. Had to get up at 7, (even though it's my day off at the hospital) and get ready to teach at the Y. It's only my second week back teaching since being off for 2 weeks and my energy level isn't as high as I wish, but I think it was a good class. I only had 8 students today. Weird. Last week there were 22. It's summertime and vacations play havoc with attendance. Almost half of my people were new, so I put them through some punching drills at the end of class, almost ran out of time at the end. I didn't really want to devote so much time to stretching, anyway. I've been reading more and more that stretching may not be all it's cracked up to be. Oh well. All this reading for recertification for fitness instructor is just more hours in addition to my PA recert.

I dropped my car off at the dealer to get my new bumper and waited for the rental car guy to get HIS shit together. My reserved car wasn't available, so he had to drive me to the service place to get another one. I don't even know what I'm driving. It's white, has 4 doors and 4 wheels. I have no clue how to open the trunk. I guess I won't. I only have to drive it until Friday, I hope.

I bought a baby gift for a shower for a friend, got a new power cord for this laptop and some speakers for a stereo I found when I was cleaning out a closet for when Paul moves in. I want to be able to listen to NPR in the morning when I get ready for work and I don't want to disturb him. It's going to be a big change to have a roommate. I'm looking forward to it, though. I bought some little shorts and tops at The Gap last weekend. I guess my days of walking around the apartment in the morning without clothes are over.

That's my Wednesday. I cancelled my plans to go out tonight. Spent too much money today. That's life. I'm living it. Woohoo!

Affliction - The Frail Truant's Truth

Turning the corner, then down the hall, heels click
to announce your arrival.
I stick my book under my pillow.
Feigning sleep, I hope you'll believe I'm sick
for I am truly afflicted with contradiction.
The clock on the wall mocks me.
Tick, tick, tick.
I know the final bell rang, indicating another day closed in my absence.
I rode it out at home with nothing for company but my
wicked fear of success.

©M.Scofield May 2, 2008

For Dad 02/02/08

On February 4, 1971 three children were called into Judge's chambers at the Sedgwick County Courthouse in Wichita, Kansas. We entered one at a time. I can only tell you what happened with the eldest. At that age I was a voracious reader, having consumed nearly the entire library at Carter Elementary school and I had a habit of tagging most adults I met with an animal or bird personae. The judge looked at me over the top of his wire-rimmed spectacles. I thought he looked like an owl. He had the bushiest eyebrows I had ever seen and his jowly face seemed to be perching directly upon his black robe. When he reached for the papers on his desk, he lifted great black winged arms. He seemed friendly enough, if not particularly wise. What did I know? I was eleven.

The Owl Judge asked me two questions.

"Do you know why you are here?"

I did.

"Are you sure you want to change your last name?"

I did.

After we left the courthouse we went out to eat. I don't remember where, but we went out to eat a lot back then. It was new for our family. We'd been pretty poor before Mom married David. Now David was "Dad" and we could afford to eat in restaurants. My brothers and I were trying to get the hang of putting our napkins in our laps and eating with our mouths closed. It was hard, but we were trying. We really liked our new Dad. I think we really liked eating something other than Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, or rice with catsup and hotdogs.

Life wasn't all dinners out, though. There were adjustments. This new father wanted us to wear shoes. He wanted us in bed by nine o'clock on school nights. Suddenly there were rules. Rules stunk.

I remember times as a teen when I screeched those dreaded words, "You can't tell me what to do, you're not my real father!" I remember the look of pain that flashed across his eyes before he did whatever a father had to do.

In the years since, we've become a family. Dad has watched us struggle through school and marriage. He's been a tyrant and a teacher. We lost our Mom to illness and Dad hung in there, holding us up, struggling with his own grief distantly because he was - at the time of her death - the ex husband.

My father and I are very close now. We vacation together. He is my counselor regarding career decisions. I value the life experience he has under his belt. He has a vested interest in me and therefore his advice holds all that much more merit.

He will arrive in Houston for a visit later this week. I'll mention that this is our adoption anniversary week. He will say, "Oh, right, I almost forgot." It's the same thing each year. Neither of us will ever forget. Neither of us wants to.

Deleted. (Cellular Purge)

Intersection break.

The NPR newsman

says the market's up

but housing's in slump.

Next car over a

gangster shouts a warning

to his backseat toddler

while his bass rocks the road.

Two metro cycles

keep me sitting

through the light.

I think of leMetro.

I think of caviar and vodka.

I think of ICE and am suddenly cold.

Reaching for my phone I find your

entry and confirm that I want to

Delete?

1.Yes

The green arrow points my way west.

I follow the path homeward bound,

wrapped in the warmth of the sable sun.

Do svidania.

A Plea For Human Kind(ness)

Please, please stand up. It's not that hard, really. Just plant your feet firmly on the floor of this bus, engage your quadriceps, and push. You will rise from that seat and you will redeem your punk ass in my eyes. I don't care that you are wearing a white coat. I don't care that you have a new Littman Master Cardiology stethoscope hanging around your neck, I have one too. I see that you are studying. Your nose is practically buried in that text. But you see her. You must. Her pregnant, full belly is right in front of you, at your eye level. I don't care that she is a tech, or a nurse, or an assistant. She is pregnant. Stand up and be a man.

Please, please stop honking your horn. He is old, he has Louisiana plates on his car. He is stopped on Fannin and he is lost. He is driving through the largest medical center in the United States, in the fourth largest city in the country. He is your brother, my father, someone's son. He is a grandfather, a husband. He is a man with dignity. Is he not deserving of just ten seconds of latitude, ten seconds of patience?

Please, please accept your own truth. I heard you discount your intuition today in favor of another's desires. I am watching you sacrifice your happiness and security yet again in order to satisfy the needs of another. Determining your own rank with yourself, and defending it, is permitted and I encourage you to do so. It is the ultimate act of kindness to oneself.