Progress
I would love to see a Neanderthal staring at an iPhone XR.
That would be such a great shot for my latest Instagram.
Maybe he or she would use it to carve through some sinew.
Bash it against the cliff face, and throw it into a cavehole.
Reception was always bad out here anyway.
I would love to see a stegosaurus eating dinner, glancing
sideways at the "funk" [default] sound of an incoming text.
Tripped a bit to the right but regained himself... kept eating.
Glanced upward as a pterodactyl passed, swatting away an
evolving human as the latter raised a rough-hewn dagger.
I would love to see a student, of any kind, enrolled anywhere
that could sit in a Starbucks for three minutes, and you know
that their parents have all of their fingers and toes crossed,
hoping against hope that their children know something,
about anything -- I would love to see that person ----
switch off their devices devoted to the attainment of stupidity,
turn to their friend with the highlighter on auto-pilot, and say
in the most diplomatic of tones, "Listen....
I've only got one shot at this thing. Please quit talking.
Please shut your shit off, or we are going to be dinosaurs again."
© Ciprianowords, Inc. 2018
Monday, October 29, 2018
Sunday, October 07, 2018
I See The Sun Rising
But how do you see it?
You know, in the midst of all this
I am going to see the sun rising.
You have a different horizon in mind.
In mind -- there never was any light.
Everything was less than a shadow.
Forgive me if my eyes are better.
Forgive me if they always have been.
Forgive me as I adjust the fool's cap.
Listen, as the physicist explains to us
that the sun, as a new day dawns
has never, ever, moved.
Realize, for the love of God,
that as wrong as we both are,
I am less wrong. I was less wrong.
© Ciprianowords, Inc. 2018
But how do you see it?
You know, in the midst of all this
I am going to see the sun rising.
You have a different horizon in mind.
In mind -- there never was any light.
Everything was less than a shadow.
Forgive me if my eyes are better.
Forgive me if they always have been.
Forgive me as I adjust the fool's cap.
Listen, as the physicist explains to us
that the sun, as a new day dawns
has never, ever, moved.
Realize, for the love of God,
that as wrong as we both are,
I am less wrong. I was less wrong.
© Ciprianowords, Inc. 2018
Saturday, September 08, 2018
All The Shiny Faces
All The Shiny Faces
Arrival:
"I don't know if I, if we, would have been able to live through such a thing."
Sue reached out and placed her hand on his, still on the gearshift. They watched as others filing into the chapel greeted each other, a few having a final smoke. The shaking of hands, no smiles. Boiling clouds threatened rain, and Mark made a mental note to skip the interment ceremony as he turned to his wife and said, "Hon, the worst thing is that there is no 'we' for her. She's got to go through all of this pretty much on her own. If it's hard for us to be here today, just think of what's happening with..."
"I know. I know. I don't want to think of it. Let's just get in there before we're walking through mud. Jesus Christ, this seems like the worst day of my life, let alone.... dammit..."
They sprinted, double blips of the car locks engaging as the first thunderclap reverberated against the surrounding hills, making it to the held open door as the first drops hit the ground.
Inside:
Taking their seats at the very back was all they could do. Some people remained standing, having arrived just after them, piped-in music already playing. Sue unwound her scarf and settled in as one by one, friends of the deceased spoke of the only one present who would never speak another word upon this earth.
A pine box was the focus of every bleary eye, as though every atrocity perpetrated on the planet were brought to focus for these few moments only upon that lonely square footage.
"When I first met Rachel, I knew that we were going to become best friends...."
"And there we were, at the very edge of the Grand Canyon, and I will never forget it, she turned and said to me..."
"We had every intention to marry. The ring I gave her is with her right now, inside.... I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I can't...."
A young woman arose and made her way to the piano, and the introductory notes of one of the most beloved hymns of all time filled the entire hall as yet one more peal of thunder, quietly in the distance, announced itself -- and she sang out --
"A-a-a-maaa-zi-ing grace, how swee-ee-t, the sound.
Tha-aa-at saved, a"
"No. NO. Not amazing," a woman rising in the first pew wailed
"Oh my God, Mark," Sue leaned into his shoulder and burst into tears.
The pianist stopped, looking up in horror as the woman continued, "My daughter was murdered. She was CUT DOWN at the age of nineteen. What kind of a GOD," and with this she flung her black umbrella at the lectern on the podium and it clattered back down across the coffin lid, "are we singing about here?"
The pastor quickly motioned the nearest ushers to apprehend the grieving mother but others nearer had already surrounded her, and as the congregation looked on she was removed beyond the door of the vestibule where all but her voice was gone. He approached the lectern palms forward as moans and grief-stricken sobbing erupted from every row in the church. The girl at the piano hung her head so low that it struck the keys and she fell to the floor in a faint. Still, from beyond the vestibule door the mother could be heard weeping.
After several minutes, the rain now drumming slantwise on the stained glass windows, the pastor, wiping his eyes and coughing several times, finally managed to speak.
"Friends. Friends. People."
Ushers gathered up the pianist into a sitting position in the front pew.
"Friends and family. We have gathered here today to mourn [flash and thunder] the tragic loss of someone very dear to all of us. With what has taken place just now it would be an understatement to say that we are all shaken to the very core of who we are, and our thoughts and prayers are going out right now to Rachel's mother, whose grief surpasses what any of us can imagine as possible for any human being to endure. Out of respect for the expression of her feelings, I wish to retire my own message that I had prepared for this service."
And with this he retrieved a few sheets of paper from a little black folder and cast them forward where they fluttered down to rest near the umbrella which now lay on the floor near the casket. "For, truth be known, her words were the very ones I fought against as I prepared my brief sermon to bring to you today. It would be a dishonor and a profound disservice for me to publicly superimpose my own contrived thoughts upon something that she would have said to you herself, in privacy."
He then followed with directions to the cemetery and instructions as to a luncheon that would take place later, closing with this:
"The Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make His face shine upon you, and be gracious to you. The Lord lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace."
Departure:
At least the rain had abated. The wipers were on automatic intermittent.
Sue's face was more wet than the windshield. In fact, she could not stop crying.
Mark reached his right hand out to hers.
"I was proud of that pastor," he said. "I mean, what else could he really say, after what Ellen said? You know, a single mother, struck by the hammer of Thor, basically. What the hell are you supposed to say after that?"
"I know. I thought the same thing. But even while he was trying to salvage the whole thing, I was only thinking of Ellen, crumpled in a heap in that back room. I barely could register what was being said by anyone after she threw that umbrella."
"I think he kind of ruined it a bit at the end though, if you want my honest opinion."
"What do you mean?" Sue asked.
"Well, all that stuff about the shiny faces. It's like, what is it really going to take? What is it really going to take before we quit ending everything with the God damn shiny faces stuff?"
© Ciprianowords, Inc. 2018
Arrival:
"I don't know if I, if we, would have been able to live through such a thing."
Sue reached out and placed her hand on his, still on the gearshift. They watched as others filing into the chapel greeted each other, a few having a final smoke. The shaking of hands, no smiles. Boiling clouds threatened rain, and Mark made a mental note to skip the interment ceremony as he turned to his wife and said, "Hon, the worst thing is that there is no 'we' for her. She's got to go through all of this pretty much on her own. If it's hard for us to be here today, just think of what's happening with..."
"I know. I know. I don't want to think of it. Let's just get in there before we're walking through mud. Jesus Christ, this seems like the worst day of my life, let alone.... dammit..."
They sprinted, double blips of the car locks engaging as the first thunderclap reverberated against the surrounding hills, making it to the held open door as the first drops hit the ground.
Inside:
Taking their seats at the very back was all they could do. Some people remained standing, having arrived just after them, piped-in music already playing. Sue unwound her scarf and settled in as one by one, friends of the deceased spoke of the only one present who would never speak another word upon this earth.
A pine box was the focus of every bleary eye, as though every atrocity perpetrated on the planet were brought to focus for these few moments only upon that lonely square footage.
"When I first met Rachel, I knew that we were going to become best friends...."
"And there we were, at the very edge of the Grand Canyon, and I will never forget it, she turned and said to me..."
"We had every intention to marry. The ring I gave her is with her right now, inside.... I'm sorry, I'm sorry... I can't...."
A young woman arose and made her way to the piano, and the introductory notes of one of the most beloved hymns of all time filled the entire hall as yet one more peal of thunder, quietly in the distance, announced itself -- and she sang out --
"A-a-a-maaa-zi-ing grace, how swee-ee-t, the sound.
Tha-aa-at saved, a"
"No. NO. Not amazing," a woman rising in the first pew wailed
"Oh my God, Mark," Sue leaned into his shoulder and burst into tears.
The pianist stopped, looking up in horror as the woman continued, "My daughter was murdered. She was CUT DOWN at the age of nineteen. What kind of a GOD," and with this she flung her black umbrella at the lectern on the podium and it clattered back down across the coffin lid, "are we singing about here?"
The pastor quickly motioned the nearest ushers to apprehend the grieving mother but others nearer had already surrounded her, and as the congregation looked on she was removed beyond the door of the vestibule where all but her voice was gone. He approached the lectern palms forward as moans and grief-stricken sobbing erupted from every row in the church. The girl at the piano hung her head so low that it struck the keys and she fell to the floor in a faint. Still, from beyond the vestibule door the mother could be heard weeping.
After several minutes, the rain now drumming slantwise on the stained glass windows, the pastor, wiping his eyes and coughing several times, finally managed to speak.
"Friends. Friends. People."
Ushers gathered up the pianist into a sitting position in the front pew.
"Friends and family. We have gathered here today to mourn [flash and thunder] the tragic loss of someone very dear to all of us. With what has taken place just now it would be an understatement to say that we are all shaken to the very core of who we are, and our thoughts and prayers are going out right now to Rachel's mother, whose grief surpasses what any of us can imagine as possible for any human being to endure. Out of respect for the expression of her feelings, I wish to retire my own message that I had prepared for this service."
And with this he retrieved a few sheets of paper from a little black folder and cast them forward where they fluttered down to rest near the umbrella which now lay on the floor near the casket. "For, truth be known, her words were the very ones I fought against as I prepared my brief sermon to bring to you today. It would be a dishonor and a profound disservice for me to publicly superimpose my own contrived thoughts upon something that she would have said to you herself, in privacy."
He then followed with directions to the cemetery and instructions as to a luncheon that would take place later, closing with this:
"The Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make His face shine upon you, and be gracious to you. The Lord lift up His countenance upon you, and give you peace."
Departure:
At least the rain had abated. The wipers were on automatic intermittent.
Sue's face was more wet than the windshield. In fact, she could not stop crying.
Mark reached his right hand out to hers.
"I was proud of that pastor," he said. "I mean, what else could he really say, after what Ellen said? You know, a single mother, struck by the hammer of Thor, basically. What the hell are you supposed to say after that?"
"I know. I thought the same thing. But even while he was trying to salvage the whole thing, I was only thinking of Ellen, crumpled in a heap in that back room. I barely could register what was being said by anyone after she threw that umbrella."
"I think he kind of ruined it a bit at the end though, if you want my honest opinion."
"What do you mean?" Sue asked.
"Well, all that stuff about the shiny faces. It's like, what is it really going to take? What is it really going to take before we quit ending everything with the God damn shiny faces stuff?"
© Ciprianowords, Inc. 2018
Saturday, September 01, 2018
The Dichotomy
The Dichotomy
There are two kinds of people in this world.
The dichotomy has nothing to do with black or white,
rich or poor, male or female, or intelligence quotient.
[...Now you are curious.]
But no, they are not to be divided according to:
Religious or atheist. Radical or conservative.
Astronaut or earthbound. Dog-owners/Cat-owners.
[...Now you are thinking, I have read better poems.]
And yet, the main difference has nothing to do with:
Successful poets and the illiterate. Unattractive/Gorgeous.
Americans and everyone else. Capitalists/Communists.
Etc., ad infinitum.
No.
The clearest separation between what a human being is
and what a human being can be, involves the tear ducts.
It is to be found in the space between those who weep
only from pain, loss, grief, sorrow, knowing too much --
and those who fully break apart at inexplicable moments.
It's normal to be both of these things, but God help us,
far too many of our species only ever experience the former.
When sheer pleasure, attainment, joy, and unprecedented wonder
fail to deeply move us, moisten us -- God help me.
Remember. Every sunrise and sunset, a song in the memory.
© Ciprianowords, Inc. 2018
There are two kinds of people in this world.
The dichotomy has nothing to do with black or white,
rich or poor, male or female, or intelligence quotient.
[...Now you are curious.]
But no, they are not to be divided according to:
Religious or atheist. Radical or conservative.
Astronaut or earthbound. Dog-owners/Cat-owners.
[...Now you are thinking, I have read better poems.]
And yet, the main difference has nothing to do with:
Successful poets and the illiterate. Unattractive/Gorgeous.
Americans and everyone else. Capitalists/Communists.
Etc., ad infinitum.
No.
The clearest separation between what a human being is
and what a human being can be, involves the tear ducts.
It is to be found in the space between those who weep
only from pain, loss, grief, sorrow, knowing too much --
and those who fully break apart at inexplicable moments.
It's normal to be both of these things, but God help us,
far too many of our species only ever experience the former.
When sheer pleasure, attainment, joy, and unprecedented wonder
fail to deeply move us, moisten us -- God help me.
Remember. Every sunrise and sunset, a song in the memory.
© Ciprianowords, Inc. 2018
Friday, August 24, 2018
If I Live To Be 100
If I Live To Be 100
Definitely a heap of bones by now he or she is.
One chilly Sunday morning my own lifetime ago
I drove the winding highway of a mountainside
and rounding a curve, braked for an entire herd
of them milling about as though no calendar had
ever entered the mind of man. Whether their
huffed breaths mingled with mist, fog, or cloud
was of no concern to any, nor ambling so close to
death or a Monday beside the precipice, a worry.
All of this I intuitively understood as, slowing my car
to negotiate my way through this menagerie, one
broke free and began to trot along beside my open
window. What endless mystery behind the horizontal
black slit of those eyes. Such re-definition of the word
beauty made itself known to me in that moment, that
I was compelled to reach out. And if I live to be 100
I will never forget when my offering was accepted.
Sharing the remnant of my sandwich with that goat.
© Ciprianowords, Inc. 2018
Definitely a heap of bones by now he or she is.
One chilly Sunday morning my own lifetime ago
I drove the winding highway of a mountainside
and rounding a curve, braked for an entire herd
of them milling about as though no calendar had
ever entered the mind of man. Whether their
huffed breaths mingled with mist, fog, or cloud
was of no concern to any, nor ambling so close to
death or a Monday beside the precipice, a worry.
All of this I intuitively understood as, slowing my car
to negotiate my way through this menagerie, one
broke free and began to trot along beside my open
window. What endless mystery behind the horizontal
black slit of those eyes. Such re-definition of the word
beauty made itself known to me in that moment, that
I was compelled to reach out. And if I live to be 100
I will never forget when my offering was accepted.
Sharing the remnant of my sandwich with that goat.
© Ciprianowords, Inc. 2018
Saturday, February 24, 2018
Hope For Us
Hope For Us
I have been involved in confrontations that left me speechless,
and minutes later, the perfect response formed itself in my mind.
You beat yourself because rightness has never been so right —
the person is still within view — you could catch them if you ran.
Is it even human to cool down and brood in private vindication?
Spin them, let them have it both barrels and you would sleep better.
But they round the corner and are gone. Is this the end of it now?
No. Truly, if your vitriol were to be seen in time-lapse photography,
the initial sentence is now morphing into indented paragraphs.
There is even a dedication page before your essay of recrimination.
This may be nature, but not human nature. Not the way things work.
If you are in doubt, think of how many times your perfect response
was best left unsaid, and your enemy un-spun. Your best thoughts
not at the top of your head. Your clenched fist unyielding because
it still thought it was clinging to a vine. We’re still evolving.
© Ciprianowords, Inc. 2018
I have been involved in confrontations that left me speechless,
and minutes later, the perfect response formed itself in my mind.
You beat yourself because rightness has never been so right —
the person is still within view — you could catch them if you ran.
Is it even human to cool down and brood in private vindication?
Spin them, let them have it both barrels and you would sleep better.
But they round the corner and are gone. Is this the end of it now?
No. Truly, if your vitriol were to be seen in time-lapse photography,
the initial sentence is now morphing into indented paragraphs.
There is even a dedication page before your essay of recrimination.
This may be nature, but not human nature. Not the way things work.
If you are in doubt, think of how many times your perfect response
was best left unsaid, and your enemy un-spun. Your best thoughts
not at the top of your head. Your clenched fist unyielding because
it still thought it was clinging to a vine. We’re still evolving.
© Ciprianowords, Inc. 2018
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