I died again. In the waters as usual. It is always the water. Somehow
it all makes sense. It is always the minor things. The minutia that
pulls me under. The little, wet idiosyncrasies, stuffed words, distant
miscommunication. I die over and over again. Each time, I emerge from
the waters, gasping for air. Shedding my wet skin, warming myself by
imaginary fires. There is always a new life, new thoughts springing
forth from moist soil. But, the disappointment is daunting. The little,
sad failures leave me paralyzed in bed, stomaching churning, limbs
seized. I stand in the grocery store, gazing at nothing, avoiding
mediocre conversations with a neighbor about apple trees. There is a
scream boiling up inside me. A smile creeps across my face and I nod,
backing away slowly. There is nothing I understand about their world. My
days are secret disasters giving birth to revelations, new lives
excreted through the pores of despair. I am not normal. I can’t swim
with the happy people. The little conversations are lost on me. I stare
blankly at the triviality of their little pleasures. I live with death. I
am pulled out of swimming pools, electrocuted by hair dryers in bath
tubs. I dig holes and send out esoteric messages to tortured souls. Life
comes from ascending, stretching and evolving in the darkness. I find
God in broken people. There are others, as wet as I am. Brought back
from the brink. Eating the water of life. Dying on the bread of the
masses. I died again, but I find new life. Touch the beauty of the
universe, I carry a beautiful song in my heart. It is all very sad. The
cycle of death is annoying. Next time I will be normal. I will dive into
a big smile which will release me of my burdens. Everything will be
alright. Even in death, everything will be alright. Today I live.
Today, I dry off and live a secret life.
[Jasper Kerkau is co-creator of Sudden Denouement, as well as Jasper Kerkau Writing.]
Summer is a destructive force. The dank humidity leaves me brooding
and exhausted; Houston is unforgiving. The cement, cars, and teaming
masses, coupled with my incessant ambition, leaves a trail of sweat,
puts me in dark rooms, huddled by the throbbing sound of fans, hiding
from the relentless assault of the merciless sun. I dreamt last night of
the snow from a failed conquest in Northern Virginia years ago; the
result was the same, hiding, smothered, seeking refuge from icy February
that left me longing for the comfort of home, the soft Houston
late-winter. The result is the same; I spend my life hiding from the
world, looking for artificially, temperature-controlled spaces. In the
end, I spend all my time hiding from everything. Loud people with abrupt
personalities. Shiny, bright sorts with abrasive opinions and sharp
condemnation. The truth is that I am a coward. None of it is for me. I
am given over to fits of intuitive paranoia, deep sympathies for the
outcasts, feeling the deep burden of guilt for failures, lost in a world
of vapid people with sharp agendas packed away in pockets and purses.
The summer is unbearable. The disappointment is too much to bear. There
is never a point which I feel at peace with the universe. It is all
slipping away, as I clutch my confused life with sweaty hands, secretly
afraid of skin cancer and the world getting hotter by the day. I am one
of the ones who ache in rooms with small talk about politics, puffed up
bravado about personal exploits. I just want to sit in silence and
breathe, feel the love and positive energy at the core of it all that is
often so elusive. The heat will devour me. I will lose myself in
August, burn and sweat out pounds. There is no escape. The world and all
the magic it possesses is fleeting. For the time being, I sit and wait
for this all to pass. Eventually, this summer will end, the superficial
people will go away. I will be able to soak in the beauty of the life.
Find happiness not tarnished by all the disappointment in the world.
Everything will be okay. I just need to get through all of this heat.
The world is a beautiful place. I just need to sit and ponder the
Jasper Kerkau is co-creator, writer/editor for Sudden Denouement.
I just picked up several books by Lyn Coffin. “This Green Life: New
and Selected Poems” (Transcendent Zero Press) is a wonderful
book of poetry. According to her bio, she “is the author of
more than thirty books–poetry, fiction, drama.” Her website is Lyn Coffin: One Hand Clapping.
I have been particularly inspired by the depth and weight of
her poetry. The book is another great release from my
friends at Transcendent Zero Press. Dustin Pinkering and Z.M. Wise are exceptional publishers and writers, who seem to bless us all with a wide variety of exciting poetry.
As someone who was greatly influenced by Allen Ginsberg, I found her
poem “The Death of Allen Ginsberg” to be particularly touching, the last
line reads: “At last he was allowed to disappear.” This collection of
poems requires multiple readings and analysis. I would suggest anyone
who is as enamored with poetry as myself to pick up a copy of one of her
books. One a side note, after meeting Coffin, I found her to be what we
expect from great poets, a true individual with a strong voice, cutting
her own unique path. I was blessed by the experience and look forward
to digging deeper into her writing.
“This Green Life: New and Selected Poems” can be purchased at Amazon.
[Jasper Kerkau is Writer/Editor Sudden Denouement and Jasper Kerkau Writing, more importantly he is a fan of literature.]