Sunday, October 4, 2009

The secret of a happy marriage...



We met skydiving, over 25 years ago
Adventure? Passion? oh, yeah.
Now we're like two cats in the sun

He brings me coffee in the morning
he put my kids through college
He doesn't boss me around
and I don't give him shit
We share two kidneys between us
Third time's a charm

Monday, September 21, 2009

life could be a pier



so narrow, so limited
confined
converging lines
abrupt

it might be an island
narrow
a vantage point
or maybe a launch pad

this jetty life
a runway
into a greater, deeper
blue

for now
it's all i need
it's enough

Friday, August 14, 2009

Some of the best adventures I've ever had...


Linda talks with Michael Weir about sailing and wine tasting...

Sunday, August 2, 2009

midsummer in Steamboat Springs









where are those endless summer days of youth?
now days are abundant
fuller than ever
but fleeting
shorter
and time picks up the tempo

lscollison 8/2/09

Monday, July 27, 2009

do you twitter? i don't.



remember how you held your hands
over your ears singing
"na, na, na i can't hear you"
to drown me out?

cacophony
that word once thrilled me
nowadays, it's awkward to text
way too many characters

size doesn't matter
but form does
it takes deliberation
to be brief

only the birds twitter meaningfully
me, i need depth
substance or silence
please

sometimes i hate the sound of my own voice
gobble gobble gobble
drivel rant babble
just shut the fuck up


so don't blow me a kiss in passing
i want to taste your lips
feel your tongue
or forget it

lscollison/2009

My grandmother Mary Virginia Leonard was a person I admired immensely. I like to think she had a profound influence on my life, she and her husband John W. We grandkids called our grandparents Bobo and Bebop. They were stalwart, resourceful, vital, wise.

Bobo lived to be 103, her mind pretty sharp until the end. She had a stroke, about five years before she died, which left her speechless. Nor was she able to write. When I visited her she would try to tell me something, and from the look in her eyes I knew it was important, but she couldn't articulate the words, and the tears spilled in frustration.

What if words were like money? A resource, a treasure? What if an evil fairy cast a spell, giving me only 50 words, after which I would fall mute forever? The equivalent of one tweet, what would I say? And to whom?

We spend our words like chump change, and so often the words are thoughtless, inane, cruel, or just clutter the air, rain down on the floor, devoid of any value.

I'd like to take a vow of silence, at least for a while. I'll start with 60 seconds. Beginning now.

Monday, July 20, 2009

june grasses




I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I
love
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles
You will hardly know who I am or what I mean
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless
And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged.
Missing me one place search another
I stop somewhere waiting for you.
from Song of Myself
by Walt Whitman

Sunday, July 19, 2009

happiness finds you, in prison or at sea...



I've recently discovered the Roman writer and philosopher Boethius (480-524), who wrote The Consolation of Philosophy while he was imprisoned, and before being executed. I seem to share many of his ideas of finding happiness within.

This morning, while trying to organize a heap of old journals, I came across some scribblings I made during a 3-week ocean crossing with Bob aboard Topaz. (If you've ever been to sea you can probably relate to the prison metaphor, and it was an 18th-century English author and wit, Samuel Johnson, who said What is a ship but a prison, with the chance of being drowned...)


June 5, 2001
At sea, somewhere near the equator…

Salty, damp, hot
as we pound our way through
glorious but brutal humps of
water. Feeling pretty dogged, both
of us. A long journey home.

I’m still at the wheel, Bob is
below, and I start singing. I sing
every song that comes to mind, every song I know.

This cheers me immensely and
gives me a burst of euphoria
and love of life. If you can’t
be happy when times are hard or
you are physically miserable,
what good is happiness?