This poem seems to go along with my sudden discovery of gray hair. In 1995, a friend of mine passed away at the age of 30, which spawned a series of poems on my own mortality. It’s been ten years since I wrote this, and the matter is closer but no clearer than it was then. Except that I’m no longer so sure about the last line. Your thoughts are appreciated.

NEW SONGS

Someday, I will suddenly die.

It won’t be fatal, but

something different will become of me then. 

I will have a new suit.

It’s so hard to believe. 

Death happens to everybody else.

Lots of things happen to other people,

but they never happen to me.

I’ve never had the mumps, been

in the hospital, or broken a bone.

I’ve never been drafted, jailed,

or ridden in a big balloon.

I’ve never been shot at or even robbed

but I have been to some big cities.

I have never caught a touchdown pass,

been to Greece or the Grand Canyon.

I’ve never ridden an elephant

or seen a wild polar bear. 

My car has broken down, but I

have never walked too far.

One night, I got so drunk, that I

stumbled on the railroad tracks. 

There was a train coming, but my friend

helped me up in time.

Then he got leukemia and died.

So with Death, maybe Kyle is not immune. 

I will have to learn new songs

to sing

along the way.

I will have to go alone.

© 1995 Kyle Kimberlin
all rights reserved

-Robert Lynd, writer (1879-1949)

.flickr-photo { border: solid 1px #000000; }.flickr-frame { float: right; text-align: center; margin-left: 15px; margin-bottom: 15px; }.flickr-caption { font-size: 0.8em; margin-top: 0px; }

Tasha Writing,
originally uploaded by kylekimberlin.

OK, that’s enough of the political stuff for one night. Yesterday, I took Tasha up to Toro Canyon, a remote park in the foothills behind town. It was a beautiful, warm afternoon, in a canyon sheltered from cell phone signals and ocean air.

Tasha got to wander a while. I don’t let her off leash – too many chances for a misstep and injury. But I let her walk around with the leash totally limp, trying not to let her feel any pull from it. She checked out lots of smells, and got back in her camper to do some writing.

There are too many leaks of classified information in Washington. If there’s leaks out of my administration, I want to know who it is, and if the person has violated the law, the person will be taken care of.

 

In the mood for a little fun reading? Check out the transcript of today’s Press Briefing by Scott McClellan at the White house. A few of the reporters eat his lunch for him, for flatly refusing to talk about Karl Rove. It’s amazing. As a friend said to me this evening, it’s very reminiscent of the Nixon scandal era.

A few days ago, I posted the first part of a rough draft of a vignette called To Bury a Horse. If anybody’s interested in seeing how it ends, send me an e-mail. I’ll send it to you. (I’m probably just going to send it to people I know.) I think it has emotional truth about the relationship between people and animals, and what Kerouac called, “the forlorn rags of growing old.”

It turns out the rumor of the Chief Justice’s retirement can be traced to Robert Novak, who — according to Jon Stewart — is a “douchebag.” I wouldn’t trust the man to direct me to the men’s room, so the rumor is almost certainly wrong. And so says Jeff Jarvis on Buzzmachine.

Wait. I knew it was Novak when I posted it originally. Why did I do that? Must’ve been half asleep. Never mind.

Love dogs and cats? Consider yourself a “spiritual” or “mystical” person? You’ll want to read this article.

“…the animals have been there before us and have innate knowing of God, or the One Reality, which is the life and unfolding of the universe. I do not mean to suggest that animals follow the human version of the mystic path, but rather that they are so naturally a part of the One Reality that they restore us to something like our original condition, one in which we discover the steps and stages of the path that leads us back to who and what we really are.”

[Link]

Tomorrow is the 20th anniversary of the destruction of the Greenpeace ship Rainbow Warrior. So it seems fitting to remember who blew it up. And while we who are against the war in Iraq tend to agree with French policy in that matter, one must always say merd to hypocrisy.

[Yahoo! News]

Silly title, huh? Well, the recent loss of aesthetic continuity, caused by a corruption in my blogger template, has been rectified. It being saturday, I finally got around to reinstalling Haloscan comments and Sitemeter. So you can comment and trackback to your gizzard’s content. And I’ll know how many people are viewing the blog and for how long.

Other recent improvements include Flickr photos and new items added to the Blogroll. See the right column for that stuff.

And see the little envelope icon at the end of each post? Click that to e-mail the post to your Mom, your co-workers, or the Dept of Homeland Security.

I’ve gotta find something for lunch. I don’t believe there’s a damnable thing in the house but dog food and Ritz crackers. Hmmm.