Nosegay

What Chopin wanted most
was to die
in George Sand arms,
on his deathbed
all he got
Was a nosegay of violets
She left at his door
When her daughter
turned her away–
People can be such shits.

Nosegay

federico-chopin

He wrote a friend on his deathbed, “She promised me I would die in her arms.”

How did Chopin die?

George_Sand

Amantine-Lucile-Aurore Dupin aka George Sand, Novelist.

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And yes, I’m aware that the event may be based on legend, but many believe it is true and by it’s very intensity, a legend becomes a painful little poem with a nasty but truthful conclusion.  It is justified by that truth.   “Art is not a study of positive reality, it is the seeking for ideal truth.”   ~George Sand

Things We Cannot Name

For JD

How long it took to know, however hard we wished
There was no return, no starting over for us –

With an ocean between I recall a day in California
The fire of summer inside
Cool blessing of water nearby
Our spirits falling to the clarity of desire and later

Waist-deep in mountain brook I lifted from the current
A king snake without fear:
Nothing could harm me then, doubt had no hold –

How a thing so good twists into something we kill
I cannot say, but if I doubt now
I doubt you like I do God
Who I cannot see, but remember from somewhere.

Perhaps there is no other reason for love
Than images wrecked by time
Memories richer than blood, miraculous ways
That lead to who we are: each of us a wilderness

A wildflower trail, and things without name that linger:
The mysterious scent of the golden violet … California.

 

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Rayn Roberts

Advice

I had my annual physical today and all was well.
The Doc. asked if I had any concerns, I said
“I need a strong pain killer for a broken heart.”
He laughed, but I said, “I’m serious.
Nothing but booze helps and that gives me a hangover.
Can’t you give me something for it?”
He said, “Look man, at sixty five
You’ve only just started a difficult walk
Down the senior path and you haven’t seen anything yet!
My advice is enjoy the scenery.”
I wanted to punch him, but his words hit me harder.
— Wasn’t it Harry Truman who said
“I never gave them hell. I just told them the truth
And created it for them.” Or words to that effect?

Say AHHHHHH
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What is There?

What is there in the end but forgiveness
And forgiving one’s self.
What is regret when we cannot go back
To change anything done?
We only move forward
To more change, the slow breakdown
Of the body, aging and death,
There is that, of course, but
The quicker one can do it the better:
Live so the need to forgive is less and less.
It is a gift we give, and when we can, is priceless.

 

tumblr_opi6ecpEKH1qde5xzo1_500Rayn Roberts 2017

Good Friday Meditation

Morning moves toward noon, a dim moon floats above the hill
It is a skull– In my head as in the eaves doves moan
Mondial irises bloom the color of shrouds

Under a cold sky the cedar trees shutter

The low groan the dog utters is from the chilly rain–
It has always been as the papers say, “Man found murdered
Near Saint Mary’s church” so much blood and pain, too little change.

 

 

Rayn Roberts 2017

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The Passing of Prince

Bittersweet chocolate, dying is a small event
A flame flickers out as we pay the rent

Spasm of surprise, electric as his Afro blood
Swells the heart open with a media flood

He is gone, and all our love cannot replace
A broken string, the ringing bass

Snapping snare, his pansexual soul, in short
Death is a moment within life– la petite mort

Times two, to honor the artist formerly known
As Prince, who left as we all do, alone–

Just you and me, baby, at home in our room
On a rock ‘n roll-soul bed, he would dig it too.

 

One of his greatest performances! (Click it)

Rayn Roberts 4/23/16