Big Hopes lie on the horizon. I can feel it in the air.

Or in my bones or in my heart… I just know I feel it somewhere.

It’s not an all or nothing. And it is not a Fait Accompli.

But it’s something long overdue and I am longing to be free.

The devil is in the details.

Alas, you never stood that tall.

I watched the give transfer to take.

You then refused the call.

The devil is in the details.

The avoidance was the war.

You took it all or so you thought.

Privileged peace worth so much more.

Still early on in January, the air is painful chill.

The roads are barren empty, I am taking in my fill.

No news, no useless drama, no opinions of the damned.

Don’t need to hear those voices and all that they have planned.

There is a rustle in the hedgerows, I’m peering for a look.

I’m thinking not my business, and it’s back to tea and book.

Not every kid becomes a Doctor or a Lawyer. However, this must be the desire and choice that parents made where I grew up. For there Seemed to me to be this unholy competition amongst the mothers I came across for greater things to come for their little Johnny’s.

My best friend had an Aunt whom would visit his family each summer. We lived in the country side and her being from the city, she would tell us kids of her and her families great accomplishments.

Her 2 sons, as you probably guessed were; one was a Doctor and one was a lawyer.

The first job I had in the city after I left the country was moving furniture, and one of the guys working with me was a few years older than me and he was childhood friends with the Doctor and the Lawyer; and his name was Gord.

Gord and I would move furniture all day, and then go to the bar at night and drink and tell stories.

Gord was the first pure Thief I ever met. What I liked most about Gord was his pure honesty about his own shortcomings; He never made any excuses about who and what he was. An alcoholic drug addict furniture moving Thief.

I told him that my best friend growing up was the nephew of the mother of his childhood friends, The Doctor and The Lawyer.

Gord laughed and said, “I’m a Thief, but the man you referred to as the Lawyer; is the worst Thief I ever saw. He couldn’t help himself. It’s just who he is. He has done so much prison time… He is institutionalized. And his Doctor brother? No. He’s just a drug addict.”

My friend Gord was a great education. Not every kid grows up to be a Doctor or a Lawyer.

I have

This Need.

To Write,

And Paint.

Never leaves,

Me alone.

Thank God!

Don’t know,

What I,

Would do

Without this.

Probably die.

Maybe cry.

Doesn’t matter.

We will

Never know.

Batman going crazy, he’s been angered since his youth.

And Superboy came out as gay, saying goodbye old phone booth.

The Joker feels normal now, like Matthew Mathers spitting truth.

The Myth-Men seem so human.

Clarke Kent hides behind a curl.

The Aliens are all the rage.

Only Star-Lord gets the girl.

Women have fascinated me for much of my life. Early on, I had this deep need to understand them or me or me with them, either through observation or dare I say love?

However, through time, either the need has passed or I just accepted my own failures in this regard and have just moved on to parenting.

I recognized my nature.

Not much was steeped in good.

There was this strange sensation.

Like maybe I just should.

Forget it all and start a new.

Take the narrow view to wide.

Take my head out from my ass.

And maybe look outside.

Not all is gain or glory.

Not all is pain and strife.

The road the path the choices made.

It’s a wild ride this life.

There was laughter in their voices.

Strange magic in the air.

Hope and dreams were in the clouds.

Their smiles everywhere.

Was there something in the water.

No one could really say.

Just glad that I bore witness.

To some joy along the way.

The Host is at the meeting.

Can see them there most weeks.

Time moves swiftly, all but fleeting.

Holds accounts the tongue that speaks.

The Host he smiles gently.

Just a simple subtle nod.

The tongue just rambles on and on.

Like they have the ear of God.

But the Host can’t still be listening.

Because he has heard it all before.

He is praying for the end to come.

Or some silence to endure.

He meditates on patience.

Imagines screaming mindless shouts.

The Host is out of virtue now.

There’s a humor in his doubts.