Conversations with Keefy

I barely ever sleep, but often I dream of my funeral. The day I am laid to rest. Goodbyes said in silence. Empty prayers to an empty sky. Curses under swallowed breaths. A bronze urn to hold the remnants of my person. Who will weep for me and who will piss on me? True loves, true friends and the truly fake. All gathered together sharing a begrudged moment. Regrets, lies, blinding truths and the inescapable finality. Knowing that time is up and things don't get resolved nicely. The dark danse macabre of the moment beguiles the sufferer. The pretentious and the false will offer the aggrieved to “be there for them if they are needed”. Even though few were there for me when I needed them in life. Meanwhile a few selfless pilgrims will do what must be done. Some will sob, others will make inappropriate jokes. Others still will reminisce over me in uneasy low tones. Few will come to understand the measure of this man. Frenemies I never showed a glimpse of solace to ...

Redux Here I am crying a single tear for you again. As if you ever really cared. Every now and then I slip once more back to the moment before I tried to forget. A dream that still goes unfulfilled. Holding on to you that night was a feeling I wanted to save forever. Now what I cling to instead is the loss of something I never had in the first place. Or did I? "Just one more wishbone." Be like water. A storm rages outside, but it's nothing compared to the one in my heart. Rain beats a furious pattern on my windowpane, but is silenced next to the bass drum in my head. Tempestuous emotions overtake me and I cannot still these raging pools. Memories flooding in again and again. Disarming my senses and drowning all hope. Add caption Middle Child. Where did you go to? Why did you leave? How cruel is fate? Why do I still mourn? These and many other riddles gnaw at my soul. I wish the two hands of logic and reason could shake this dullness out of me. So I could kn...

As today draws to a close I am deep in reflection. Actually I have been since before midnight yesterday. December 8 th is date burned into the minds of many of my friends today. Just as December 7th- “the day that lives in infamy” (Pearl Harbor Day) did for my parents and their peers. It's a strange convergence that has been pointed out by many to be true. If you have already guessed at the topic of the tale, that's fine. The stories have been told and retold a lot today. I have my own spin on how these events affected me personally. "Nobody told me there'd be days like these..." Thirty years ago while coming home from the studio John Lennon was shot to death outside of his home in his adopted home of New York City. John once joked that THE BEATLES were “bigger than God” and his death sort of proved him right, sadly enough. You can argue all day and night if either he or Paul were more talented (I always preferred quiet ol' George Harrison mysel...