Wednesday 29th November, 2006

 

 

 

 

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A Thought for Today

All of life is instruction.

 

This One Does It For Me!

Regular readers will know that this column traditionally takes a break during the month of December and this year is no exception.

I've always felt come December minds turn towards other things - shopping for gifts, planning the Christmas feast and, if you're lucky enough to live in the southern hemisphere, the summer holidays - so I like to give our readers (and myself) a break from the weekly questions and answers.

This being a 24/7, 365 day operation there will still be something new and interesting for you to read each Wednesday during the Christmas month - I just don't know what it will be right now!

So, in winding down, a HUGE thank you to all who've made our Wednesdays during 2006 more interesting with their questions. The great thing about your contributions is that they invariably remind us of sometimes forgotten McKuen pieces and I always enjoy the trip down memory lane.

A blessed Christmas to those who celebrate it, a prosperous New Year to everyone. Look after yourselves and above all be safe 'till we meet again next year. 

-Ken, Johannesburg, South Africa, November 29

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Rod's random thoughts If nothing is happening, make it happen or don’t complain.

Winning isn’t always the best way to end a game.

Those willing to listen to us will always inspire us to listen to them.

Kearny Street

 The house on Kearny Street
where I came and went on weekends
                                      is the same.
The hill above is summer green
the sky a foggy blue
and children still march by each day at three
       o'clock
foraging back from school.
The hill and Kearny Street are still the same
                                     but I have changed.

No more the winning smile
the hasty song
the happy stare of love
the young heart leaping in the dark room.
And no more the wild young man
who talked to quickly and too loud
of love he owned and wished to give away.

Seldom the sun
catches me lying in bed late anymore.
Seldom the pigeons gargling in the grass
see my form stretched out upon the lawn.

I pace unfamiliar streets now
attempting new solutions to old problems
and the answers seldom come.

But there was a time
in the fall and winter of the year
when the sun's bright yellow mingled with the fog
and Kearny Street in San Francisco was the whole
       world.

Sometimes I'm sorry for love once known
it doesn't justify the years you spend remembering.
I was always timid about your loving me anyway
knowing the eagle doesn't hunt flies
and that worlds were larger than our love.

But I am happy still
that even for a moment
you laughed in my direction
and chased my nakedness down a lonely beach.
For maybe six months of love
is worth the lifetime you spend looking,
and marmalade
              and oysters for breakfast one morning
and knowing you tried to love me
                                      is enough.

For love is only moments here and there
it comes and goes quietly I think.
You hear it like silver bells
tied about the throats of cats
              (now near - now sounding far away.)

I was loved on Kearny Street.
But no more the young heart leaping in the dark
      room. 

                                - from "Stanyan Street & Other Sorrows"
 
     
 
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