Poetry: Recent Episodes
Terry Mulcahy
When the oil is just right
in a cast-iron fry pan
a NM corn tortilla
starts to dance
bubbling up
here and there
like a pot of chile.
Flip it over then
for the magic
the center rises
like a yellow balloon
filling with hot air
and skates on the oil.
It’s done!
Magic.
Slide it on a plate
cover with
sauteed onion
green chile
grated cheese.
Cook a second tortilla
add to the stack
cover with
sautéed onion
green chile
and grated cheese.
Almost done.
Cook a third tortilla
add it to the stack
fry a fresh local egg
over reeeeaaal easy
slide it onto that
three-tiered wonder
drizzle red chile
all over this feast
pop the yolk
as orange happiness
oozes over all
like sunshine
Eat the magic.
Lao Tzu, legendary Chinese philosopher and founder of Taoism wrote:
Be content with what you have
rejoice in the way things are.
When you realize there is nothing lacking
the whole world belongs to you.
I AM NOT CONTENT
with what I have.
I do not rejoice
in the way things are.
Never!
Not until I am buried
with all my stuff
my swords and shields
and my slings and arrows
of outrageous fortune.
Bury me
with my prejudices and ego
with my stress and anger
with my desires for revenge
with my unkind words
with my thoughtlessness.
Bury me
with my sloth and gluttony.
Bury me
with my pride.
Bury me
with my lust for who
and what I cannot have
and my lust instead
for possessions
to surround me.
Bury me
most of all
with my sadness and loneliness.
But
don't forget to come back
and dig me up.
Leave all that other stuff
cover it with reinforced concrete.
Put up a sign that says:
Danger!
Radioactive!
Highly Poisonous!
Do Not Dig Here!
Do Not Disturb!
Then
I will belong to the world.
WHAT IS IN THE BOX?
Is it the answer to my hopes and dreams?
is it love? Is it bacon?
Is it a Braunschweiger sandwich
with mayo
in my lunchbag
made lovingly by Mom?
Is it an extra-sharp cheese omelet
with fresh roasted green chile
made by me for myself?
Is it black bean and hot Italian sausage chile
made with love for someone else?
Is it a cup of Yunnan black tea
- Stygian darkness cut with honey -
made for pleasure?
Is it being with someone you love
as you watch the sunset
and the sunlight is refracted
colors bouncing from cloud to cloud?
Is it poetry you write about someone you love?
Is it watermelon to share with your lover?
Is it a dream of love?
Is it a remembrance of love?
Is it knowing that there is always love
as long as you love someone
even if they no longer care about you?
The answer is love - it is always love.
The answer to all of life's questions
comes down to love
even if
all you want to know
is
what's in the box?
MORE THAN A BOX
At first
I'm just a box
waiting
outside your door.
Bring me in
open me
inspect me.
If I'm cracked
but useable
keep me
or trash me.
No refunds.
But
if you keep me
I may surprise you.
My imperfections
give me strength
and guidance.
I do not repeat errors
I learn from them.
Touch me
caress me
I respond in kind.
I can offer: love
without expectations
without strings
without judgment.
But
justopentheboxandtakealook
damn it!
I hadn't wanted any other pets after I left home. On one visit home, I learned that the family dog, Lady, one I had picked out and named, who I fed every day, and always came running when I called, from wherever she was, had sickened and been put to sleep. No one had ever told me she was sick, or that she was dead. So many years later, with two step-children in the house, I was speaking with my mom about traveling to my dad's funeral. She asked me if I wanted one of his cats. I turned to my first wife's daughter and asked if she wanted a cat. She said she did, so I told my mom I would take one. When I arrived at the farmhouse my mom shared with her new husband, she put me in a room where both of my dad's cats had been kept since his death.
My dad, like my mom, had remarried after their divorce, but I suppose his new wife didn't want the cats.
After the wake for my dad, my mom offered to drive me to the airport with the cat I'd picked out. She loaded the cat, in a pet carrier, in her car, along with cat food, and bowls for food and water. On the way, I noticed she had put both cats in the carrier. My brother Pat was with us, and I asked him if he'd take one of the cats, but he said he'd already turned that idea down since he was highly allergic to cats. So I took both cats home, and after my first divorce, I took them with me to a small mortgaged house.
About four years later I married again. One cat had died, but the other was fine. After the male was shot with a pellet gun, I thought I was done with cats. But, although my new wife, it turned out, didn't like animals, a stray female dropped a litter in our yard, and I managed to keep one: a little orange-and-white-striped one, just like my dad's male cat. One year later, a very young black & white female dropped a litter in our yard, but my wife insisted I get rid of them. However, I kept the mother - she looked so much like my dad's female cat, and the two of them were inseparable.
After my wife roughly pushed the female off of her lap - the male was on my lap - they never bonded with my new wife. They avoided her. That should have given me pause. She said they gave her the evil eye.
Fourteen years later, I found myself divorced again, with two cats to keep me company. They had been my constant companions. However, I found a girlfriend who spent every weekend with me, and we sure had a good time. But the cats always hid when she was there. They didn't like strangers. The woman herself had ghosted me suddenly a year and a half later after we'd met. Not long after that, my male cat disappeared, one day before suppertime, very unlike him, and I never found him, even though I put up posters, and he was chipped. I wandered through several neighborhoods for six months looking for that sweet cat. In my loneliness, I'd never felt such a close bond with any animal before.
Then, early this year, the female cat died, about six years after I'd acquired a companion for the sad thing. I sure missed her. Not long after, about six months later, that cat died as well. I'd hadn't bonded very closely with that one, but the house is so empty now.
This episode is also available as a blog post: https://terrystuff.wordpress.com/2020/10/27/memories-of-a-blue-bayou/
*The word Chesepiooc is an Algonquian word referring to a village ‘at a big river’. The Chesapeake people, or the Chesepian, were a Native American tribe who inhabited the area now known as South Hampton Roads in Virginia. The Chesepian were wiped out by the Powhatan Confederacy, sometime before the arrival of the English at Jamestown in 1607. The Chesepian were eliminated because Powhatan’s priests had warned that “from the Chesapeake Bay a nation should arise, which should dissolve and give end to his empire.”
The chief of all the Powhatan tribes, Wahunsonacock, later known as Powhatan, was so powerful that the English referred to him as a king. You may have heard of his daughter, Pocahontas, who became a bargaining chip. The Powhatan tribes had originally been generous, but they did not have enough of the food that the ever-increasing population of English settlers demanded. The English sometimes burned villages in order to force more food from Powhatan, which started the First Powhatan War. The English used Powhatan prisoners to force concessions from Powhatan, but Pocahontas, just as she had saved John Smith a year earlier, was able to arrange the release of the Powhatans. Later, she herself was taken prisoner by the English and held hostage in order to force Powhatan to give them more food, unsuccessfully. She remained a prisoner until she married English tobacco planter John Rolfe and peace returned, for a time.
Desayuno, or breakfast in New Mexico, USA.
This episode is also available as a blog post: https://terrystuff.wordpress.com/2021/05/05/cusp-of-a-morning/
This episode is also available as a blog post: https://terrystuff.wordpress.com/2021/04/17/my-heart-is-not-awake/