Tag Archives: Aging

Back to School

August is a time of great anticipation and apprehension as summer comes to an end. Parents are excited and children who are young enough not to know better are excited too. I must admit that August still has the refreshing feel of new beginnings for me- new books, new supplies, new teachers. It was ever green hope that the new school year would somehow be better, be different.

New Year’s Day has this same quality, a ritual celebration to compartmentalize last year’s events and memories, to put it away in favor of new beginnings. By the way, how are those resolutions coming along? I consider it a time to adjust and recommit to goals I was already working on, not make new ones. And one of those goals is to become a better writer.

January is also ‘back to school’ time, though most students are still reeling from the fall semester. For many, the spring semester is just the continuation of the academic year that they have to slog through to get to summer break. But consider that there are freshmen who start college late or high school seniors who start early. For them it is new and exciting. Consider the so-called ‘non-traditional’ student who is over age 40, who might be living up to that New Year’s resolution to finish their education or start a new career.

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Endless Summer

When I saw it, I knew. It was van Gogh. I knew it not by his distinct style, but by the raw emotion that radiated off the inanimate canvas. I stood at the opposite end of the gallery and cried.

It was endless summer. Continue reading

Life Is

To explain to someone
Yes, I see you
Yes, grief has terrible power
Yes, the closing window of opportunity
That time inches shut is real
But maybe, just maybe
Our dreams and expectations
Of this life are not real
Not realistic
You have good reasons
But the complexity of their birth
More than a two-minute conversation can explain
So, you are left
With judgement from others

People will come
People will go
It’s OK
At the end of today and every day
It will all begin and end with you anyway
Giving the gift of freedom
Is an act of love
Giving the gift of a second chance
Is an act of love
Anger will always be
A close companion
But it can exist, then go away
Leave you in peace, to rest
To enjoy a little, laugh a little

 

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, June 2017

Slices of citrus fruit on blue background

Bitter Fruit

The years pass
In two’s and three’s

You still are as you were
Softer, harder

Not bitter, so bitter that
No one calls or visits
Or wants to talk to you

You are given a choice everyday
Where you want to go
What you want to do

If it is to be enraged
Yet one more day
About what might have been
You are free to do so

But the years will pass
In two’s and three’s

Walking the treadmill
Money in, money out
Sex maybe, food always
Death upon death upon death

Pick the dandelions while you might
Blow them into the wind

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, April 2017

Heart with waves of color radiating outward

Young Love

This is after all, a love story
The dumbest people on the planet
Are 20-somethings in love
God bless them

Suck the marrow out of that
Because as the pain comes
And the disappointment comes
We grow to become

Ashamed of our longings
Afraid to express what it is
We really hope for from one another
You get to be free

Young and beautiful for now
You get to not worry
If your body will fail you
In the midst of passion

You don’t have the needs or the wants
The dreams of your little child
To worry about as you run long and hard
Headlong into your own

Go, be, live it.
There are decades of being practical ahead
Be precisely impractical
While you can

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, March 2016

Sands of Time

You do not have that kind of time
You do not have time to put it off
The writing, the painting, the music
Day to day has its demands
Takes its pound of flesh

No, your family doesn’t respect your art
Enough to leave you to it
But if you are compelled
If you write because you must write
You do not have that kind of time

The kind of time that keeps you stuck
In the moment twenty years ago
When your ‘big reveal’ blew up in your face
All the joy you hoped to get out of it
Turned into deep grinding shame

Coated your heart with enough anger
To shield the wound in it
But the hole that is there
Still sucks the sands of your life away
And you do not have that kind of time

Write it out
Ink it
Line it
Fill it with
Crumpled paper drafts

-Copyright C.M. Mounts, May 2016