From a magpie.

A dear old friend sent this song to me in an email today, and she told me it would break my heart, but she said it was good for a Thursday on repeat, and boy was she right.



I feel so helpless now, my guitar is not around
and i'm struggling with the xylophone to make these feelings sound
and i'm remembering you singing and bringing you to life
It's raining out the window and today it looks like night

You haven't written to me in a week i wonder why that is
are you too nervous to be lovers-- friendships ruined with just one kiss kiss
I watched you very closely and i saw you look away
your eyes are either gray or blue i'm never close enough to say

But your sweatshirt says it all with the hood over your face
I can't keep staring at your mouth without wondering how it tastes
I'm with another boy (he's asleep, i'm wide awake )
and he tried to win my heart, but it's taken . . . . . time

I know the shape of your hands because i watch em when you talk
and i know the shape of your body cause i watch it when you walk
and i want to know it all but i'm giving you the lead . . . . .. . .. .
So go on, go on and take it, don't fake it, shake it

Don't second guess your feelings you were right from the start
and i notice she's your lover, but she's nowhere near your heart
This city is for strangers, like the sky is for the stars
But i think it's very dangerous if we do not take what's ours

And i'm winning you with words because i have no other way
I want to look into your face without your eyes turning away
Last night i watched you sing because a person has to try
And i walked home in the rain because a person can not lie

From the God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy

"Some things come with their own punishments. Like bedrooms with built-in cupboards. They would all learn more about punishments soon. That they came in different sizes. That some were so big they were like cupboards with built-in bedrooms. You could spend your whole life in them, wandering through dark shelving."

Thursday.

Everything I can think to write
Is bullshit.
Because it's been written before.
In blacker ink and bluer blood,
On hotter days than this, on colder nights
By women who have lost more
Lost life, lost children, lost the sorts of things
That leave permanent gouges in the skin
Everything I could say has been said before - but not by me.

It's my first time on this trail.
I'm cutting away branches, ripping briars from my skin, toes sinking in mud, trudging forward
Bushwhacking my way through Thursdays, sleeping through Saturdays.
It feels like a concussion.
Me, begging everyone to let me fall asleep,
Them, slapping my face, keeping me up
Forward, they say.
And the vines on the trail grow so fast --like serpents, the sky darker.

scrawled on cement.

The summer grows hazier by the day.
Walking the pipeline last Sunday
When the river was clear and cold
My unsteady hands wavered and
The river claimed my compass.
I watched it sink
Into the mud and thought about diving after it
But I don't need direction when all I want to do
Is stand still.

I've been carrying a thick, white piece of chalk around with me
It marks up the inside of my back pocket
But it's useful for scrawling
Drawing hearts on buildings
"Do something pretty while you can" on the sidewalk at 3am.
I wrote your name
Smeared it with my hand
Not to take it away
But to take it with me
As I navigate this world without you
A time in my life which my poor, ragged heart
Will not allow me to think
is forever.

I'm proud of myself for something,
but I'm not quite sure what.

Harley family

Oh yes.

Procession

A police escort
7 bikes of marines
Us 8 in the limo
And at least 50 cars follow
Goodbye uncle mike.

Four bronze stars, one golden heart. RIP uncle mike.

PEABODY — Mr. Michael Kehoe, 67, a longtime resident of Peabody, passed away peacefully Wednesday, July 8, 2009 after a brief illness. He was born April 11, 1942 in Brooklyn, N.Y., son of the late Michael Leo and Margaret (Mooney) Kehoe.

A former Marine Corps Sergeant, from 1960 to 1968, he was a Drill Instructor at Parris Island, S.C. He was a disabled veteran who served faithfully with the Thundering Third Battalion Fourth Regiment of Marines Company "I" in Vietnam from 1967 to 1968. He was the recipient of the Vietnam Service Medal with four bronze stars, the Meritorious Unit Commendation Ribbon with one bronze star, Republic of Vietnam Meritorious Unit Citation, and the Gallantry Cross Medal. Following his military career, he entered law enforcement and retired in 1993 from the Swampscott Police Department as Sergeant after a 23 year career.

He is survived by his wife of 44 years, Carol-Lee (Armstrong) Kehoe; a daughter Patricia Elaine (Kehoe) and son-in-law Michael Peturrson of Leicester; a son Sean Michael and daughter-in-law Tanya (Anderson) Kehoe of Kensington, N.H.; a granddaughter Lee-Ann Pereira and great-grandson Adam Pereira of Peabody; two step-grandchildren Hayden and Elizabeth Petursson. He also leaves behind three sisters, Patricia Cannon and her husband Bernard of Long Island, NY, Margaret Massa and her husband Lawrence of Brooklyn, NY and Ann-Marie Stone and her husband Bruce of Port Monmouth, NJ, one brother James Kehoe and his wife Maureen of Middletown, N.J.; a sister-in-law Robin Talbot Thebodeau of Dublin, N.H. as well as many nieces and nephews.

He was an Honorary Life Member of the American Legion Post 227 in Middleton where he served as Commander for several years, life member of Marine Corps League in Peabody, member of US Marine Corps Drill Instructors Association, Member of VFW Post 1240 in Peabody, life member of AMVETS Post 6 in Lynn, member of Disabled American Veterans Chapter 100 in Peabody, and former member of the Blue Knights of Topsfield.

ARRANGEMENTS:- His funeral service will be held in the Peterson-O'Donnell Funeral Home, 167 Maple St. (Route 62), Danvers, Saturday, at 10 a.m. Relatives and friends invited. Visiting hours Friday 4 to 7 p.m. Interment in Puritan Lawn Memorial Park, Peabody. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the America's Vet Dog Program, in Memory of Michael Kehoe, 371 East Jericho Turnpike, Smithtown, NY 11787 Or American Legion Post 227 Scholarship Fund, P.O. Box 227, Middleton, MA 01949. For more information inquire at 978-774-6600. Online guest book at www.legacy.com.

Week 1

The first Thursday was beautiful and warm
My hands shook as I parked the car
And I knew
That most likely the black bean and corn thing
That I choose for you from ellwoods
Would be my melancholy Friday lunch
But for the first time in my life
I can see clearly
That there are some things worth waiting for.