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ENTRY FOUR: TIMES |
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Photo by Bob Gentry ©2001
Stanyan Entertainment
A Thought for Today
Love works best when we don’t work at it.
To write about you isn't easy.
Compare it to a blind that on its spring flaps up to smash the window casing. To praise or
talk about you would do more injury than compliment.
Within my own heart's head, I remember sun in California, mid-Manhattan corridors and
hotel beds, a Sunday walk within Miami's mall. Island nights of fireflies and lightning.
Some pages in my diary are blotted or unused. Those must have been the happiest of times,
for who can jot down happiness when it is happening? Bad times? Sure.
Still in this year together I have never once considered life or lifetime to be anything
but synonymous with you.
- from
"Coming Close To The Earth", 1977
Details of Rod's upcoming concerts
and appearances can be obtained via the link below:
Rod
McKuen Concerts & Appearances
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Susan B. Anthony
o Harold Arlen o John Barrymore o Jeremy Bentham o Claire Bloom o Ron Cey o Chris Farley o James Forrestal o Matt Groening o Graham Hill o Harvey Korman o Jean Langlais o Hank Locklin o Melissa Manchester o Kevin McCarthy o Renee O'Connor o Sax Rohmer o Cesar Romero o James Schlesinger o Jane Seymour o Gale Sondergaard o Charles Tiffany o Alfred North
Whitehedd |
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The heart has its
reasons.
How can we assume such easiness with each other and still
remain so insecure.
I love you enough to let you run, but far too much to let you
fly.
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BEHAVIOR AT THE BEACH |
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I try to keep
from pushing up against you
on the street
in public places
here at this hardly public beach,
even coming up behind you
softly, stealthily, when we’re at home.
Admittedly my effort
to put a hold on how I feel
is hardly any effort at all,
love has taken hold
of any sensibilities I had
or given me
so many senses of another kind
that even your embarrassment
at open fondling
that should be saved for privacy
fails to keep my hands
in even well-worn pockets.
Just now
the beach is filled
with people making love
and building several hundred
unimportant conversations.
We say nothing.
There is no necessity for speech
between us
but I roll over every twenty minutes
to rub you down with oil
supposedly
against the sun,
‘til finally you’re layered
like a channel swimmer
or a lacquer box in progress.
I doubt the sun will find its way
through so much petroleum.
The day done we’ll go home
and you’ll be paler than an egg.
Did I really once perceive you
as a friend?
Oh you are, but so much more.
I hope my trusted friends
of long standing and seniority
will understand why I’ve become
to them a missing person.
If they came upon me now
I’m sure they’d find me certifiable
for any institution they could name.
Come into the water. Uncross
your fingers, I promise to behave,
besides you’re slippery
as an overflowing lamp. I’ll scrub
your back with cool, wet sand.
You can float head up, face down,
at your pleasure, supported by
my forearm steady underneath
your breasts.
You see, I can be counted on
to be good natured as a friend
and as a lover to behave.
- From "Looking For A Friend", 1980 |
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