FOR MR. ROY...

JANIS JOPLIN: KOZMIC BLUES (FOR JON)

VOW OF SILENCE ENDED: WHAT'S UP WITH FACEBOOK?

I don't get the popularity of Facebook or Twitter. It's all links (no original poetry or writing), and the same thing is going on with the aftermath of the 2016 election. Ten words or less, and we're supposed to believe the intelligence and sincerity of people that don't want (or care) to invest the time in composing a meaningful post?

How much easier to click on a link that makes little or no sense? This is sad. Does anybody do any actual research anymore? Oh, and the whole "Friends" issue: I seem to recall reading a Facebook post about a a fortysomething depressed woman that stated she was going to kill herself.

Guess what, people. Even though she had hundreds of  Facebook "Friends" - she was encouraged to take her own life. Which she ultimately did.

Jesus Christ on a cracker:  I think I'll stay at Blogger. At least I'll be able to stay alive. At least I hope so.

I GET BY WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS

for Roy

Since we must not die
Fight the system till the end
And love our true friends

Haiku © 2015 by Dylan Mitchell

LET US PRAISE THE HUMBLE PHONE BOOTH...

Phone Booth (the movie)

God, I miss the humble phone booth. We never had a phone when I was growing up, so the only way I could call somebody (even during an emergency) was to hotfoot it to the phone booth right across the street from our apartment.

Apart from the affordable cost (10 cents), it was really cool to hang out in the heated booth for an hour or two during the winter. I'd often bring along a cup of coffee, dial up a few friends and just make myself at home. It was a safe place where I could feel more connected to people and the world.

Just about everybody I know has a cell phone now, and I cannot remember the last time I saw a phone booth. I sometimes check out movies from the library that feature an awesome phone booth moment or two: The Birds, A Patch of Blue, Superman, Rosemary's Baby, The Rose, and Phone Booth - which I'm pretty sure is the only movie in which a phone booth is the biggest star. (Oddly enough, I was never shot at, verbally abused by hookers, or bothered by people when I visited my phone booth during the early 1970s. It really is a different world now...)

By the way, I haven't seen any of the new Superman movies. How does Clark Kent manage to become Superman now that phone booths have become obsolete? Does he dash into the nearest Men's room or something? Perhaps at a public library? That's the only place I can think of that will allow its patrons to use the Men's room for free. At most establishments he'd have to buy/order something first, and stand in line for a good ten minutes or so. It's all a sad mystery to me. Let us praise the humble phone booth.

Essay © 2015 by Dylan Mitchell

DOUBT

(for Roy)

I knew the shoes were old at
the start. But I was still
happy to find them

on the "Free Table" in the
basement of my expensive
high rise

apartment building. I loved
the classic black and white
colors

of the fabric. But failed
to pay much attention to
the much abused soles.

And proudly wore them in
public (after two baptisms
in the costly washer).

But God was not impressed. One
day (while carrying a heavy
load of food and water)

my left sole came completely
undone - and I still had
one more mile to go.

I began to walk with a
conspicuous limp. People
stopped and stared

as if I'd finally revealed
my true damaged soul. But
I held my head high

until I'd made it back home.
Then you arrived with a
pair of much

better shoes: And saved my
feet and soul
quicker than

any prayers I'd prayed to
Jesus and his
diminishing saints.

And I found God in my doubt.

Poem © 2013 by Dylan Mitchell

FOR ANOTHER MARY

If I seemed cold and casual
during our last minutes -
let me say I am sorry.

But I was already numb by the
news and the nails. So I took
the easy way out -

and did not bother to say what
mattered most: You wanted me
to live while so many wished for

my early death. And I could no
longer figure out the bad from
the good. But I still said my

prayers each night. And hoped
Jesus or Mother Mary might
prove the worldly ones

wrong. And you held my hand
during that dark journey
until the good news came.

And I will always love you for that.

Poem © 2011 by Dylan Mitchell

Remembering John MacKenzie

What can you say about a brilliant artist, friend, and a great spirit -
after he has left this world forever?
I only know what I can say, and I tried to express my love and admiration for John in a poem I wrote. But it somehow doesn't seem enough.

John MacKenzie passed away on May 3, 2011. He was 89 years old. And he was my dear friend for 12 years.

John listened to me endlessly gripe (when I was in a deep depression). He designed the cover of my first chapbook of poems (for free). He fed me when I was broke and hungry. He encouraged me to make the most of life - even as his own health declined.

He believed art made life worth living. And he was still painting on May 3rd - his last day on this earth. So it's too difficult to say goodbye. I prefer, "I'll be seeing you." And I thank you much for all of your patience and love.

VAN GOGH'S CROWS

If I should die
as the sun sets
and the crows fly

will you forget me?
If I should die
as my blood drips

and the saints cry
will you remember me?
After the paint's dry

and the critics lie
and the crows die
will you forget me?

After I die
and a new sunrise
and the crows fly

will you remember me?

Poem © 2009 by Dylan Mitchell