• lonely •

I love that word,
Even as a misnomer,
it’s a myth.
But a myth that gives credence
to a feeling
that is a first indicator
of an open mind:
the one on the other side
of your head.
Feed it. Listen to it.
Ask it what it wants,
to feel happy.
It will speak in dreams,
and impressions,
and (sometimes) songs
and other voices.
The word is a signpost
of an open line,
a siren song,
a gift.
~ Tim Burchfield



• a humdinger •

You might find it ironic
for me to describe Chronic,
a story about death and dying,
as ‘a slice of life’.
In fact, throughout,
the question of ‘why?’,
and ‘why me?’,
seems pervasive,
and unanswerable,
which it is, except, for me,
‘and why not?’,
‘and why not (me)?’,
keeps rolling through my head,
Is it just me, I wonder,
or do others see this life
as an equal opportunity
or journey,
or what have you,
and that moral judgements
as to good or bad outcomes,
or of success or happiness,
and whatnot, cannot
truly be assessed
until after the final curtain falls,
so you’ll never know it yourself,
truth be told, friend,
being dead and all?
So, it’s a question for family,
and society,
and friends,
and ‘former friends’,
and what have you,
to make the call.
And honestly, who cares
what other people think, anywhoo?
So, don’t complain;
choose to be happy,
or fulfilled, or engaged,
or grateful, or enthralled,
or stoic, or philosophical,
or selfless, or starry-eyed,
or evangelical, or ‘evolved’ –
just between we two,
it’s up to you –
whatever floats your boat.
It’s a one way ride,
and frequently fabulous.
Enjoy the view.
Oh, and on a final note,
the movie (with Tim Roth),
is a humdinger, too.
~ Tim Burchfield


• to joy •

To the sheer joy of being creatively inspired, intellectually challenged, and emotionally, and otherwise, fulfilled. To good friends, and good company. I offer this as an endorsement, and a reminder, that that’s who we really are, and not, as some would have us believe, this (recent), ‘other thing’. May we soon ‘remember’, who we are, in essence: how really very good, and generous and supportive and giving we can be, as an integral part of our world, the times in which we live, and our community.
~ Tim Burchfield

• pride of place •

Walking the dogs this morning,
a fall day of such excellence,
crystal air, cerulean blue,
the sun, like a cool pearl
against the skin.
Up the street, a man on his bike,
peddled towards us,
holding a styro cup,
which he tossed away, carelessly,
it’s contents splattering everywhere.
I got mad. What to do?
“What, you couldn’t find a trash can, man?”
Even with his earbuds in,
he did hear me, and from
the way he looked away, I knew.
He just peddled on. He didn’t care.
He was just passing through.
(I picked it up, and brought it with.)
I never realized I had any ‘pride of place’, but apparently, I do.
~ Tim Burchfield