If Time is of the Essence

If time is of the essence

And now is all we get

Then why can we not sit

And simply talk a bit

That poem from Josh Magnuson, my dear friend, is one that comes back to me over and over in my mind as a worthy question in life to be addressed to many people in life. Maybe the only poem I've actually memorized. I don't know if he ever published it or even actually wrote it down since he scratched it out somewhere back in the 80's. So, thought I'd pen it here at least once for the public. 

Here's another one of his I do know was published. I have a hand-written version in a letter written in August, 1989 re-written as I have it before me. I assume Josh won't mind me republishing it here. It's a bit darker perhaps, but I like it, and others recognized the power behind it also.

Alcohol*

These figures in a bottle trying to hold my hand

"Come dance and sing and play with us

in a far-off wonderland."

But "No" I say with every breath

that issues from my mind

"The world is filled with short, sweet pleasure

of the most elusive kind.

So go and bother someone else

with your troublesome disguise

And leave me here alone

to seek solace from the skies."

Upon my speech they went away 

And not a word did speak.

But in the night, when my bed surrounds me

I wonder where they sneak

For life and all its drudgery

Are too easily undone

By a warm and easy atmosphere

And these figures in my rum.

*No, I'm not an alcoholic. I just see the different avenues of escaping from the "malaise" or "self as a vacuous hole" horrors.

Just thought I'd share a few treasures from my life from days gone by. Thanks, Josh. And a happy upcoming birthday.

Mitchell