~Letters from the Monastery of My Heart: XX:~

WordWulf By WordWulf, 12th Mar 2011 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Letters

~beautiful friend~the end~Morrison ~species of fat green snake came here to die when it grew old~Nietzsche~if you're alone~I'll be your shadow~if you want to cry~I'll be your shoulder~Manson~dearer to my soul than its soul-life~Poe~

~Letters from the Monastery of My Heart: XX:~

~A Tear for Boots/For the Love of a Woman~

Years ago, a man I loved and respected told me, “Tough guys don’t have scars.” A man who never learned to lay down, I wondered at that and the railroad tracks walking across bones sewn crooked. Where knives and glass invaded, I learned to love and slay my fellowman.

I stared at the man’s crooked fingers, sawed off and bagged up, four in a row, sewn back on and pointing the wrong way. He was the toughest man I had ever known. Respected and feared, loved and revered, a significant monster amongst monsters, I will always wonder the tear in his eye.

And once he taught me about love, when I shared familiar conversation with his wife, a woman who never spoke to the man she married and lived with in familiar tones that laughter owned. He handed me a hundred dollar bill and bid me take her away quickly to share that piece of life he shared with her. I laid the money on his table and went away, never spoke to the woman again.

I remember the last time I saw him. We met to bury a younger man, a good friend and a man better than the both of us, whose father we’d buried twenty years before. Shovel in my hand, I cried, “Where is our Friend whose laughter so echoed the night?” and our shovels covered him up, they covered him up.

I told my boy, my seventeen-year-old pup, yelling over the straight pipes of my Harley Davidson amongst five thousand others when we went to bury and pay our respects to the better man, “This is where the monster lives, whose side I left to raise you. Respect him and learn to ‘hit the dirt’ when eyes flash and iron clears leather. Then, on my cue, come up fighting”

Where is my Friend on this lonely night, my heart torn and the woman I love, too many words and miles between us. A man should never be alone on a night like this, though monsters too oft’ become when eyes flash and iron clears leather. Boots and the sad man, decades dissolve.

~Tom (WordWulf) Sterner~
~Letters from the Monastery of My Heart: XVIX~
~The Boy and the Wulf~ (a tribute to my son and his dog)[/link[link=page::1sgt0ndn]~The Warrior Angelo~

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author avatar Rathnashikamani
9th Apr 2011 (#)

Fantastic letters from your monastery to the hermitage of my mind.

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author avatar WordWulf
9th Apr 2011 (#)

I love it when you throw words out there like that, Feeds my muse:-)

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