29.4.24

Hawai'i Departure


 It never gets any easier to leave these beloved islands and these beloved people. My friend Patricia is on Hospice. Memories came rushing back from our friendship in the years that I spent here in this place that I love so much and I ready myself for the flight back to America. Because to me and I think many others Hawai’i is not America, it was never America, it does not belong to America. It is and should be a nation unto itself.  My heart is breaking and I think not just because of my friend, but all of them and my happiness that I’m able to love this place so much.  I think about returning because I have so many friends I have seen and I got the distinct overwhelming loving feeling that I could come back to a life here with Victoria.

Aloha aina. Malama Pono. 



25.4.24

Hawai’i Return

 I’ve returned to say goodbye to a friend in hospice   It’s difficult to see, to say goodbye but an honor in the same moment.  After landing in Honolulu I dissolved in tears   It is not just my friend  It is returning to my own past and all its attendant memories. I miss this place, people and cultures.  

Then it occurs to me it is also the sadness from the way in which I left in 1999.  I learned my father was dying.  So part of it is my father’s death.  That sadness and sense of being uprooted from everything I had known and grown to love and cultures I had embraced. It was being ripped, torn and up rooted from a life.  So I flew back to my father’s dying and death. The winter of my discontent, to darkness, sadness in unending rain, overcast darkness for months while I waited for my dad to die.  This is my sadness. It was my sadness but is no more. 

24.4.24

One Last Time Go I

 One last time Go I

To the edge of ocean and tide.

where memory and foam obscure the past

and the present bears me far from home.


Healing and threatening

the waves of senselessness and purpose

the beating of my heart

sand between my toes, under my feet

the endless wash and wave of time and tide.

 

This is my heart you and I know.

universal beat of blood and salt

so comforting in the days and nights

while your lovers heart merges

and beats as one.

 

Take me back

Return me now whence I came

the villages and islands of my dreams

faces of all whom I have loved and love.


Saltwater fills my nose and eyes and heart

Is it the Pacific or my tears does it matter the fear . . . 

of what was and will be lost yet gained again.


I shall offer my heart, the loving kindness 

of friendship, the common humanity and every day struggle and joy

and . . . and . . . and we could go on could we not?


So fare well it must be and a welcoming

of something we all must have. 

In the end of the beginning these words have all been said.

In the end is the love we have shared,

the things we have done,

the people cared for, 

the laughter, the music, the films, the drinks.

 

We had some times didn't we . . .

See you.  See you. See you.

On the flip side.

 

One last times go we to the Oceans edge and depths

to let us cradle and rock

in light filled sound of hissing and crackling

and crashing and rocking of our lives.

 

    David McCullough

    April 2024


27.2.24

There You Lie Down (a poem of my father)

 

There You Lie Down

 

Up in there, in the shadowed and sunlit glen . . . you will lie.

Scattered amongst the meadow where we hunted.

You a man, with your boys, your sons.

Wanting to be like you, yet unlike you.

Hunting for what it is to be a boy then a man.

 

You are there now, scattered in the meadows and soaring trees,

Your harrowed flesh and bone and ashes of your desire

Now, now, and now again, memories born and die again,

part of the fabric of the universe and our lives.

 

Soon the trees that are you will die and be reborn,

A house, a bed, a chair, a crib with a rocking baby softly cooing.

There you will lie . . . thinking what has become of me?

Their remains, like you, pass on and new growth echoes. 

 

There you will lie . . .

Scattered amongst the trees of memory and our footprints,

With sounds of our tears, our chats, our dreams of you, what has been and will be.

The atoms, quarks, and particles of an expanding universe

Careening to immutable laws,

Resulting in birth, life, death ad infinitum.

 

 

David McCullough

February 26, 20224

20.2.24

Six Years

 

 


 

For Vic . . . 

Six years ago today I was engaged in what for me was a titanic struggle to regain my soul, life and who I was.  Little did I know what was to come in this life.  But I know this . . . that being with you has been the single greatest joy of my life.  Together we make a great team as we live, love and laugh our way with all that we have created.  Thank you for loving me, having the courage to take the initiative to kiss me six years ago, that leap into the constant unknown.  Your wisdom enabled you to trust your heart, intuition and your own need for freedom to be who you are and to be happy.  You are the love of my life.

6.2.24

We Do What We Can . . .

 We do what we can.

To save peoples lives.

To heal and mend.

hold their hands in the midst of suffering

while doing a million other task

to look them in the eyes.


We cannot help those who will not help themselves

down the road to self destruction

who say they are ok with the dying.


once the dying starts

The tune we all dance to begins to change

I do not want to die

Most of us do not want . . .

to die.


Time and years.

life becomes tenuous and increasingly precious

the less beats and breaths remain to be taken.

 

    David McCullough

    February 6, 2024




26.1.24

Tet

Killing

Fucking

Drinking

 

Yep, 1967 to 1968 one of the best and worse years of my life.

Was there for Tet.

Artillery.

 

Got sprayed, coated in Agent Orange.  

Over and over. 

Not dead, not yet.

 

Green Beret got some steaks for my birthday,

shipped em out of Saigon.  Giant fuckin T-Bones.

Giant Birthday cake.

 

Yeah,  It was a good year. 

Too much of everything.

Not enough of nothing.


    Army veteran

    January 26, 2024

22.1.24

Haunted by an Image

    In 1987 while I was a Peace Corps volunteer in Fiji I met the then New Zealand Minister Of Railways and Transportation and his Fijian wife.  We got to know each other well enough that they invited me to visit them when I was going to be in New Zealand.

    I was there for almost a month mainly in Auckland but also visited Wellington.  I took to riding the bus a lot while I was there.  It is always a great way to see and visit with people and observe everyday interactions - the ones that make up most of our lived moments.

    One of the most haunting images I remember is that of two Maori kids maybe in thier early to late teens.  A boy and girl, small in stature, both beautiful.  They were in the back of the bus and had a huge zip-lock bag of clear glue they were sniffing and inhaling.  Their eyes were wide and staring. Unblinking as they gazed out upon the world.

    Who knew what they were thinking?  Not I.  At 26 years old at that time I knew so little of the tides and winds that made the world what it is.  Nor little of the history of colonialism, coercion, lies and violence visited not just upon the Maori but the other indigenous people of the world.  I do not wish to paint any of them JUST as victims.  That robs them of identity and me of any humanity I cling to and treasure.

    But still . . . that image remains with me to this day.  It speaks of oppression, lost culture, denigration, violence both physical and mental. 

    How does a culture come back from this?  I look to the Maori for the answers to that, they have spoken, they have regained some of what was lost and I have no right to speak for them in any way.  I can look to them for teaching however.  To learn from them and absorb.

    I remain and sit with that memory of their thousand yard stare and my interpretation of hopelessness in their eyes.  My projection of hopelessness is a more accurate statement. I did not stop to ask why or if I could help.  I had never seen that before and felt that it was something I could do nothing about.  Now of course, if it was my country and my moral duty to act . . . I would speak up.

I will always wonder . . . and hope.


11.7.23

Elegy for Liza Bird

Elegy for Liza Bird

Fly free
Fly free at last my bird friend
I know you so little
With your hidden feathers
And hidden mind
With thoughts and dreams
Only you know now.  

We've come for our hellos and goodbyes 
To see you off to an undiscovered land
Awaiting us all.  

You're amidst the living and the dead
We'll surround you with our talking, 
Drink your wine, look at your fotos and life, 
Already missing you and your feathered perspectives. 

Fly and fly again 
Fly from birth
Born towards dying we are. 
Our Flight from birth onwards. 

Spread your wings now
Suns rising…setting…rising
Endless wash of wave and tide. 

 

 

David McCullough
July 10, 2023 @ 9:15 pm
Santa Rosa, California

 As I wrote this Liza took her last breath. Poems are for the living and the dead.  This ones for you Liza … and the ones who have loved you.  Godspeed. 

30.6.23

Bugge missing Bowie

Bugge.  Still missing his dead brother as far as we can tell he likes to smell and play with the tracker that Bowie used to wear around his neck.


21.6.23

 This last weekend we spent time at my family property near Salt Point State Park.  We have owned the land since 1962 and I have spent much time there off and on since then.  The community is a wonderful one in that despite the physical distance between land/houses and people, there is a lot of networking and support.  The Timbercove Volunteer Fire Department is exactly that - all volunteer and is closely supported by the community. 

No one ever instructs us that fairness does not exist.  Instead, we have our heads filled with the IDEA of fairness, equality and democracy.  The Americans idealize and trumpet their so called Democracy.  These ideals are only that . . . to be striven for and aspired to but in the end . . . they are only ideals.  There is nothing fair about death and how it comes to us most of the time.

It has been a week exactly since our Bowie Cat died.  Reflecting on the capriciousness of life and death, fairness and equality.  There are many that live that deserve death and vice versa.   

16.6.23

Blood in the Street - Bowie Cat, Killed by a hit and run Truck.


 On June 14, 2023 our cat, Bowie Cat was killed by a hit and run truck.  We had gone to work a half hour earlier, kissed our Bowie Cat and his brother Bugge goodbye and always said to them, Be careful, don't die today.

One does not live in this world without inherent risk. We planned, executed the safety plan as best we could.  In the larger scheme of world crises we remain aware of the tentativeness of all things and the scale.  Yet, sadness persist.

    I got the call @ 0800 from our friend and neighbor John.  I walked over to tell Vic in the PT department.  We got home around 0815 and John had put Bowie in a box with a towel and washed the blood off the street.  I looked at Bowie enough to know it was instant and instantly horrible.  For Bowie Cat was a beauty.  A seal tan and black long drink of beauty with shimmering blue eyes that made him more human than cat, more of a wonderful mysterious alien than something of this world.

The boys . . . shot through a screen door.  Bowie Cat on the left and Bugge Cat on the right.  Three years old, they were brothers, litter-mates from the beginning of time, attached with an almost visible line of love and an unknowing of what it ever could mean to be without, without the other, without a brother.  They often moved as one organism.    

It has always amazed me with extreme wonderment at how animals, cats in this instance, can leave their mark upon our hearts, heads, emotions and most of all in our ability to love.  They can, if allowed, teach us to be more human and as complicated as it can be, as hard as it can be, to let love in the gate and become more open to the world.  All by loving these small simple furry creatures.  

I do not know much about cat grief for the loss of a brother.  I only know mine which is deeper and more bountiful than I ever could have known.  In a sense, they were there at the beginning of our life in the house we live in now.  We, in conjunction with the Cat Boys, made a home.  And now, with much sadness and grief we are bereft and mourning the loss of our friend and buddy, Bowie.

Bugge shows his grief by climbing into the box holding the body of his dead brother. That is my interpretation but when he meows over and over, pawing at Bowie to get up to wrestle, to play, to fight and roll in the dirt . . . that is the love and grief of a missing half.  This I choose to believe.  If nothing else he knows the smell of death, the stillness that it brings.


It is an honor to love.  A chore, a delight, a cosmic mishmash of what it means to be human or an animal in this universe.  We choose to love most of the time or at least to let love in the gate, to attach itself to our hearts and psyche.  At other times love comes to us from nowhere, knocking at those damn gates, intent to be let in, not to be forgotten, insistent on its acceptance into our innermost sanctums.  I will not disregard such a gift.

 

Bowie Blue Eyes . . . they get you every time. 


He could be Buddha like.  Or maybe he was Buddah.  Whatever he was and is now,  He is loved.  He was the type of cat who would run out to the sidewalk and greet people walking by.  Neighborhood walkers would stop and wait for him.  The local children knew him.  Our very young neighbor next door would come over and call him, Bowieeee, Bowieeee. Bowieee, Bowieee.  Over and over again in her small sweet voice.  And out of the woodwork would come Bowie and then they would stop, stock still and just stare at each other before finally the petting and loving began.

Thank you Bowie. Thank you for hanging with us as long as you did.  Rescued with your brother from a field of dreams only to die on the street of despair.  You had three incredible great years on this planet. You brought such laughter and joy to the lives we created with you and Bugge.

From such a small creature came an outsized capacity to effect others and bring a deeply satisfying peace and stillness of mind . . . then to shrieking laughter in an instant. These are the gifts of Bowie Cat.  I am sad but grateful.  I am grateful and honored.  My tears flow composed of all things great and small, love and fear, sadness and joy, knowledge of death and life. The unsparing nature of the universe and the endless wash of wave and tide from whence all things are borne.   Grief and sadness lies upon our hearts but over all that is the triumph of joy, love and happiness. 

Thank you Bowie Cat for all these things and more.


 









14.2.23

It Is Enough to Love

 

You

You make me cackle with wild laughter.

It is not why I love you. 

 

You drive me mad with desire,

But again, it is not why I love you.

 

You amaze me with your intellect,

But once again it is not why I love you.

 

You delight me in the breadth of your interest.

But again and again, this is not why I love you.

 

You make me crazy with passion and weak in my knees,

Still, this is not why I love you.

 

You take my breath away with your beauty,

Yes, yes, yes, it is still not why I love you.

 

Your knowledge of this expansive world cultures and languages amazes me,

But in no way is this why I love you.

 

You hold my love in your heart

For this and all these things . . . 

are not why I love you.

Just to love . . .

That is enough.