Phantom Limb

Every now and again, I can feel the memory
Like a ghost in my heart
Similar to feeling your phone vibrate in your pocket
When you know full well you left it on your nightstand in the morning
I reach to my chest to catch the sadness to capture it in my hands
So that I can finally throw it out for good
but as quickly as it came, it is gone
-The Ink & Salt Club-


And what if we were to take away the flower you all long so deeply for?
Barbed our fences, dug moats
Will you continue to rip it from our gardens by force?
I will not smile for you
I will not be agreeable for your sake
I will not walk by with my head down
Pretending I didn’t hear you
Remember that, while you sit in your offices and sign your papers
And pass your laws and make your judgements
That the storm is coming
The gasoline has been waiting
You’ve only lit the match
And it will not be a man that rises from its ashes
-The Ink & Salt Club-

To Dream of Jellyfish

I sit cross legged at the bottom of the ocean
Drinking tea from an invisible cup
I dream that you were God…
I whisper to a passing Jellyfish
I have never been God before, he responds
What are the rules?
You create them
From where?
Your heart I imagine, I say, sipping my tea
But I don’t have a heart, nor have I a head
Perhaps it’s best, often I find the heart is unreasonable
And the head will follow the heart blindly
Then how are the rules fair?
They are not

-The Ink & Salt Club-

My Grandfather

My Grandfather died last December and I have tried to write about him ever since but nothing has felt quite right. He was by no means a perfect man, husband or father…but he was my friend. It was never in my place to hold against or forgive him for sins not committed against me.
He often delighted in our similarities, our careers in hospitality, our love for old music but I believe that the real pride lay in our differences. I learned that sometimes it is not best to follow your family’s footsteps exactly but to skip a few and maybe find a better route along the way.
I know from his stories that he made mistakes in his life, many of which he likely regretted earlier than he had ever told me about them. He called more often near the end of his time and the phone calls started to feel more like confessions than conversations. He is gone now, but I want him to know that I heard him, I always heard him and he had never done wrong by me and was always a light and inspiration in my life.
This summer we will spread his ashes into the ocean and I will be able to think of him everytime I hear the breaking of the waves or see the sunset reflecting off the water. Rest well friend.
-The Ink & Salt Club-