No RegretsJournal

Issue 1 Spring 2009

A journal of poetry, words and images documenting twists and turns of the human condition in the search for love, meaning and community.

No Regrets JournalWebsite: noregretsjournal.comemail: claymedeiros@noregretsjournal.com

Editor

Clayton Medeiros is a poet and collage artist interested in myth, spirituality, love, the human condition and the search for meaning. claymedeiros@noregrets.com

Contributors

Kim von See grew up in Garland, Texas and escaped to the Pacific Northwest as soon as she could. She lives in downtown Bellingham with several plants.

Neil McKay has been published in Fishwrapper, Gumball Poetry and Menʼs Health Magazine. He has featured at the Seattle Poetry Slam with Robert Lashley and Kim von See and he performed with Clayton Medeiros at Phrasings, a collaboration of Bellingham Repertory Dance and Chuckanut Sandstone Writers Theater.

Robert Lashley was a semifinalist for a 2007 Pen/Rosenthal fellowship. He is trying to be an honest man and a good writer.

Submissions

Submissions are by invitation of the editor or contributors.

Copyright

All rights remain with the authors.

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Table of Contents

Loneliness Essay" " Clayton Medeiros

billy collins" " " " Kim von See

minneolas " " " " Kim von See

perhaps we should never have broken up " " " Kim von See

Yepsin"" " " " Neil McKay

What I Should Have Said Was" Neil Mckay

Walls" " " " " Neil Mckay

That Night in the Apartment House"" " " " Neil McKay

Who and Why We Are" " Clayton Medeiros

To The Homeboys Who RideBikes Past The Dope HousesOn State Street" " " Robert Lashley

Homeboy Watches DopeFiends Go By " " " Robert Lashley

Loneliness Words " " " Clayton Medeiros

Cars Hissing"" " " Clayton Medeiros

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Ruth Stone" " " " Clayton Medeiros

Gestures" " " " Clayton Medeiros

Armed And Ready" " " Clayton Medeiros

Sadness " " " " Clayton Medeiros

The Disappeared" " " Clayton Medeiros

Lost Love Blues" " " Clayton Medeiros

All Collages " " " " Clayton Medeiros

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Loneliness and Spirituality

Contemporary life and society are quandaries for many people. There is no sense of an inward call to purpose or of intrinsic divinity in the world. No credible external call to meaning or purpose resonates for them. Many people have such limited exposure to the possibility of intention in life that floundering from place to place and relationship to relationship seems reasonable. Given a limited sense of self, the likelihood of fulfillment by adding another actor to the mix is slim. Often a preference for as much alcohol and drug induced anesthetic as possible accompanies the frenetic life journey.

We tend to feel incomplete as human beings. We search to make ourselves whole in endless quests for true love, faith and belief. Loneliness is interpersonal, being alone in society, and, spiritual, being without a sense of place in the universe. Some thinkers believe that our need to be in love comes from the idea that Adam was complete before Eve was made from his body. Whether the Bible is inviolable truth or metaphorical, Adam and Eve are powerful characters who, among other ideas, speak to the desire for another in our life. The Jewish Hasidic tradition tells of couples joined in heaven and separated when they are born into the world. If they are true to their faith, they find one another here.

We sit in coffee shops, late night bars, forever hopeful the door will open to a special someone to complete us. There is a human need to share with others. We want totell the story of who we are, who we have been and whowe want to be. We want to hear the story of who they

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are, who they have been, and where they wish to go from here. If all goes well, we may come together and begin a story about us and what we want for the future. Our story is shared with others and we become part of a broader community.

In my own case, the son of a single mom, I endlessly searched for the wise old man, someone I could turn to for guidance about how to lead my life. When I was five, I told my mother that I wanted an older brother for my birthday. Male guidance was not available in my family where men were narcissistic, closed, alcoholic or both. Instead of being in charge of this search, I allowed people to choose me for relationships. Although initially satisfying, it was detrimental in the long run. I was a master of poor choices by not choosing

Our relationships are colored by what we hear and see in our families. Psychiatrists talk about the inclination to marry our mothers and fathers. We are drawn to their characteristics even when they are dysfunctional. I have given my daughters strong advice to be very careful. The more integrated we are in our own search for self and meaning; the more likely it is we will make good choices in relationships. To the extent that we do not come to terms with gaps such as my lack of a father, the search for meaningful relationships has many twists and turns.

The solution to spiritual loneliness is often sought in religionʼs endless variations. We accept Christ as our personal savior, achieve Zen's Sartori, become empty of

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self and the delusion of the 10,000 things of Taoism or adopt the comprehensive personal and social structure that Confucianism offers. The universe provides us with limitless possibilities and opportunities. For some there is only a single path. Fundamentalist Muslims and Christians believe they have found the only true way.

All cultures share archetypes as Jung called them, the wise old man, the wise old woman, the magician, and the hero that are part of our unconscious and conscious lives and dreams or simply linger at the edge of our day. The search for spiritual enlightenment and meaningful relationships lends itself to the shared stories inherent in archetypes. Princes and princesses, knights on white horses, and damsels with long tresses down their backs are all archetypal figures. We commonly refer to them when we talk about our relationships. Our drive to have someone in our life is driven by conscious and unconscious needs and desires.

The archetypes help us to interpret the world of the conscious and unconscious as they interact with one another. For example, these usually wise figures often manifest in our lives as teachers or professors in our educational years or bosses in our work life. They become our mentors and offer guidance in our emotional, intellectual and career development. These archetypes do not have content until they are manifest for an individual. Each person's experience is unique within the

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type. Yet the types themselves are universal the world over. Gods, daemons, angels, fairies and related figures are a vital source of psychic energy and imagination in all cultures.

Carl Jung said, "Archetypal statements are based upon instinctive preconditions and have nothing to do with reason; they are neither rationally grounded nor can they be banished by rational arguments." They are always with us as key actors in the world of myth with gods, goddesses, heroes, wizards and witches. Carl Jung said, “The need for mythic statements is satisfied when we frame a view of the world which adequately explains the meaning of human existence in the cosmos, a view which springs from our psychic wholeness, from the cooperation between the conscious and unconscious.”

We can find our place in relationships and in the spiritual realm to the extent that we understand who we are. Self knowledge is a necessary ingredient for success in love and in spiritual endeavors.

Clayton Medeiros

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billy collins

has probably been married long enough that he and his wife can love each other fiercelyand comfortably from across the house, drinking from their seperate cups.he buys apples just to look at them, to contemplate their existence in the blue porcelain bowl. i picture him in my city. having never seen a photograph, he could be the deaf man on the bus, watching the cars flatten the street into the ground, listening to the quiet world, moved to the bones by one line from nabokov.

Kim von See

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minneolas

my friend says they're the best fruit.perhaps because they're mostly seedlessor an obnoxious shade of orange like their slightly larger cousins. the name, not something they teach you in school, limits their audience to those brave enough to choose from the shelf the one with a name that sounds both like a part of a woman's anatomy and a town in the midwest. peeling my breakfast in one slow curl, i think of a bad movie i have always loved and the scene in which one young lover splits one almost violently in half and offers a dripping chunk to the other young lover and asks, innocently, mouth full of bleeding fruit, "want some?"

Kim von See

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perhaps we should never have broken up

i'm trying to invitepoetry back into my life, like it was an ex-boyfriend."i'm going to be at temple barthis evening with a very fancynotebook," i'll say, andwink like i've got somethingstuck in my eye.

Kim von See

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Yepsin

Laura is one of the bibliobibuli.She reads too much.She has a book of unusual words andshe tells me that melolagnia issexual desire aroused by music.By way of example she blushes andtells me of a country singer with avoice that resonates so lowit makes her panties fall off

Eutexia, she says,is the quality of melting easily.She does not elaborate.Instead, she yawns and stretches ina fluid motion she tells me is calledpandiculation.

She laughs when I excuse myselffor a visit to my lover--a cinqasept,according to the book.Literally from five to seven, she says.Think you can last that long?My turn to blush and I have noresponse. Apahsia, she calls that.

The next time I see her, she isfilipendulous--hanging by a thread.She tells me she feels like coprolitefossilized excrement.She has been hit with a recombentibusa knock-down blow.

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She says my book doesn't seem to have a wordfor the feeling in your stomachwhen the country singer's father greets you and askshave you met his girlfriend?

She needs an instrument to measure units of pain.How many algons before the algometer redlines?The feeling of being unloved is aphilophrenia.But that thought is a tacendaa thing better left unsaid.

Myself, I try to get my heart brokena little more every day.Mithraditism is when you develop an immunity to poisonby taking gradually increased doses of it.A yepsin is the amount you can hold in your cupped handsand the scar that forms on a healed woundis called a cicatrix.

But after she leaves, I think ofa witty retort--a tintiddle if it comes too late.I cup my hands to hold a yepsin full of algons,and say, to myself, we have things in commonwe are osculant.

Neil McKay

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What I Should Have Said Was

Sitting in the July heat,On the library lawn,As I work at nonchalant witAnd effortless conversation,You pull out your cell phone and credit cardHit a preprogrammed numberTurn to me and say:Iʼm ordering hookers and pizza, want something?

My comeback: What kind of pizza?Elicits a condescending smileBut in fact you are calling the shuttle serviceThat this evening will carry you to the airportAnd the East CoastLeaving me sitting aloneOn the library lawnStill running comebacks through my head.

Neil McKay

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Walls

You build walls badlytoo short, pockedwith footholds, easily scaledAre you even trying?

I could give you lessonsin smoothing the morter,widening the base so the wall

can rise to insurmountable height.

Neil McKay

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That Night in the Apartment House

That night you came downstairs,You were cold. I had just taken my laundry, still hot,From the dryer and I wrappedOne bath towel over your breastsAnd shoulders and I coveredYour head with another,So that you looked likeA homemade Madonna.Then we slept in my bed,My chest against your back,My face buried in your hair all night,Until the cat woke us with cries and kisses.I showered while you stretched outYou watched me shave, let me kiss you,I made tea then you wentUpstairs to your apartment.

Neil McKay

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Who and Why Are We

We are endlessly perplexed by the nature of our presence in the world and the nature of the world itself. Science can often tell us what, but it cannot tell us why. We want to know the what and understand the why. In other words, why are we and everything else here at all? Such metaphysical questions are without definitive answers. Yet the dialogue about possible responses to such questions enlivens and enlightens us with possibility. All answers require a leap of faith, a yes to the human condition just as it is. Religious answers usually assume God or a universal ground of being. Both are ultimately beyond human understanding. Faith is required. Secular answers usually assume that God does not act in history and there is no spiritual foundation to the universe. Since we cannot know whether or not there is a God, faith is required in the secular world as well.

A middle ground is necessary if we are to have amicable relationships as individuals and communities. Extremism in any realm, religious, secular or political, leads to discord and easily escalates to violence between people and between communities. Aristotleʼs moderation in all things still has merit. The limits of reason do not necessarily leave us with arbitrary conclusions. Our common humanity provides opportunities for dialogue where a consensus is possible about acceptable civil behavior and justice.

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Rationalityʼs limitations create the need and the opportunity for community. We reason together to establish a sense of place and purpose, a viable society. Agreement reached by discussion and compromise will not be the only reasonable conclusion, other conclusions are almost always possible. The agreement is the “best” we can do together at this time with the information we have. Reason cannot tell us the only logical answer. It can assist in coming to a common conclusion about what makes sense.

Common sense is not a bad measure. It tends to be at the center of laws and beliefs that are shared among the major faiths and most societies. Such rules and understandings have deep roots in human history. The Ten Commandments include five statements that do not mention God: you shall not murder, commit adultery, steal, lie or covet what your neighbor has. The limits of rational discourse are not an argument for faith. Faith is one possible response to the human condition. Some existentialists posit an absurd universe that is indifferent to us and leads us to make our own way in a community with our fellow human beings. For them, there is no external source of meaning.

The same issues are true in aesthetics, ethics, and other human endeavors. There is not a single answer to what is beautiful or right. But there can be a consensus, a range of agreement that allows for common ground and variation without enmity.

Clayton Medeiros

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TO THE HOMEBOYS WHO RIDE BIKES PAST THE

DOPE HOUSES ON STATE STREET

although the block is hot, there is no lightyoung ones make moves, but seldom in the sunno birds, but birdmen stalking all in sightno needles, but to all, the damage done

the young ones move among this trap bazaaramong a maddening crowd of chemical meansamong rich and poor, the hopeless, the bizarreleeches yearning to trip the dark obscene

they move among these dens of toxic sprawlcommerce markets of pieces, weight, and heftand those who give to no one, yet take alltill thereʼs absolutely nothing to take left

speak of this block? You may, but speak it clearspeak not of youth, there are no children here

Robert Lashley

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HOMEBOY WATCHES DOPE FIENDS GO BY.

be smart, among the crystal corpse arrivalbe tough among the fire and fires pastexpect no peace or mercy, just survival

keep swiveled head when all heads blow up vialknow, among the ruins, you come lastbe smart, among the crystal corpse arrival

give them nothing that you consider vitalgive them nothing for another blastexpect no peace or mercy, just survival

Ignore their demented whines of petty trialsteer clear the runs of terror that they castbe smart, among the crystal corpse arrival

Ignore the coke runs down the concrete aisleIf you cannot, then fate comes swift and fastexpect no peace or mercy, just survival

Ignore the lasting horror of dope boy isleleave itʼs beach of sorrow, madness vastbe smart among the crystal corpse arrivalexpect no peace or mercy, just survival

Robert Lashley

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Loneliness Words

Loneliness once spokenPerhaps not as deepBut what remains unsaidSticks to heart and boneRelentless thirst unquenchedSearches answers in otherʼs eyesAs if nothingʼs known aloneEven rosy sunsets viewedStrangers if none otherShare words gorgeous lovelyIndifferent smilesPoetry speaksDark lady sonnetsAbandoned loversDiscuss among themAlways gray skiesYet love comes Across the roomDown the walkEyes catch the heartEver hopeful redress Somewhere a soul mateSquares lifeʼs circleRecompense for dark timesLike tomorrowʼs sunriseComes after midnight dreamsCurve through the darkDisappear among open eyes

Clayton Medeiros

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Cars Hissing

The wheeling hiss of carʼs tiresHeading up the hill beyond my yardLike a whisper that disappearsWith the distance of the crestThe car no longer seenExcept at night going up.Bare tree limbs are lit,Headlights swoop downThe slope by my place.On their way to stores,A friendʼs house for coffee,News of the day.Helenʼs nephew Harry,Who went to California,Left behind New England hills, Enclosed stone walls,For mesas and mountains.Helen was all he had,She worried, wrote seasonsSo he knew about March crocuses,Rhododendrons, primroses,Hardy mums just before winter.He called leaving zip code trails.

Clayton Medeiros

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Ruth Stone

She feels himIn bedOpen fieldSummer timeAnytime

She loves him In wordsPoetry lineEndless proseAlways

Clayton Medeiros

Gestures

It was the gesture not the wordsLove was in the wordsThe eyes were closedThere was no light thereNo open hands or armsThe arched neckA foot askewLove was in the words

Clayton Medeiros

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Armed and Ready

I am armed with memoriesYou cannot come in todayFor me there will be no tomorrowToday is yesterday seenThrough the eyes of long ago

No glasses bring further clarityTo things I knowYou will never understandNo stories do justiceNo ears hear my truthLyrics and decibels asideI am like a pond Struck by a stone With ripples everywhere Memories held steadyOne after the other Only my ears and eyes Words of what was

I am armed with memories And must be alone today Hone the darks and lightsCut through the mysteryOf past things now Bundle them up in time

Clayton Medeiros

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Sadness

There is a sadnessIt has no nameBut comes whenAll there is to loveIs understanding

Clayton Medeiros

The Disappeared

Stars in cold winter skiesSteel gray and whiteDisappear earlyDawn pink and blueEach night They returnBut you never willI wanted so toHear you once again

Clayton Medeiros

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Lost Love Blues

The beat pushesAcross twelve barsOn and on it goesCalls you to itPainful refrainsMelody to musicTwists the soulOne feels hurtIn unheard words

Love in the bluesUnrequitedPainful UnfaithfulGuitarʼs acheIn tearful chords Abandoned heartsWander night time streets

I give you fair warning Never take a new loverTo hear the bluesHearts seize upAll that hurtful harmEvery manʼs mistakesRise in them

Anger dark eyesEach riff

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Stabs the spiritAnguished voices wailA high held tremoloBrings sudden tears

Final notes fadeAcross the roomLights dimEveryone to their Own sad song

Clayton Medeiros

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