If I could

If Grandfather Reese was still alive, I'd tell him about James, and I'd ask him to help me help him. Grandfather was always throwing money at people for education, he felt it was the best investment of his money. And James really ought to be at Tulane... Only he has a wife and children now. He's in a job that pays well enough but is destroying his soul, his poet's soul. I try not to ask too often if he's written anything, but I asked again today. He's been blocked for months now. When we talk, I try to stimulate his creative side, but he's tired and uninspired and I am starting to mourn him now, like I mourned Grandfather as I watched his slow, agonizing decline. James cannot live without his poetry, but his life is devoid of it. If I could, I'd pay his tuition, give him a stipend toward living expenses, but my resources won't stretch that far, and he'd never accept my help. But Grandfather... he would have rigged something with Tulane just like he rigged something with Smith for me when I was too proud to take his money. I had a hard enough time taking help from family--accepting help from my boyfriend's grandfather was something I just wouldn't do. But he brought me around. Yes, he did. December 1993. Wow. Its been 12 years since he died, and he took care of me even in death, earmarking money for me for school. I still miss him. And especially now, I miss him, when I know of someone he would have helped, and he's not here. Ah well, I can't save everyone. I can't save anyone. Hell, I can hardly save myself. I'm posting the poem James wrote for me, because he wrote it for me. Its not his best poem, but it is very evocative. It always gets me in the 'mood'.


Possession
In her place
a thousand candles burning
Salty sweat
drips from her breasts
Her hips move
and I can feel what
they're saying
Swaying
They say the beast inside
of me will possess you.

Dark hair hides
Lips of red wine
I am thy servant
May I bathe
and give you rest?
Those lips move
And I can hear
What you're saying
Praying
They say the beast inside
of me is going to possess you.

I plead to serve
Your wish is my love
Now close your eyes
And let me bring you
to your little death
Shall I offer proof
That I mean what I am saying?
Begging
I say the beast inside
of me possesses you.
-J.R.