“There Were Daisies,” a collaborative story by Joni Caggiano and Mike Utley, published at Hotel by Masticadores

Photo © Joni Caggiano

Greetings, folks. Just a note to let you know “There Were Daisies,” a new story collaboration with my friend and poet extraordinaire Joni Caggiano, is available at Hotel by Masticadores. A big tip o’ the cap goes to Joni for sharing this adventure with me and providing her uniquely lyrical and profound writing. You can find more of Joni’s poetry, prose and photography on her blog Rum and Robots. Also, many thanks to editor Michelle Navajas for sharing this story with her readers. Be sure to check out Michelle’s new book Afternoons That Tasted Like Love in Manilla.

An excerpt from “There Were Daisies”:

The sickly pond, lifeless, the hue of bad dreams and uneasy regrets, fumed quietly, forever giving up its pallid ghost to the aloof heavens. With anguish stinging my dry eyes, I was drawn to a fleeting remembrance…

We sniff petrichor, my wife’s smile brighter than the morning sun. An early kiss of water on the green grass in fertile soil draws us toward a tender embrace. We interlace fingers and hold tight, clinging to this treasured happenstance. We hear the sigh of the oaks and see a white quilt of dandelions and daisies dotting our clear pond. Fish jump as frogs meander along the edge. Bass notes from bullfrogs cling to our ears as my wife begins to pirouette barefoot, and I am without words, enamored and in love with her grace.

Ghosts, my mind whispered, this is a world of ghosts, ephemeral, intangible memories that linger in shadows and call in soundless cries to no one. Where once was life, now there is only the torpid peal of silent bells amid an eternal night…

You can read the rest of our story here:

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“Still I Toil On”

“Still I Toil On”
(c) 2024 by Michael L. Utley

my old hoe is dull
and the weeds
resist its blade
still I toil on
iron sharpens iron
rust begets rust
the crucible of life
makes or breaks
which shall I choose
do I even have a choice

my garden’s neglect
pains my soul
its hardened soil
thirsts for more
than rain
too many weeds
too few blooms
a loathsome facsimile
of the worst of me

these hands
cracked and dirty
beset by age
and the scars
of a futile life
once strong enough
to break the earth
shatter stone
yet tender still
to caress the lotus
dry the tears
of my beloved
these calloused hands
empty now
save for the
piercing splinters
and burning blisters
of stillborn harvests
and sundered dreams

once, long ago
across the stream
my young man’s eyes
beheld the youthful willow
nubile and lithesome
her slender feet
glissading upon
the cool water
sinuous fronds
breeze-blown
her sultry-shy gaze
beckoning me
offering respite
from noonday sun
and I watched from afar
as egret and kitsune
nestled in her shadows
and I yearned for her
but my garden
needed tilling
my hoe dull even then
my back bent
from years of struggle
my heart distracted
by worries of harvests
yet to be
and in my hesitation
she turned away
and all was lost

cicadas drone
in the bamboo grove
their maddening chorus
a condemnation
their brief lives
leave little time
for memories
but plenty
for judgment
their desiccated husks
reminding me
of life’s brevity
all I’ve lost
all I needlessly
carry with me

it has been too long
since the rains fell
too long since the wind
cooled my brow
too long since
my soul slept
too long have I
gripped this
infernal device
my entire existence
rooted in this
garden of regrets
I have become
the very weed
I wish to slay

still I toil on
for there is naught left
but to toil
until my blade breaks
or the harvester’s scythe
takes me away

“My Jade Remembrance” (reprise)

(originally posted 10/5/2021)

“My Jade Remembrance”
(c) 2019 by Michael L. Utley

I used to know you
9,000 tears ago
A tear for every mile
That kept me from you
A tear for every moment
Not spent with you
A tear for every hope
Not shared with you
9,000 tears

A jade remembrance
For my brown-eyed love
A dusky green heart
On a silver chain
I keep in my pocket
It was for you
Everything was for you
Everything I had
Everything gone except
My jade remembrance

You were already dead
Before I ever met you
Your path etched in stone
I was just a detour
A distraction on your way
Into darkness
A temporary reprieve
An unplanned respite
For the lost girl
The girl who would learn to fly
Or die trying

And I was the lost boy
The boy who had
Never seen the sun
Until I saw you
The boy whose shattered heart
Had one last beat for you
A final crescendo for my
Brown-eyed love

I couldn’t fix you
You weren’t broken
You were destroyed
Crushed by the weight of
Damnation
Hounded by demons
Unknown to me
Yet you smiled at me
And pulled me from
My own abyss
And I loved you

My jade remembrance
Are you still there
Did you close your eyes
And take that leap of faith
Did you learn to fly
Or did you die trying
You didn’t just take your life
You took mine too

I keep your heart in my pocket
On a silver chain

“A Few Haiku (25)”

(c) 2022 by Michael L. Utley

(#145)

whispers of the dead
desiccated teasel stalks
haunt the winter field

…..

(#146)

fuyu no shika
scornful mountains echo
mournful stag’s lament

…..

(#147)

in the end
my heart gropes in darkness
on life’s lonely path

…..

(#148)

jade remembrance
the hitch in my chest
as my heart shatters

…..

(#149)

barren winter field
this heart of mine
bereft of yours

…..

(#150)

in silence in shadows
cold earth trembles beneath
blanket of regrets