Evelyn Klebert

I prepare for attack,
arm myself for my nemesis,
readied for a long prepared-for battle,
guarded to the hilt
to extremes.
Readied for the person who bears the brunt of my grievances,
who carries the burden, the responsibility for my ills.
Readied for attack,
But then
you’re here,
not as I’ve imagined,
not as I’ve armed against,
but beaten down and humbled by life,
eyes tired,
lined face,
sad from the heaviness of all the burdens
yours and mine.
But where did my nemesis go?
The one I have prepared for,
and armed against?
For my creation has dissipated as quickly,
as a reflection in shallow water,
rippling apart with a gentle breeze.

I wrestled with the past today,
like an old coat that didn’t fit.
It scratched and rubbed my skin raw,
with tearing and untidy threads.
The garment had all but lost its shape,
simply an irritating echo of what once was.
The tangled threads no longer making sense,
only still around to remind me of old pain.
I wrestled with my past today,
then in a moment
I tossed it all away.

Surprises and unexpected moments,
when you are sure all is predictable.
When the hours ahead and days stretch forward with no anticipation,
a sudden unforeseen meeting.
An uncharted bend in the road
that gives just everything a new complexion.
A seed sown where ground was believed to be infertile and barren.
Truly the mystery of life,
that place where hope springs up
exactly where it was thought to be impossible.

Hello out there! I just wanted to announce that I’ve been updating my Always Halloween Page. In addition to a lengthy rather creepy story called The Soul Shredder I’ve added a new slide show of pictures I took at some famous New Orleans Cemeteries. So if anyone is need of a little Halloween in May, please stop by.

He is dressed in his finery,
a welcome consort.
One who will spin you adroitly
in twists and unexpected turns on the dance floor.
He will listen to your grievances,
be a constant companion if you so desire.
Fanning the flames of resentment, anger,
even blind and insane hatred if you wish to travel so far.
But if in a moment one can obtain distance,
and notice that the path traveled
with this stalwart companion makes no progress,
but wraps itself round in a deceptive circle.
Old ground disguised as new, is retread,
old grievances unhealed, and inflamed to infection.
He is a grand one, a compelling companion,
dressed in his finery disguised to please,
who keeps you a well fed prisoner,
well fed with poisons that will only fester.
Poisons and wasted energy that would be
better spent in traveling with purpose,
with progress,
beyond this particular horizon.

It’s really hard to see,
through an infant’s eyes,
the world around seems so confined.
But there are hands there to keep you safe,
a voice and arms
that teach this new world is truly filled
with kindness and love.
It’s really hard to remember,
as the rush of living wants to sweep you along,
remember that somewhere there is an anchor,
a soul who continually gives more than it ever asks,
who takes joy and pride
in every step forward,
and comforts
through every fall.
It’s easy to forget,
when your own life’s dramas take center stage,
that there is always someone there,
watching, praying, hoping,
in your corner always.
Someone who doesn’t seek anything,
but always celebrates your triumphs,
someone who always sees you as a blessing,
someone who truly is your blessing.

One of those days
when thinking becomes wrapped around a pole.
Crazy thoughts become sane in the filtered light,
and wild emotions look justified in the setting sun.
For that crazy moment,
the world tilts,
and danger lurks so close,
beckoning a rash, faltering, flawed decision.
One breath, one minute, one hour holding back
makes all the difference.
In one night’s sleep calmness creeps in again,
sanity begins to balance perspective,
and thinking straightens out.
What a blessing,
just to wait,
wait to act,
before you send forward something
that can’t be taken back.

In passing I see you,
a stranger, a person entirely separate from my life.
I can wonder about your life.
I can look at you with a skewed idea of what I think you are,
of how your life proceeds.
I can look at your clothes,
observe your appearance,
and quite quickly concoct a fantasy of who you might be.
I can place you in a niche, a little cubby hole where my judgements reside.
I can even disregard you once I have so adroitly labeled you.
But as I spend my mental energy doing so,
the truth floats by me quietly, softly, unobserved.
I miss what my perceptions can not catch.
I miss you entirely and instead attach a fabrication to your face.
For my arrogance assumes what is impossible for any human to see,
what is truly in another’s heart,
in another’s existence, another’s experience.
And the truth softly passes me by unobserved.

So here’s what’s new:

Being released this fall, my second full-length novel An Uneasy Traveler as well as a reprinting of a collection of short stories entitled Breaking Through the Pale which was published nearly a decade ago. I’ve taken some time to refurbish the original stories a bit and have included a new rather lengthy addition called “Isolation.”