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In Praise of James Kavanaugh
This paper ...
My teeth.
It softens experiences
For contemplation by my ever-searching soul.
My words ...
An oft’ painful scrimshaw of my life.
They serve together in silence ...
Hopefully to be discovered ...
Or remembered ...
Coddled by someone ...
Anyone ...
Who might perceive them as a sometimes-ironic form of art
...
Or reflect upon them as an expose’ of healing insight.
A miniscule marker ... In an infinite realm,
Filled with wolves.
Motionless ...
With meaning only to me ...
To my ever-searching soul ...
Their one hope of life beyond my own journey ...
Achieving fruition only in the instance of experience by
some other searcher.
Insecurity would make my stubborn ego etch these revealing
passages in stone ...
A desperate attempt at immortality.
But I am a realist ...
Therefore I realize,
That most are far too busy ...
Searching ...
For a way to shout out to the universe ...
Lest they be forgotten.
Too busy seeking in angst–filled desperation ...
To know why they are here and who they are.
Too busy hoping that it might bring to them some elusive,
peaceful release ...
An epiphany to the one thing that consistently arrives here
with each of us at birth ...
Something that could reveal the cartography of our
mysterious, existential unknown.
Far and away too busy ...
To hold up a possibly meaningless piece of paper ...
Let alone a cumbersome stone.
A toast to you sir ...
I am indeed diligent to avoid the wolves ...
Though I’m still prone to miss the ones disguised as sheep.
Enlightened by my experience of your scrimshaw ...
Encouraged by the comfort of knowing that someone else
understands.
Your perception ...
A light in the deep, dark woods.
Your wisdom ...
Like a campfire ...
Warming my wandering bones.
Ashamedly, I’d not experienced your heartfelt insight
Or even heard your name ...
Until a friend compared my words to yours.
She gave me one of your books ...
I couldn’t sleep a wink that night.
I looked for your footprints in the path ahead of me ...
My eyes squinting with hope.
It was a welcome effect ... a strange and unexpected reward
indeed.
The theory of parallel lives.
The proposal of kindred spirits.
Oh, that I might be blessed with the ability to console
another searcher ...
To help aim them towards a light ...
Or show them that the path they are on actually leads to
one.
The elusive Holy Grail of lifetime achievement.
And oh!
To have been compared to you!
-Jeff Gaines
March 2nd & 3rd, 2003
(James Kavanaugh was a Catholic
Priest who left the Church after deciding that he didn't
agree with some things he'd seen and learned within the
church ... not to mention the fact that he wanted to get
married! He instead became a poet and philosopher. I
ashamedly admit that I had never heard of him or read any of
his work until a friend of mine had brought this girl by my
house. She read one of my pieces that was in a frame on the
shelf and asked about my writing. I gave her a disk of my
stuff and when she returned some weeks later, she gave me a
copy of "There are Men Too Gentle To Live among Wolves" by
Mr. Kavanaugh. She said that he was one of her favorites and
that she really loved my writing because it reminded her of
his. I read this book and then went out and found "Laughing
Down Lonely Canyons" and anything else I could find written
by or about him. I was flabbergasted! In a strange way, I
saw what she saw ... that he and I were both "searchers" as
he called it. I was both dumbfounded AND flattered. While I
doubt I will ever achieve his level of enlightenment (or
talent) ... It made
me feel that what I was doing with my writing was right on
target and gave me the oomph to keep doing it to this
day. It also inspired me to write this piece dedicated to
him. I hope & dream, someday, to meet him.)
GO here to read a short bio about
James Kavanaugh and then try and comprehend someone
comparing you to him:
http://www.biotecfoods.com/jk/bio.htm
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