My Little Robot (and other poems)

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I Have a Little Robot

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I have a little robot

made 'specially for me

it follows me around the house

and keeps observing me

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it watches all my actions

and everything I do

but instead of copy-catting

the reverse is always true

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the things i try to put away

the robot takes them out

the toys I take within the hosue

the robot takes without

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I put things in their rightful place

and then without a doubt

the robot turns the drawers on end

turns cupboards inside out

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the food I place within the dish

is dropped upon the floor

the socks I slide upon the feet

end up beside the door

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the water I put in the bath

goes seldom down the drain

the laundry that I neatly stack

is taken out and stained

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I've thought to take my model back

for something less deficient

a robot that could actually help

my time be more efficient

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but then she smiles up at me

her hair all curled and bright

and waddles round the house to some

unbearable delight

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I guess I'll keep her on a while

and see how things will go

she's only one year old and so

there's probably room to grow

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The Well-Wisher Dragons in Flagons

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dragons in flagons

and whispery beasts

all shut in their shells for the night

-there is peace

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but wait, oh just wait

with a crack and a groan

out from their hiding

they rustle and moan

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they're moving and slinking

and shifting about

they're yawning and stretching

they're all getting out

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but I'm done for the day

i don't want them here

I don't want them ever

but now they are near

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I'll wrestle and scream

I'll figure them out!

I'll lay every which way

and flopping about-

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I'll kick them aside

and batten them down

I'll empty the trash can

on top of their town!

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until I am done

my muscle all spent

my brain all in tatters

and torn like a tent

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about to collapse

exhausted and lame

but still they all whistle

and chant out my name

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I listen, cu-ckooing

and bickering go

back to my sleep

for I know that they know

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they have me, have won

have snickled my gizzard

they've walloped me sore

and snookered my wizard

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so back to their flagons

and back to their shells

these dragons and snivels

and well-wisher-wells

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bid me goodnight

with a flick of their tails

but its morning and daybreak

it just never fails

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To Those Who Mourn

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I would not that

ye slip into the grave

the watery rain-slipped

sorrow - muddy

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think not forever

about tomorrow

nor yesterday

be transfixed upon

this day

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climb up, climb out

climb as you might

take in this wretched

mournful ball

of earth and stone

and its airy

drapes, moist cloaks

and wraps

its grisly hair and

its knotted brow

feel heavy upon it

walk upon feet

which you possess

claim it as

your own and

forget not

the heights

and depths you

have known

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sorrow yet another day

and yet one more

but forget not

your footfalls

your breath

your gentle,

empty rest

Try This at Home

It was the day I ran the farthest ever in my life. In order not to rush to an early death, I started out my first marathon " conservatively" with the 3:30 pacer who was supposed to be running 8 minute miles. When he ran the second mile in 8:20, I started to lose confidence in the man. Besides, this felt like jogging to me. At mile 3 I bid the 3:30 pack adieu, tucked in my tail and began to tempt fate with 7:30 and even 7:00 minute miles. I met my family at mile 10, which ended up being the 2nd best feel good part of the race. Last year in the half marathon, I had such a hard time finding my family and just ended up catching a glimpse of Dawn, so this year I was bound and determined to search them out. Lyric was on the top of the list because she periodically likes to ask me why I didn't see them or hear them or see the sign that they made. I was going to stop and sort through the crowd by hand if need be in order to make sure I found Lyric. Well - there they were so I waved and gave Lyric a hug before tearing off and then suddenly remembering I wasn't half done yet. It was metaphorically uphill from there. Miles 13 through 17 were pretty mundane and mental energy began to lag. For a few miles I even lapsed back to the horrifying 8 minute pace! After 20 miles I could begin to envision actually finishing this thing. There were runners who had stopped to walk at this point and I don't remember if that was discouraging or encouraging at the time. But -

Glory! Glory! There it is! I'm downtown and the ramp into the stadium! There's a guy running just in front of me as I turn into the stadium - I blow by him and I can see the finish! Some primal beast tries to leap out of my skin and I clutch at his hair just in order to hang on. I hear my family yelling and I'm sprinting like a maniac, trying to stay abreast of the hairy beast. What exultation is birthed here? I must have ran right by the guy who was supposed to shake my hand after the finish because no one shook my hand. I got my medal and a water bottle then walked over to lean on the fence. I cried for five minutes, laying Shannon to rest and exulting in the freedom I found in running. I walked off the field, threw up my water and was met with congratulations from my family.

When can I do this again?

Official Results: time 3:20:27

split average 7:39
place in age group 16/151

place in overall men 75/976

my thumbs up at mile 0.

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giving Lyric a hug at mile 10

Dawn holds the blue "flag of Buryatia", a piece of

cloth from Russia given as a gift by Shannon

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.just after seeing my family at mile 10

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. Lyric listens to the anthem right before her fun run

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Lyric (and Mommy) run!

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It's over!

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Photos courtesy of Darren Byler. For more photos of a maniac finishing a marathon, visit http://www.runphotos.com/

select Akron Marathon and enter my lucky bib number 777

I Must be Running a Marathon

I must be running a marathon soon. I'm working on my second pair of running shoes for the year and I've been wearing a "hydration belt" along on my runs that can carry 40 oz of fluid. There are sweat-soaked pieces of clothing constantly drying in the laundry room and my wife has had it up to here with descriptions of running aches and pains, misgivings about how well training is going, etc. My 6 year-old daughter asks questions like, "is today a running day, Daddy?" and there are phrases on my workout calendar like "2 mile warmup" and "easy 8 miles". There are also more obvious phrases like "22 miles LSD" (long slow distance). (does the 22 miles really need this clarification? it's not like I'm going to run 22 miles at a 10k pace or something) Fortunately there was only one of those phrases on the calendar.

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So it must be true. I'm hoping to still run my first marathon (26.2 miles for the uninitiated) in 7 days on September 26. I made this decision back on June 7th, nigh 15 weeks ago. My health has been stellar, my usual shin pain has even been kept under the radar - no complaints for me. That is, until yesterday when a frustrating 6 mile run revealed its true cause later in the evening with a sore throat and possibly (hopefully) a case of strep throat. How can I have trained all these weeks and 484 miles just to be taken down in the final stretch by a measly infection? I was miffed and went to bed without washing the dishes, just to show this infection a thing or two.

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But if I remember why I'm running, maybe how I run won't matter as much - maybe. When I decided to run this marathon, I wanted to run it in honor of Shannon's battle with cancer - and I'm still running it for her, but now it will also be in her memory. Dawn tells me that even if I only run part of it, or have to run it slow, running it will still be great. She's right, but I want to run it fast. I was first inspired to run in middle school when Shannon started running to the end of the road and back. I started to run with her and decided that running track would be cool. When I was too depressed in high school to run track anymore, she encouraged me just to run for God. One track season we made a healthy eating vow for 3 months of no sugar or sweets that we kept together. (man that was tough) When I started running half marathons a couple years ago, she was thrilled. When she started being treated for cancer and got weaker and weaker, she gradually stopped being able to run, and then even to walk. After her treatments she was back out on the road, building up her strength with short walks. I wanted to run this marathon for her - for the times when she couldn't run. I wanted her to experience through me the joy of running, hard and fast. And I still will - there will just me more tears on the road.

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Things I've learned while training for a marathon:

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1. running 22 miles in a row feels just as bad as it sounds
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2. running more than 15 miles without bringing along something to drink is really dumb (in medical circles they refer to this as dehydration)

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3. long distance running is really just a way to make insanity look organized

(but it works)

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4. the first two hours out on the road are relatively easy, then it comes down to guts and passion

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5. long hair doesn't have to be a problem, with enough sweat the hair will sweep back over your head nicely and pretty much stay there

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6. if you're going to run 500 miles in a summer, don't be surprised by a steady stream of sore, tired, aching bones and muscles throughout your body

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7. the most meaningful things in life don't cost money but aren't completely free, they take discipline, sacrifice and dedication

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8. running a marathon is a family sport - they all have to make a sacrifice to give you so much time to yourself

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p.s. wondering about the picture? it's my "sweet" coat that I found at the salvation army. after buying this coat for 7 dollars and a pair of nice corduroys for 3 - I announced proudly to my wife on the way home that I have decided to only buy used clothing from now on - the prices are wonderful and the clothing has so much more character. then I did some reflecting and realized that I've already been doing that for the last 8 years. so it wasn't that great of an idea after all, although I'm even more enthused about buying and wearing really unique clothing. yes! Matthew's true character returns!

p.p.s. if you want to join my family in watching a fun marathon event and remembering Shannon (and watching me do organized insanity), then join us on Saturday the 26th at Akron

Our Time in Its Beautiful Way

when my fingers trace the shape of you

along your face

with its softened skin

I sense you far beneath

down, down below the surface

deeper and deeper

beyond my knowing

beyond my sleepless stare

my eyes watery and washed

drowning in great salt waves

heaved from their burning ocean of tumult

thundering and dissolving my world
our world together

until I am undone

unmasked and mistook

aimless in my convictions
harrowed in my night

harrowed in my night

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our time in its beautiful way

like ice crystals completely shattered

sprinkled in a graceful arc

across mountains and deserts

and all the empty air

all the empty air

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a great loss is thrust upon me

piercing my chest to bursting flesh

its cavity scraped, scoured and blood-let

excised of its beatings

its hormonal angst

its pure love

its devotion

its haste

my splintered ribs clutch

at their barren vacancy

for entrails discarded

scattered into four winds

and many secret places

many secret places
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walking the night along its ruddy breezes

its tempest breathing in and out

scalding me with ambivalence

pressing into my face the unimaginable

the unquenched path

and its unforeseen end

undeniable

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your footfalls in the darkness

I walk towards you

and away again

towards you

and away again

a circling search

of a place I can know again

of a time I can remember

how to be

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I watch for your shadow

undulating among the trees

among the slanted slopes

I touch your hair

and remember you

where you had once been

once ruminated and embraced

and died openly

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empty, I float away

above the earth and this time

above my mumblings

my disdain, my reproach

secretive and bubbling sweet

a silky dream

tucked in a crevice

like a coiled web
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I await your returning

and vow to wait

to sink back with the rain

into the low-lying puddles

and muddy spots

collected

trickled down and distilled

remade and undone
remade again

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memories in gentle roundabout currents

swirl me along the dotted earth

replace my disgrace
rearrange my disguise

upend my brimming heart

convolute my silence

and my hope

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I've been bitten

down deep

where I cannot go

where I cannot go

to stop the bleeding

flowers I picked for Shannon with her scarf

More Insight

We as a family agreed to an autopsy to investigate the cause of Shanon's death. No cancer was found in the body. However, a "pinhole" was discovered between the adjacent walls of her heart and stomach. This pinhole allowed air to leak from the stomach into the heart. These bubbles traveled to the bloodstream, lodging into the blood vessels of her brain, thus causing the stroke-like death of the brain.

The doctors at Cleveland Clinic have never seen this kind of pinhole develop in a person like Shannon, who had completed her cancer treatments several months before her death. When this type of pinhole develops, it is fatal within days. We as a family recognize and accept that the ways of God are mysterious. We believe that the doctors acted as wisely and prudently as was in their means and that this was simply Shannon's time to go. As usual, she surprised us all.