Tag Archives: Memory

This Climb Does Not End

Posted on March 31, 2013 by stephenarcher

If I had a Sun­day morn­ing off while I was a surgery res­i­dent, it felt like Christ­mas and my birth­day every time. They did not come often. I worked over 100 hours/week and was on call either every third or every … Con­tinue read­ing →

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24 Minutes Plus Six For Commercials

Posted on March 27, 2013 by stephenarcher

I don’t won­der so much now how I grew up think­ing that life was going to be for me as it was for Steve McGar­ret (played by Jack Lord, actu­ally born John Joseph Patrick Ryan – that’s three cool names) on Hawaii … Con­tinue read­ing →

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Goes Away

Posted on July 1, 2012 by stephenarcher

It’s mov­ing away. I t i s . The time I thought I had, I had that time, but I don’t think of it that way when I want more… time, I mean. The time I have “used” is not a part … Con­tinue read­ing →

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I Saw This (for Phil)

Posted on May 1, 2012 by stephenarcher

He’s 5, Chuck Taylor’s on his feet, before they were hip, when they were still just white shoes on a white boy, walk­ing through the hood. He is kick­ing the can when that was still the name for ‘tag’. He … Con­tinue read­ing →

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Jeep

Posted on December 3, 2011 by stephenarcher

Hand over hand straight to left A thou­sand hands, wheel too hot to touch, an noon, on Wake or Saipan. A thou­sand might be mil­lions, The miles from home or to the next shore; or lost friends or ene­mies. Com­fort … Con­tinue read­ing →

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See Through You

Posted on November 26, 2011 by stephenarcher

Sun­day morn­ing is the right time for North Beach across the bridge from Cor­pus Christi. Sun­day morn­ing brings the truth to a place full of Sat­ur­day night fan­tas­ti­cal absur­di­ties fueled and cre­ated and sus­tained, des­per­ately, by what­ever the drug of … Con­tinue read­ing →

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Cow

Posted on August 13, 2011 by stephenarcher

My fam­ily is spread to the four cor­ners of the coun­try. 4 kids, four cor­ners. One in Ore­gon, one in NYC, one in Cleve­land, one in South Texas, in a prison. We learned from our par­ents, who fled Ire­land for … Con­tinue read­ing →

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Summertime

Posted on July 17, 2011 by stephenarcher

I would sit some­where, quiet, always alone and think to myself: This sec­ond. I am never going to for­get, this sec­ond. I would try to put that moment onto some promi­nent, mural in my mem­ory so I could remem­ber it … Con­tinue read­ing →

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4th

Posted on July 4, 2011 by stephenarcher

Sum­mers are get­ting poignant. When I was younger the summer’s were relent­lessly, joy­ously mov­ing in one direc­tion, like a river. They unfolded new and with­out a past. Now I still float along in my sum­mer, but I am see­ing them through the … Con­tinue read­ing →

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Jellyfish Four Ways

Posted on June 26, 2011 by stephenarcher

Your hair fell like Grace Kelly’s, a per­fect swish off the shoul­der, in my mind. In the ocean the jel­ly­fish swayed sexy-like. At the same time I knew I saw beauty in a way that fed me and I felt guilty … Con­tinue read­ing →

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