Posts published in July 2006

as much as i try to,
i fail to leave you;
hope the world
would just let us be–
let us be comfortable,
without all the wounds
left healing, while we
focus on other things–
things we never say we need,
but always fall back on
when there’s nothing else to do.

i tried erasing you
from my memory;
so fragile the thought
of giving in and letting go,
but i never found the strength;
i always failed when i never tried hard enough.

there’s a light i look to
when the clouds are clearly grey and nothing can reach us from above;
there’s a lightness of the air i never
look toward, but always find when there’s time enough
to stand and wait for
the thoughts of pressure to fall away, sideways,
letting the skin open and air the aggression of this body
now calm, for the world doesn’t need another madman;
just another romantic, graced by all of the life left to be.

i sit and walk by
all that we had,
i look to repeat them,
but know there’s better to be done;
yet, i follow
all their courses,
break my head on the sounds, not said,
but wished away too often to
stay, except when you come back
and tell me everything i never needed to hear.
i felt you from afar and knew this would be all i’d be able to say to you,
even though so much more need be said without words, alone.
i, fragile, feel you breaking me,
and you, light, lift me higher;
and i know love when you whirl ’round my impure skin.

take a look at the worlds from far, looking
back on you,
though you know not from where, but know they are,
somehow,
loving you without a need of being brought back for more;
and we don’t know why.

i’ve sat more than any man should want to, but there’s a dimension to the sitting that adds a sense of calm, of unknown-until-you-know elapsings of time. i enjoy philosophy, the addition and realignment of thoughts and the dissection of what is held to be infallible. What a clam, life. To see the shell as being all there is, without the want of crushing it open or awaiting its opening, that is what I fear. That, and love. Both are such strange attractions as to be completely opposite, while wholly the same; they are the perusal of intricacies and delicacies from which all understandings are easily seen or reached to. I saw a man, riding his bike, down the middle of a car-lined street, in a neighborhood just off campus, where the houses rarely top one story, and her trees rarely stand above the halfway point of a pine. He smiled, greeted, and gave a thumb to me, upward. I understood, as he had allowed me the ability to, and I thanked him with a likened smile and a greeting’s back. Love and life are the same in that regard. When living, you love; when loving, you live. I never saw myself in the mirror much, but when I do now, I smile, as, a stranger’s smile has been given to me, and mine to them. Pass it on.

Of all I’ve written, this is the most present and pressing, still.

Perhaps, though known
through only the most
educated of guesses, an
instance much close to
one at hand lies within
the thousands, years,
previously held in sway
for climate’s progression
from solidity, ice,
toward tropics, ‘canoes;
the always-there, yet
covered world we know
exists now, but know,
in some fashion, existed
prior to our arrival/
spark of move toward
current– yet, to say
such things came easily
is to put aside difficulties
stretching the spread of
continents, of lands, unseen,
yet traversed, conquered,
given an image, human
in nature– the deepest
core from which a
‘ruption of emotion comes
for mother, land, father,
thought, and all which may
come from search, despite
the calamity– such
calm from search, from
purpose, not found, or
given to– such
calm from knowing
all as is is as only is
and not as could,
perhaps may,
be soon or later, still.

All beings seek for happiness; so let your compassion extend itself to all.
~ Mahavamsa

Pasted from http://muttscomics.com/index.asp

I will never be famous. And that freedom affords me much.

Nothing such as death brings about a universal sense of urgency in thought and diligence, save birth.

And now, to seem as though all is but autonomous,
A shaking shook to be left shaking still, with no means
But empathy, but sympathy for self and no other, though
Other exists and holds a high head in need of resting,
But no hands or shoulders reach/slide to be there;
And all is magnetic, pulled to be away from they you know
Would rather be attached, though so forced you are to leave
Despite your wonderings of contrary beliefs held in hopes of more.

For days of weeks, we sought to be as speakers,
Though our words, most yours, are now unheard
And all is owed to mem’ry, an accidental cause.
A laugh, a question known but answered not,
For who needs such trivial’ities if words be second;
First our legislature’d hearts, signed to service,
Though so knotted in the legalities of parchments,
As to not be held in hearing, but ‘stead in subtleties,
A way of coward, I, who knew not your desires;
Desires but by an unfilling, flinched in hesitance,
Though they, through knowledge, now, be, too, mine.
And, through them, these, you will most see who this,
Yours, is, reluctantly, in speech, alone, as now is known.

such
vertical seas,
wave trees,
oceans of
light behind,
to bend toward
deepest seam.