Tag Archives: consciousness

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Still Trying

It was a day not so long ago,
filled with hope that all could be turned to gold,
And money wasn’t the goal,
It was all just to shine bright and bold
But dull isn’t that far off some notes

I don’t know,
I don’t know, a god dam thing,
About the colors I’ve been playing in an attempt to sing
About the chords I’m mixing in an attempt to paint
I don’t know,
I don’t know, a god dam thing
except that gelato tastes better with you than alone
(I always look forward to getting some)
And I fade to the cut-scene
where in the back she’s singing over me,
Oh my love, it’s not painful to walk
while she cringes to every step
Since my innocence flew away from me
And the goddess still comes in faith,
That after all I’ll still dance for free

Yes it was an evening painted in gemstones
under the crystal sky where an orb of light shone
and although we didn’t have much
it gave just enough to afford some special comfort
Because the real value of something is in what you see

I don’t know,
I don’t know, a god dam thing,
About the words I’ve been taking in an attempt to groove
About the steps I’m penning in an attempt to commune
I don’t know,
I don’t know, a god dam thing
Other than gelato tasting better with you than alone
(With or without you I’ll look forward to getting some)

I held the weight of water in my throat,
Put it down don’t carry this any longer – the lungs are strong

I’m not well off, but i’m moving forward and that’s better than most

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You Have To Wonder About All The Hoopla

We all just want to feel complete. We all just want to feel that in the end, we didn’t leave someone who was genuine with us high and dry; On the sand, to cook in the sun, where the waves of promise left us. We don’t want that for anyone.

Well what if this is the final resting point? Oh ask it again when your time is up. If you really want to get off here, then go ahead and do it fast! If you don’t want to keep going then don’t. The ride has places to get. I don’t need wavering convictions – I need only the man who will show up and stand through everything that tries to bury him. If this happens to be the final resting point, it will have to wait until I march my tried body back from where I’m taking it.

I’m trying not to leave much of this period. I don’t want to mar the history. I don’t want to give credence to all the dark suits. I really don’t want to ever admit my light dipped low.
I do suppose a surging light to bat back the vile could echo far out through the space of it all – Even if everything is only a flash

I promise there is something glimmering;  faint as it might be, you’ll find it.

 

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The Hottest Night The Jungle Ever Had

“What is it which makes a man and a woman know that they, of all other men and women in the world, belong to each other? Is it no more than chance and meeting? No more than being alive together in the world at the same time? Is it only a curve of the throat, a line of the chin, the way the eyes are set, a way of speaking? Or is it something deeper and stranger, something beyond meeting, something beyond chance and fortune? Are there others, in other times of the world, whom we should have loved, who would have loved us? Is there, perhaps, one soul among all others — among all who have lived, the endless generations, from world’s end to world’s end — who must love us or die? And whom we must love, in turn — whom we must seek all our lives long — headlong and homesick — until the end?
— Robert Nathan (Portrait of Jennie)

What fool will first make a proposal? Is it you? Do you have the pomp? Will you claim your gavel to be judge; or do you think such things should be left to the faculties of twelve? Too many mouths when we need all the senses. I’m talking more than bodies! The dialectic won’t be swallowed by bites. Haven’t we learned this ? Where are the other parts! We need the tetractys – The whole is greater than the sum of its bits and pieces you keep fooling with.

We were talking love though weren’t we? Oh you can talk love all you want, but it isn’t there until you act beyond the things you expect to receive. And how do you know when you will? With any certainty? I’m not sure we can ever answer that. Perhaps it comes down to forgiving all the shards in your hands because it wasn’t after all their intent to slip into your skin. They simply existed; and you merely put pressure – And where the two met, they got to know each other.

I don’t want to get clinical nor do I want to be cynical. The world is rife with beautiful things coming and going. But you’ve got to keep the basics together. You’ve got to work with a body of matter, and then pull in other bits. If you plan to go from one end to the other, you must have something to go on. But here you are! You are sure, already, about what you have to go on! That’s why you’re barely visible from the steps. You couldn’t wait to get out there. To get out there and prove whatever started this fire, exists.

 

 

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Something Explains Everything

In still and transition, this is us. You’re here and so am I. It’s rather enjoyable If I had to pitch something. But you know the questions we’ve always been asking don’t seem to find answers. And when people stop thinking their questions will be answered, they get up and go. Where to? I don’t think that matters to the message.

What kind of house do you want to live in? Do you want high ceilings? Must it be sui generis or is the roof enough? I could ask a few more questions, but is it necessary to go that far? Should I invite them over? Are you ready for the destination? She’s a microbiologist, and she tells me the macro-molecules are doing well. I don’t trust her or the science.

 

I can’t much imagine living in a house like that, because I haven’t spent much time in homes that made me feel like I should stay. This philosopher tells me my reasons are lies, but I can’t help but feel she’s got me all wrong. I know some other fancy titles, but I seem to like the dresses better

You know I’m roots; I don’t fuck with the branches and leaves; I like my hands down in the dirt.

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Perhaps There Is Flesh To Be Found Here

We talk about ruins. We hear the echos of empty hallways made for ceremony. And see melted candle wax dripped down the walls, and spilled all across the floors. Something grips this place; An air that stands in the way of those who wants to pass freely. It warns us with shivers down our spine – An almost familiar kiss to our ears and necks. We walk through ruins, and don’t tend to think much of it. Not everyone has the kind of grit, and righteous indignation it takes put the spirits at ease. You want to know this place, its’ pangs, what harmony it deserves to find; You step soft in reverence as if intending to compose a hymn with your innocent discovery.

Are they ours? No, we can’t claim things as alive as this; They are too hard to read. You laugh and say perhaps the dirt might glow, even shine in a jar! I too think and feel this. I can’t help but be eager to try given your childlike enthusiasm – We will have to bring a jar the next time. But I imagine before too long we’ll be picking up handfuls of dirt; Letting it run from our hands, while we take a seat on the earth, and trace the courtyard stones; Stones laid here for us to touch, in ways that we must listen to nature to learn of. We sit quiet for a moment, and the wild comes. Still is the air, but I know how fun you get when you speak with your animal tongue.

There is a spirit to it all, a mind to the matter, and none of it can be solely ours outside of responsibility to what we choose.

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The Lost & Gone

It’s been so long since you’ve written. The weeks go by and no new word of you has surfaced. You’ve begun to be buried beneath the passage of life and other dust. This isn’t to say, if I disturbed all the layers, that I’d find you under there; No, I don’t believe this is that type of burial. I know there is far too much drawing you to adventure, too much to expound upon in the native tongue of flesh and touch.

I just wish every once and an exhale, that you find time to use your words. Because for those who miss out on the first hand taste of your actions deserve to know at least second hand what you felt; Like the sunsets taken in before they lived! Paint them like only you can picture.

What are you lost for? You know why we don’t talk straight; We have to keep the meaning hidden. Who wants to read something without any curious mysteries? We can only assume that the other has understood the symbols we have placed along the way. So if you’re following or not, You will read. You will ascribe to me whatever you feel, and that will be that.

At some turn you realized, that this my darling was never about completing anything. We don’t finish, we never end. It fragments, it gets drawn apart, but it’s never ending. Isn’t that most clear when we need another sip only breaths after the last?

You could sit there and let everything pass you by, and surely what you’d come up with is something that no where else exists. I wouldn’t be surprised; But I want you to get out there.

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Foresight & Fortune Telling

Do you know how hard it is to see around the corner from 20 meters back?
And now you’re talking about what’s around the bend from here! You make me collapse at the dinner table with laughter, when you go on about the people you’ve had the pleasure of meeting; Some of them are characters I want to put in my books. I doubt I ever will though. I’m always busy acting like I’m too busy to make progress on the story. It would really be a great one, and we know it. Some things you really can see before you go over the cliff. It isn’t a good idea to jump off after this one, since you’d find that unlike your fall, the pages stop about halfway through. If you went up high enough though? You might be able to catch the next installment; I’ve still got breath don’t I baby? So I’m still penning.

I haven’t seen you, I haven’t seen you in – How long has it been?
in a year or maybe ten – It might be ten this August or February;
but it all fits. Whatever the number, It always does,
with us. Yes, we’ve always had snug compositions.

So, gasp – you’re looking blue, ravishing too –
gasp as I kiss you over the waterfalls and down the river ways;
across my seas of mere abandon; I find a seat next to you.
You are sitting right here and I can touch you, as thick as a fog you can’t see through
and we are silent. Absolute, ear ringing silence permeates the veil.
like we’ve been waiting for a better time to speak! Like we’ve been;

All these years in dark undergrowth and canopy layers that a fire would find itself quenched by before anything could burn, all these years spent smoldering, like the last flame has gone out; but we’ve survived
and you don’t need to speak. You didn’t, nor do you, have to say anything,
for me to hear you. Without words my answer was given.

Tomorrow, we’ll part, as we all always do. This is just the ship leaving port. We usually talk about how wild and fantastic it is to make land elsewhere after times spent on the water. It’s nothing dire. It’s nothing we haven’t handled before; It’s just our infrequent pastime – I wouldn’t call it a holiday – but if it was a date I’d mark it.
And again, no tears, no remorse. In a year. Or ten. In another corner, of another world, perhaps in one of the books I’ll leave at a spot I like to frequent, or someplace entirely familiar to forego all that telling;

Our love will
find its way again

I’ve always had a telling for everything,
and it isn’t gold that is in your dreams.

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The Gift

I won’t let my genius be my misery, and death

When you start to question whether it ever existed, you begin to erase yourself. While none of us or any of it is permanent, that doesn’t mean the record is blank, that every step outside is like water thrown into the ocean.

Imagine what you could do with such a brilliance! Imagine what it could do to you if you were to use it for self destruction. Wouldn’t it really sink you low? Its’ hold on the bottom would be quite the weight. I am certain no nightmare more hellish could be enacted! If you think you’re going through anything in this moment, I plead you to turn around and go back towards the surface. Whatever you’re feeling now, is nothing like what you could puzzle together if you keep picking up omens.

It’s quiet & slow. This isn’t the way I really enjoy it. It isn’t the mood I was hoping for. Something sort of lingers in my vessel; It isn’t any thing harsh or vile, but I still feel the drag of an anchor. Perhaps a bit of malaise, as I adjust to the reduced grandeur of the days. Is it poor? No, plenty of wealth is still had, but it just doesn’t have much hip in the hop – Or jump to the step? Laying down at night is pretty barren. The bed sleeps great, but the passenger is not looking for shut eye. And really it should be fine, but it just isn’t the same.

A little time has to pass. This wasn’t who you were. Now I don’t know where you went and left yourself, but I’ll be waiting somewhere for you. If you don’t make it, don’t worry; Not everyone does. It wouldn’t be the worst thing.

Oh damn the wheel of the world, why must it continually lay over! Lay it down. Your tired body. Lay it down. All the things you have been trying to hold together must go  ways. And there is only one way for this.

Your gift is something I’ve seen. It was fire to the first men. Metal to the ages. It was the seed to the dirt, and land on the horizon; Rubido to the alchemists; And light in the depths of the cave – I touched it heavy. I dragged my entire vessel through the fountain. My attempts to take what I had uncovered saw only drought, for what was discovered could only be known where it had been found. To stay meant death, and to leave was goodbye.

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A Mouth Full Of Vitals

I want to collapse into the sweet earth, the dirt is my home.
I must not forget that it will be the final place I lay;
Because unlike the lovely rooted denizens ,
My connection is not so physical
Face in the dust, a mouth full of mud
I won’t say anything that filthy.

I’m floating along with all my pride,
What a foolish thing I constantly parade over my mind.
It is more than ironic that this time I am Caesar and the knife

I’ve hoped for mornings,
and I think I’ve been given more than enough sunrises

I never mean these ends
I just want to write about happiness

I can not show my face in the city,
The grime will not find lodging, so I must take some time
I will go away now for a while