Some People Really Do What They Love

“Life comes down to this — you can do anything, there are no limits to what you can achieve, but you do have to decide what you want to do, and then get to doing it.” – One of the secrets of life

Why are we always waiting? It is the man, the woman; who does not wait – patient – but refuses to wait, who becomes successor to the gods

I sat for a long time with this. I let the music play until I did not recognize where I had been or where I was. I am sure where I started was seeking to find that fable of all fables, but that forever eternal is a frozen moment, not much longer than the instant it takes for a molecule of water to slow down to a freeze and move back into a flow with the temperature fluctuating the way it does. It’s a complex measure, in truth, we have no measure yet to define and capture all that is encompassed; apart from perhaps that indelible mark, the arrow that always strikes true on the person who is fully human. Love; Stronger than man-rejoicing wine? More inextricably linked as they share a similar visceral – guts on the table – joy, and dichotomy of honesty & deceit ever tearing. Yes, I sat for a long time and I would offer up the notion that love can stand to measure every nuance from end to end.

Some people really do what they love,
and others are driven beyond love
because it’s not enough. To them and I both,
I offer my felicitations – a belly full of wine
when and if the time ever comes.

What are you waiting for?

 

Wisdom of Grace

“I guess dirt is a good foundation for Green”
– Grace, On what comes before

Do not underestimate the power
of letting a fellow traveler
examine closely your thoughts;
the exchange of words in the old fashion.
Speak beautifully, construct the response,
and fear not being misunderstood.
The travel of two is always a blessing
to the journey — Like a fixed star,
these moments gift to your voice
some sort of guide along the road — Something to bounce ideas off of even if they don’t come back right away.  Internally, perspective stirs the concepts, it stokes the flame; feeding it when you thought you might be on your last log

Share the tastes, and pangs of life.
Even if it is dirt, you can both agree on that.
And what’s more, when it isn’t dirt…
you’ve both got something of a shared celebration!

 

Well Don’t Get Lonely Now

Music to watch boys to, it’s something a certain type of girl swallows;
But my eyes don’t follow

I am afraid there is nothing here for you to take;
With you there is a do not disturb sign over the door to the party
and I’m dancing, all by myself it’s euphoric — You’re there,
but off in the distance.
A plush and comfortable space littered
with shattered mirrors and empty bottles.
I don’t drink, really I don’t unless it takes me
someplace worth disappearing to;
a matte black room with gold trim
keeps all the noise outside – and whatever we do, inside

Wish I may, wish I might — Really do what I ought tonight.

I can’t keep track of it all, you disaster, you ballroom head turner
In practice, you dance alone, but imagine that people are watching.

With yourself, in solitude are you lonely?

The second you reach out someone’s hand is there for you,
although a hand with intention is not what you are seeking.
So you sit back, pretty high, on what you believe to be a throne.
You don’t recognize it but entitlement forces the image in your mind
that every seat is a throne. Every stare is thus unqualified and non-deserving of the art you unveil. You feel superior, empowered to take back what you believe has been usurped by a quiet observer’s glance over the courtyard common grounds. A garnish, you must get something more from those beneath you
else you can not feel whole,

And when they aren’t watching? When by their own self acceptance and love they choose to look through you… what then?
Who will you be in that moment?

Money, Notoriety, & Rivieras

Lights like how you imagine them, all perfectly lit to the evening; not to scrutinize anything, but to allow you to feel the deepest of dreams – it’s a feeling dammit, you fill it all in as you go – next time you fill it all with local analgesics from your recent trip to 2012, or perhaps color it in with temperatures from some of your Sumeria summers. These aren’t quantifiables. They are vivids of the imagination, a glimpse of you.

You can’t slip quietly through any cracks.

I had something I was writing you; it wasn’t a sonnet or anything like an ode, limerick, or quatrain-no it was just something-nothing like a burlesque, or villanelle; you know it had shape, sound and visual! Perhaps a rondeau is well in order, but not until you wait in line.

I’m a firm believer that when you work hard at something, and I mean truly work hard… You can appreciate the master work we happen upon in this life beyond what the innocent eye can see-yes you can stare for a long time and just keep seeing depths, while the others walk by only moments later because they have seen the mirrors surface, and none of the movements that brought it about, none of the steps that brought it before them.

A night with you, is always the shortest night of my life–Before I know it the sun strikes me across the spheres. We’re not anywhere near the…hush, it’s not a dream you can just leave.

We Drink From Tiered Fountains

Are you intrigued?

We drink from tiered fountains when we’re thirsty. Call it poor etiquette, barbaric behavior, or a health code violation, and we’ll just laugh you out of your own courtyard until the moon comes mad in the night; howling dares up at the gods to come join us in your bed.

We drink wild, and thunderous libations not made for us, but hell we down em’ and taunt you to say something vivacious – with such a fire that livacious might be considered a word – Actively engaged in living energetically; abounding with life; being in a pure state; with more to lose than a lascivious candle watching its wax melt down and drip on hot iron rather than flesh.

I watched your dark clouds roll in, and your heavy atmosphere coalesce long before the cool kids turned you into songs about what you do to their wind chimes and dream catchers.

Ages back it was just us and the moon.
No other bodies or forces mattered.

Now the force is with everyone and,
no one has a clear read.

I won’t go back, I have put foot to this field,
and on the other side is my death or cleansing calamity

And I’ll tell you why when get there

Squaring The Circle

Some colors simply go well together.

But some things, people, can’t be blanketed under one or even a few; gradients, we need gradients! So many layers exist, and no amount of coats will cover what persists. To use the word monochromatic to describe either of us would be cowardly, fearful of what it might actually encompass to square the circle in this case.

If you aren’t painting with a full palette, I must ask that you consider what might be lost.

She hasn’t said anything of late but I know how quiet she can be. I see it, but I don’t call it’s name. If I didn’t know her so well, if I didn’t know so intricately the knots in her back; It might all turn me over, and leave me prone.

You want me to be safe, I want burning, dangerously close to the end of my wick; Smoke begins to pick up, fire names my last breath an ember, a ruby in a glass – It sings to me

She wants me to listen when I begin to erupt; Is it because I’m selfish, and a tad poor of hearing? Might I sometimes descend down the chain with a few mighty roars; Or climb up to see with omniscient eyes? Hopefully it’s a ratio of only 3:1. I think she knows it’s the things in my past she still hasn’t brushed the grime from yet.

I want her to be around for as long as men have told lies, so that I can perhaps speak the truth; that never would I have believed something so wonderful before I lived to see enough to prove there is more to life than tragic beauty. I want her to tell me the things there are no answers to, when she finds them of course. Maybe we can agree on some

I already had said goodbye, step by step. I had to. She was going places, and even if I wanted to go with her, I couldn’t; There was no way I could keep up – I’d only be holding her from where she wanted to go, and what she wanted to see.
I told myself I’d never let it get me, I wouldn’t break down and let that shit fuck me up anymore. And I guess I won’t know until years down the road if I was able to keep my integrity.

I woke up wanting to kiss you, but wants are never needs.

What Does It Take? Confidence; It’s All Confidence’

Do you think I love you? If I spoke nothing, could you tell from how I act? Without words to run over you, would my warm soul be enough to keep you out of the cold? If not, then I fear I did not live my life as I had dreamt it; That was where I fumbled – I dreamt it all, and did not act in a way that would bring my dreams to reality. I did not act in a way that would give to you reasons beyond believing; You know my take on faiths.

Are there people who truly believe there is not one thing they can not do? I’ve been on fire like that before! The flames don’t do any harm … at first. They light up the room, illuminate the corridors and corners, and before long you’re cooking in the kitchen – Nourished like a god. Naturally we begin to find that comfort. How could one not find the slightest comfort in waking the mind of a god? Played true to the self It’s so unbelievably intrinsic, from a base level, that we quickly hit the pitfalls; It’s so bright all the time that you begin to adjust to it. You claim that it is dark and begin to over saturate; You piled on too much fuel didn’t you? The flames don’t hurt at first – Then all they do is burn; You don’t forget. You won’t forget.

It is easy to forget all the lessons we integrated along the way; It is easy to forget that we are still required to breathe above all the other things we deem important. Yes, it is the number one lesson. It is something so simple and important, yet despite that importance, you are not to hold on to it. Don’t you see now? What all along your very breath has been trying to teach?

Don’t tell me that shit; You know damn well you can tell if it’s one way or another. You’ve drank my blood and know my death. I can not promise that this will be an easy thing to piece together. It took me all the years of my life so far. I had to find the pieces of the puzzle, but it was so much more than that. The study of each one as an entire individual. Holding each up to the sun to check it’s authenticity, and then sleeping with it under my pillow for many nights – Is there anything I have not allowed to permeate into my mind? You should be able to tell – Haven’t you been spelunking enough to know? I guess it is hard to discern when your head is constantly finding itself thrashed about by these waves.

God, look at her take another hit. Everything is so smooth, all of her is flowing softly; On the outside flames burn controlled – She is a back-draft waiting to roar, and I have no desire to run from the blast. If people are to be damned, then being damned together is a sweeter trail for us to taste. Isn’t it appalling how depressed you get? You’ve got all the finest things a child could grab at, all the refined taste of an aged wine, and dripping juices like a peach of immortality – We’ll have our own feast ; All we can eat; We’ll walk around in a jade palace – We’ll live indefinitely. Together? That depends on how well we learn to forgive. Olympus knows the troubles that can be had when you have forever.

Yes, we must learn to manage these pesky grains of sand. I asked once if I could place an entire desert in our hourglass – Perhaps we’d have time to digest; To find room for those desserts you always wanted. I remember when you spent the whole day running errands to make one that day. Oh goodness, it was sweeter than laying in bed after accepting that you just don’t have it in you to get up quite so fast – The last grain slipped by while I waited for an answer. I’ve never much enjoyed waiting since.

It all goes downhill at some point. Things have to come down. That’s the way it works. I know I’m a broken record, telling you this again, but what do you expect to come from this high? There is a come down at the end. Maybe we we can land softly, for sure you go back up – How many times can you stand back up with me after hitting the ground?

What will you drink at this divide? Is it me or will you kneel to the well?