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| may 2007 |
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| elemental | 1:00am wednesday, 30th may |
in my pain and wondering, the sky stared down dispassionate
the million tears i cried, the river swallowed them all without a thought
i shouted into the wind, but its forgetting was always louder
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| First | 1:22am saturday, 26th may |
I never thought I could come in first. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I was usually an abject failure in almost any sport I played when I was growing up; though never the last one picked for kickball, I was certainly never near the top of the list. Even intellectually, I denied for the longest time that I was in any way truly gifted, so I didn’t even look there for any kind of competitive display. Even in more mundane things, being first in line wherever there are lines that form: for the movies, to board a train, the first one to come into work: I was resigned never to be first in anything. But lately, I found out that I can, that it’s not out of the question. It was an astounding thing. Little things, now: first out of the train coming to work, the first one up the stairs, the first one to board a plane. It’s enough to give me a certain hope. That maybe — just maybe — anything really is possible.
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| understand | 2:18am tuesday, 22nd may |
i wake and i am desolate in my hope for that hour, as if crashed
is it only through the lenses of pain the proper things are magnified?
we squeezed all the liquid suffering into the ink of our poetry
turned the page as it was burning, to forget every single mark
where time is forged, a new hour was molten and hammered out
now the minutes will not bend, the future can no longer be closed
the pieces of us scattered out in the dirt: we grope the sharp edges
as if to assemble a soul, my soul, there is glue everywhere, drying
i thought i knew how i was put together, like my father’s watch
though even that i had pieces left over when crouched over it
sweating the small stuff, how could it possibly be so complicated?
and the new hour comes, and we are not ready, the eyes over us
...and there is booming laughter, the doom passed by, a new hope
“forgive me father, i have sinned,”: no more pain, please: just
or whatever. i understand a little of how these things work
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| In the Dreaming 8 | 12:56am friday, 18th may |
In the dreaming, I stared at myself so intently that I burst into light.
In the dreaming, a hundred birds came together to form an angel in the air.
In the dreaming, a thousand candles hung in the air and flickered silently.
In the dreaming, I looked down a bottomless pit and saw the end of the world.
In the dreaming, water flowed through the skies in branches like trees.
In the dreaming, I screamed so loud that I cracked clouds open.
In the dreaming, I was alone in a vast darkness, yet hope would not die.
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| Good | 12:37am monday, 14th may |
On a given morning, the city streets smell all of coffee and fried eggs. This is reality. These are good times. I wonder what I will think of what is going on, right now, if and when the days get dark — as they have been known to. For it all seems as if things are coming together, in a synchronized whole, that these are the “happily” in “happily ever after”. Or could it be that everything will work out, and the days that come will be even greater than I can imagine? No, I cannot imagine it. I am still giving it my best to comprehend the morning smell, as I walk through the city in the fresh morning, still trying to grasp the positives in this going of life. Reality can be this way, what do you know? Life is not made of pain, as I once conjectured. Mayhap not to get too used to where I am now, for better or worse to come: this is most probably only a transition between states...
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| trip | 2:24am thursday, 10th may |
trip the light fantastic in the eye of the inner world
so many places i’ve been while seated here in this armored chair
dreams no one could begin to imagine, countries all my own
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| Unexpected | 1:29am sunday, 6th may |
The most unexpected things happen when you thought you were ready for them. Shows what you know. There are times when you are carried on a high and beautiful wave, and you know exactly where you are, and you know exactly where you are going, but yet what is in you has less bearing than when you are totally lost — flying on a wing and a prayer, so high from the ground, is dizzier than lacking that ground, having no reference at all. Not to say it is not a joyful thing, this disorientation, for such delightful confusion is much of what makes life great. In fact, prepare for the best, at least sometimes, and you’ll find that the best in life can in no way be as you might prepare for. I think it is no mistake: Heaven, even on earthly terms, is not to be understood by mortal means. When God’s will is done (remember how we pray that it be done on Earth as it is in Heaven), you touch the infinite for the barest of fractions, so beyond you what joy is possible: why it is that angels must have wings to go into the Presence.
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| riddling | 1:11am wednesday, 2nd may |
on a clear day, i can see past forever
though this is merely an illusion of my pride
wondering succinctly about time
i know this is a fruitless subject to understand
when not instead living in its course
we have all been there, at the crossroads
and some went here, and some went there
some even went back to the beginning
and started again, with greater determination
but less turns of the wheel left to unwind
i myself did not begin until much later
when all else had been exhausted
and the only way left was salvation
dreaming now of what i might have been, how
i would have been lost and not understood
that i knew nothing, felt none of it
went through the motions of living
and been a ghost without a house to haunt
wandering from island to island
where i would lay down my rags and dream
about how i am just now, like this
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