Tuesday, December 25, 2012
the color reaching emotions too high for human souls, more neurotic than alien species. An emotion that killed off civilizations.
the spark that fills the immediate atmosphere, with sprites that kindle north and south..a whole fucking world of dim light..where all looks a standard of beautiful in the collective. Both straight and bent souls can conceive.
makes Love to the entity's above, kissing pain. Falling deeper into the salty turbulence, abreast the beautiful and sad grit and mire.
bringing the desire to see her eyes once more. The floor in the mansion of a broken heart in Kerouac's cynical speech of life and honor.
its so cold...its so alone...
beckons the whole in me to fall again, over and over, til the rest is dust. Waiting for the rain to wash away the truth of me. To reveal to me the truth-
That I am...nothing.
its everything. Its everything. Forever and always~
Saturday, October 20, 2012
But we are young..and strong. Weak is for the emotionless. We choose to feel all things.
She looks at him, in that moment. The soundtrack of her choice plays through her head, making a mainstay memory. This one is gonna hurt a while.
He reaches for her in the silence that is all he's capable of now. The words flow without a sound and effort to her soul, " It's ok...it's going to be ok...Love has you, my little darling."
She feels her heart just cannot bear another heartache. She asks herself, inquisitive and pendantic what went wrong. If there was some evil that is lending itself to help the karma of the moment overtake her well-earned, goodness of a soul.
Truly nothing, Love.
Life is as we make it. We get thrown pieces we are expected to make sense of. Placing them on top of the deep piles of unused portions of our lives that we just, don't, want, to see, any longer. And it's ok, Love..it really is.
Your mind is akin to those that see those pieces of dark color and saddening sediment for what they are. And after the moment of surprise is gone...you giggle. Not a full blown laughter, and nowhere near a cynical reaction, but a reality re courses its path through your soul and it tickles you.
You wont be bought.
You wont be subtle.
You wont be sold.
You wont be disabled.
You wont be crushed...
You, wont, be..destroyed.
Because you've seen it before. The pieces that come as a part of this life.
And you remember assembling them to a point.
But you remember, as you stood back, you saw it only pieced together an ugly mosaic of control. A stained tapestry of moments life told you to quit.
And you remember, it nearly had you convinced. But then you quoted the above, all on your own. In the silent places no one has ever seen, or heard of..not even those closest to the deepest part of your selfless Love. The places where your powers are only limited by what you believe. The things they'll never see...the strength they'll never see.
Because it lies underneath your tears. They see that as weakness. And 'the powers that be' throw you more and more to get you to break. But they don't realize
...you cannot break what is unbreakable...
...and its unbreakable...because its broken...
You are, and it's beautiful...it's the only way the true light in the dark can overcome all things.
It's the only state where we are truly strong.
So gather your sticks, make a fire..stay a while. The breath you breathe is fresh and new. And while you sleep here, you affect them. Do you know? I believe you do..and so do 'they'. The rest of your world. You save them everyday by it, your brokenness.
Shine on, my sweet friend. Your light has even touched my soul.
Shine on. :)
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Monday, August 6, 2012
" So," he says, walking firmly on the birm above the breaker wall, " Blondes, brunettes, gingers? What, bro? Is there honestly a preference that a young guy looks for? Really? Like hair color is going to be a pre-requirement?"
" No, bra," honestly shaking my head to the ground, " Besides, we're speaking, ummm, I don't know..metaphorically? Hypothetically? What? And how old is this guy?"
" Twenty-three, bro."
" Hehe, seriously? That guy isn't old enough to even determine he's a mama's boy yet. Does he live at home, still?"
" Yep. And not in a 'had to move back in' sense. He just hasn't left yet."
" Wow, bra- Ok, so we're talking, what? This guy just started dating? Or is he some type of newbie pimp? We took him out ONCE! Ha!"
" Dude, you remember though, when everything was about that, right? Like, girls were just things you put in your pocket for later. The ones you knew you'd lose or the ones that were just too hot..? Shirt pocket, right? Haha!!"
" Haha!! Bradda...you know I missed that phase."
" No. You started early and were done by the time the rest of us came around to seeing girls as 'kissable'."
" Yea, yea...I don't know, bro. So, wait, what's his name again? The kid?"
" It's Alex, he calls himself 'Alpha'..."
"ALpha!! Alpha??? Did he name himself that at the bar the other night?"
" He DID, bro."
" Wow- wow. Ok, so..Alex. And he's asking YOU about what you look for in a girl. Hate to break it, but you've been circling the same 'woman' for how long now? This kid ain't ready to be serious. Dude...YOU are a closet relationship junky, bra."
" Haha! How so? And why do you have to call me out like that? Hehe..I KNOW what I'm doing, ok? Just something in her I can't let go."
" I know this, bro. You don't think I see it? And hey- if it's because of our little 'wingman for a few years' deal, I'm calling a break in treaty. Yes, the chick is crazy. Yes, she's done some weird stuff over the past few months. But the SECOND she told you that if you weren't going to get serious with her, or in your words: ' I don't see this going anywhere', you ass... She says shes lookin' at gettin' serious with this other guy, you're ALL over her again. Am I summing this up correctly?"
" Ugh, dude..its not.."
" F*ck yeah, it IS..like 'that'. Do you remember your thirteen steps, bra? What's the last one?"
Simultaneously, we yell, " DENIAL!!!"
Uproarious laughter, " Dude, you remembered that! Haha!! What was that like, 10 years ago?"
" Yea, back when we were playa's. HAHA! Ah, bro, should we revisit the other twelve?"
" Haha! Yep, ready? Ok, first 5, lie 'til you get in the door. Six through eight, bring the tears."
" Nine through eleven, gentlemen until the end."
" And twelve...ugh...twelve, hahaa..."
" Yea, dude...hehe..twelve was always fun."
" Not always fun..sucked waking up with your tighties stuck to you."
" Ah, SH*T, bra!! You HAD to go there, of course..you're the 'Big DC'."
" You're the 'big PK'."
" 'Mediocre Pk'. So anyways, this guy right? Are you pimp-training or something?" Laughter from Dc, I continue," Is there some school I need to be made aware of where you're teaching this stuff?"
" No, dude, haha! Like I said, he was asking about what I look for in a girl. The question to you was, why you never hit on anyone when we go out?"
" You seriously are the worst communicator I've EVER known, You're worse than the ex, you know that?"
" Dude, just answer the question."
" Aight, aight, ha. Well, its like this. I've always been a one woman man. You would know, seeing as you're the same way. We go out, talk a ton of hype, make nothin' of it, right? So here it is...ok, wait. I have to get this off my chest. Bro? Seriously? If its because of our 'deal' that you're holding this girl off? Then you need to re-evaluate the nature of your RELATIONSHIP. Yes, I said it."
" Pk, you don't even know what.."
" NOPE..no, no, no. We aren't talking about that right now. You're still on step thirteen, remember? We're at that age we gotta start reversing those steps. Teach 'em to 'Alpha', haha! He'll use them well, I'm sure. Goin around callin himself 'Alpha'- What is he like..a buck fifty? Maybe? He's not six foot either, he ain't taller than me."
" Yeah, haha! He's a pippy. Yuppy little guy, kinda cute, don't ya think?"
" Haha, yes, cute, bra. Ok, want me to answer this?"
" YES, bro! Sincerely, all ears..GO."
" So, there's intimacy. You'd know. It's the moments you know you love sharing but hate showing it. Those movies you learn you actually like, so you do away with the stereotype. Sometimes, we get lucky and find one that enjoys the occasional guy flic. They all say they like 'em, but truth be told."
" Yep, yep."
" Oh! Dude, did you try that thing on her I told you? With the peppermint lip balm?"
Coyly, " Hehe..yeah..hehe, I did. Dude...yeah..."
" Ok, just checkin. We're SO gonna chat about it in a minute. Ok. So intimacy. We used to not care whether it was the couch, living room, dining room, bathroom...on the rug in front of the fireplace..passin crevassier, haha, etc, you know.."
" Yea, yea.."
" It was anywhere, all the time, anytime. I'll summarize because we should go soon. It's not that I'm looking for any particular thing. True, there are idiosyncrasies I must get over in myself. Bad memories, things I'm closed off to, all that. Stuff that are 'preferences', yada, yada, yada... What I want? I want to touch her face, whomever she is. I want to taste what her cheeks look like after she takes her face off at night. Run my fingers over her wrinkles and imperfections, tell her 'its ok' and that I'm totally into the way she looks to me. Nibble at her ears, take her earrings off with my tongue and teeth, hehe... Dude, there are SO many perfect looking women out there. Not what I'm after. But if she can hold her own while I feel her out? The scars, the blemishes, the marks she'll no doubt be like ' Eww, don't touch that! I HATE that about my body!' and SWAT my hands away..yeah. The times when we get to be just us, ourselves in a bedroom with the door open. The mornings I get to leave her in bed to go down and cook up some 'gourmet petit dejeuner'. And seconds later, she comes behind me and wraps herself up around my chest, TOTALLY interfering with what I'm trying to do to impress her or...be romantic an sh*t? Yeah, those moments. When I know we can just deal with what comes on our time. That I don't have to pretend 'its all ok' all the time, wear that 'oh, I'm totally ok, all the time' face..stooopid. Start fights with her simply so I can hear strong opinions other than my own. Maybe watch her spin herself down just so at the end I can tell her she's right and I'm wrong. Have a staring contest just to watch the sunset in each others eyes, exchanging 'favors' when one of us loses, hehe. And ya know? I can find that with any girl. It's a question of: Do I want that with just any girl? I don't know, yet. But there's this one.."
" Knew it bra..tell, come on.."
" It's no one I've met, no one you know. I don't have pictures bro..just a thought that races around my mind from day to day. Trips me out..makes me miss her."
" I know, bra..I know what you feel."
" Yeah? That's good, bra, shows we've grown."
" Pk? ...can we like...kiss or something?"
" HAHAHA! Dude, DON'T swear me, bro, you know I'll do it, haha! But hey..not in front of the kids.."
" Yeah, for sure. Hey, seriously though man. Think I should 'see where it goes' with this one? Again?"
" My opinion? Yes. But make sure you're ready, I can tell you, you are, bra."
" Also, Pk?"
" What up, breh?"
" I Love you, bra."
" Love you too, bra..fo eves, right? Heehee! Let's do 'dis."
Walking off the pier, towards the car," We'll address 'Alpha', later."
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Then bubblegum dreams and pixie stick comments and haircuts. Comments on romantic and sexual connections, trying to feed that same demon that bounced back and forth between the chains we had tied around it's neck, as if we were its masters.
Remember some of things we said? (HAHAHAHAHA! O..mg, Sissa). " Well, if I were me..." (*Giggles out loud!).
There is a time in all our lives where things have fallen apart. A house we built falls on unstable rubble that becomes what we try to make solid foundation. We learn a lot, by ourselves. "They" come and go. Staying for a while, feeling the depth of pain and investment needed to put us upright..and leaving. You..were NEVER too heavy for me ;). It was at the time all was falling down, settling onto instability, you came in. Not walked, flew through the air and tackled me (remember? :)). Whereas energy becomes intimidating and others run in fear or just drop the connection, the fire inside us brazed our souls together..at such a time when we were both falling and fading out. And no one knew it but each other..and ourselves.
Sissa...you helped save this soul...how grateful can a man be? Only to see his children grow and fly eons away from where he began. That about covers the emotion (because I'm weeping at the thought...right now).
Sissa? I'm sorry I left your life for that terrible period of time. You know it wasn't me, but its no excuse. I broke my promise to you. I regret only 2 things in my life...that is one of them. I would have it all back and have left her, right then. However, there is purpose in the brokenness, right? ;)
Ok, now that you're ugly crying..here's some more :). Hehe!!
We've watched each other go through lover after lover, meeting nothing to avail but lessons learned and paths corrected. That night, Christmas evening, you told me of this Lover you had, of whom I never forgot...Thomas. At the mention, it didn't matter to me what happened, what he did wrong, I fell in Love with him. You remember, don't you :).
Casually coming up over the years, and my feeling never left. My opinion never left, " Sissa, you're supposed to be with that man. He's going to come back, but will you be ready? Will he? I don't know..but I do know this..he's your man, you're his girl."
NOW...not gonna say 'I told you so', we could do a lot of that with each other, huh? Heehee!!
What I saw was this: I came, helped hold up that house at the foundation. As with all work in all things, at the moment things got slightly weary and worrisome, some guy comes walking up. Having the same casual demeanor and chemical makeup as myself...as you. He walks right by, looks at me for a second. Smiles and says, " thanks, I got it from here, but hang out a bit." And with a slap on the shoulder, kiss on my cheek and sidewards grin, he pulls out a hammer..walks over to the pile of timber you had so specifically piled categorically- as if you'd forget how this house went back together, and pulled, piece by piece from the pile. As he touched each piece of lumber, it turned to gold. I watched, mesmerized..
I held my corner until the weight shifted from my extended arms. He masterfully had rebuilt ALL the foundations without a single piece of lumber left in the pile (didn't he? :)). As if he knew the plan that was in your soul. I shrugged, walked out from under the house, still needing a little work, but standing. I stood next to him, admiring the work. I turned to him and said, " Good work, Brova."
He grinned," Thanks, my brotha. Btw, I'm not scared of you..my name is Thomas."
" I know...I've been waiting for you, and ONLY you. And you should know something.."
" Yea? Whats that?"
" I'll tell you the story on your wedding day. Cheers bra, go get her!"
And Sissa...Brova: Here's the story of the lasting rest:
(It's a blank page)
Sissa...we WERE that demon's master. With all that back and forth, we choked that demon out..together. We beat this thing that tried to kill us as beautiful souls. (*Touching your face, cupping your chin, kissing your cheek) And Sissa? You're beautiful...you've never been more beautiful :').
Thomas..there was never a need for making room for you in my heart. You ALWAYS existed there, from the moment I met your energy. Not only just there, but in the stateroom I placed your bride in. I have not felt her more happy since the day we shared space. And as I am hers, I am yours-
With many tears and depth of soul, heart and the Love that makes fear itself shake away into its own grief..I...am...yours, I SWEAR it.
To this day, August 1st, 2012, I pledge my life to defend you two. Sissa will have no other being, as Brova will have no other being. I have been to depths most think impossible for a human soul to endure. The same depths you two have reached and will dive to again. I am familiar with the territory. And wherever you go, I'll be there, with a copy of the map. You married my sister, you ARE my brother, for life..and that's SERIOUS with a triple scorpio ;).
One more thing on that...that also means when shes being a bitch? We can crack beers over the phone about it ;).
Alas, le fin-
You two are the most beautiful soul I have seen paired. Remember this day and all that encompasses it. Make your promises and make them come to pass. It has been my greatest pleasure to have a front row seat to this lifelong dance. I am romanced by your Love. I Love you two, forever and always.
NOW...go make like rabbits ya kiyads!! Heeeeeeeheee!!!
Sunday, July 22, 2012
So I was having a bad day a few days ago, I had to take some time to sit down and just think. Finding I had nothing to think about that was anything of value I went through my old notebook and a ton of letters fell out, some I never gave you. Here's a few and the thoughts that followed (spelling/grammar corrected):
" Dear Rayray, my brother wrote this for me. I'm sorry that I stole the last Lick-a-Stick from under your mattress then lied about where I got it when I got caught with it at my house. I DID NOT tell my mom that you told Brandon to make me clean your toilet with pee in it if I didn't eat it (I know that's what your sister told you). I told her that you'd never kiss me like grown-ups again and I got in SO much trouble. I know they called your house and talked to your mom, I'm sorry. It's my fault you're grounded and that you're mad at me. But I didn't say anything about stealing that pack of Mambas from Kmart. Don't stay mad at me forever, I miss my Rayray :(."
-Hehe, forgot about this one, you didn't say anything to me for like...2 weeks!! And OMG there was capital punishment for having candy that wasn't given to you, right?? To this day, I am firm on NEVER doin that to my guys...bet you're the same with yours.
" Hi, buddy girl! This is a thank you/I love you letter. I am like...SO happy that you didn't bail me when you kept getting prettier and more popular and I just got uglier and more strange in middle school this year. All our friends don't even talk to me anymore. I know its because I started getting zits and my parents can't buy clothes from any expensive stores. But you kept talking to me, even when that time Lisa and Candace were making fun of me and you came up and hugged me? That made me feel SO GOOD, you're a real friend Rayray!!
We'll its summer now! Yay!! Beach and stuff!! Going to be SO fun. And its ok if you don't invite me to stuff. I'll always see you around the block and I know we'll still hang out and do stuff like the movies, Tar hands and Tar Pits, remember that?? Haha! Our parents used to get SO MAD!! I think the Indian clay creek is still full of clay, we could make pots and stuff again! My Voltron robot is still stuck in there somewhere. Whenever though :). OH!!! And remember the crawdads?? Like that time we caught a million of them and put them in my moms tamale pot and she made me work in the weird Chinese ladys yard until I could buy her a new one? Haha!! Anyways, we were weird kids, I know you're still like that. Good thing some people never change, Ray :) Anyways, this is getting long and I'm getting like..Popeye arms writing this, but its for YOU so I don't care! :) Ha!
I never talked to you about Duncan..really? Duncan? He's nice and stuff but...ah, nevermind. I'll tell you later. But I DID see you guys kissing in the field behind the baseball field and he was grabbing your butt! (Not telling your mom, but ew). Maybe at Sega night. OH! Danny got a Genesis for his birthday!! Maybe we should go there? You can tell me later, I'll bring the Crunch Tators, BBQ flavor like you like. AND friends beer.
So I gotta get my homework done so, see ya!!"
-Haha! IBC Root Beer, I wonder if that's still around? And, um..I was JEALOUS of Duncan..you never knew, I never told you ;). Remember we totally were going to cook those crayfish but left them beside my house? Only reason my mom found out was because the livingroom smelled like deadsies for a week..
" Rayray. So I'm half way done with high school. I can't BELIEVE its come this fast!! Wow, its like yesterday we were painting make up on my GI Joe figurines..CRAZY, right? Well, this letter has a purpose and I'm so shy but I need your help with something...and you're SO NOT ALLOWED TO LAUGH! K??? Ugh..I know you're going to and I won't make you promise, so here goes. Your sister? She's um..SUPER cute! And I know she's been hanging around what's his name for a week now but are they going together? I kind of have a crush on her. Ugh, I know you're laughing at me, but for REALZ!!! I want to ask her to go with me but I'm so shy. Will you ask her? You can tell me this weekend when we go see Batman Returns, yay!!! Been waiting SO long for that movie. Have I ever told you how cool you are? I know I dont say it enough, sowy...
And Matthew? AKA: Mr. Mehrtens. You should TOTALLY take creative writing next year, its the coolest class. We get to call him by his first name, I'm sure you've heard. And guess what? That poem I wrote called Fagots? He..LOVED it. He had me read it in front of the class!!! Your favorite part:
" Come on baby, light me up.
Take me in. Taste me.
Suck my shaft down hard and watch my tip light up red. Ahhh, feels so good. A chemical dose of legal high I'll bring you.
Wrap your lips around the tip and pull. You know you like it.
Fondle me with your fingers until my long white shaft is spent and my essence is inside you.
Feel me, baby.
Finish me off.
Pull me out of your sultry wet mouth.
Drop me and step on me.
And we start again, My twin's your addiction."
No one knew it was about smoking..dumbasses, ha!!
Anyways, babe, I love you and can't wait for our buddies date!! And did you hear Steve wants to throw me a birthday party this year? Oh God Im scared. Remember what he did to my house last time? I was grounded for a year. Too..much..vodka...
Ok, going now. Remember about your sister!! (Please?) Maybe you can invite her this weekend? I've totally been the third wheel for you so YOU OWE ME!! Haha! Muah! You're special to me Rayray!! Talk soon! Stussy!!"
-Wow, this was so random. That's really all I have to say about that, haha!! Well, maybe not. But I must say, you've definitely grown on me. There's SO many more! But I'll stop and share them later :). This was fun..really fun..I feel SO much better!
Thursday, July 19, 2012
I'm in a trance, weeping, gently. Let me explain:
This path is so painted with the colors not even represented in any color wheel made by man or angel. Not even could they be mixed into our reality by them. We pass them everyday, often looking into them for ourselves. Or maybe what we can take to fill the empty corners in our blessed lives. Make no mistake, we are ALL- blessed. And they are all so beautiful. At times just like these, they pass through my mind, each getting noticed in detail. The tears fall because of a disbelief that they have crossed such a path as mine, and they bless me.
But also, because I have no words to describe the color..and it floors me and emotion takes over. I haven't even the ability to explain what I see, nor anything to liken it to so I can share the experience with you (reading). It's something you must discover yourself.
Brandon says, " It's time..." Is it? We all have pain, shared and not shared. And the cries from within form themselves into one long and unaffected 'hallelujah'. That echoes out onto the plain fields of day to day life. We all wait for the echo to come back to us. Making investments in things that in the back of our minds have no return value. Nothing equals 'black' in the rule of 72 with them. And this for a reason, so the strength we pull from not being heard gets us through the next cry alone.
It's a human thing...
But, what are we honestly waiting for? If we can't see the beauty in ourselves and our painful experiences, is that not being just as ignorant as those that look into us to complete themselves? I could be wrong, but maybe, just maybe, we change the view and see that another's secure retirement lies in us. Maybe we are the answer to that question. And in reality, it's not what we do that can be enough for someone else, but what we are...those colors that cannot be described in any tongue. And from one to one, ALL of them are different. So do not believe for a second that yours 'doesn't matter'.
Somewhere in the world, there are clouds dissipating. The sun is shining through on a broken heart. And what was planted in that heart is beginning to grow. And the fruit from that tree is a nurturing and healing thing. A life that was lost is taking hold of what brought it's death, and conquering it.
I've only seen her on a page. Pleasant photos revealing the good times. And what I feel is what is never represented in any photo. The true beauty that just brings a lasting peace. Your life is worth more than you know. And we all meet for reasons, not much happens on accident in this life to one that has their eyes open. Maybe in this instance, it was to bring a powerfully simple reminder of that truth. I see it, do you?
To us all, and to her, its not a Lover that needs be searched for. :) But Love itself. To each, may it mean what it needs to. You ARE deeply Loved. May every aspect of your colors, shine on- :)
Saturday, July 7, 2012
There are things, signs, movements in the water. Most are so very unnoticable to the untrained eye (do you see?). And it begs us to pay attention to destiny. Yes, we have every right to go on living our lives blind to them.
There are a few men and women in history that have affected destiny, their's being a destiny to affect it. And the only reason I can see that its necessary...NECESSARY, is for the good of someone else. Whether singularly or corporately.
A man risks a line at a bar to a wall flower, not even pretty to herself. She comes with smiles and pretty petals that smell nice, waiting to be noticed by someone, especially herself. And maybe, just maybe, she left her apartment that night just to give it one more shot. And this brave soul, risking what he can, sits beside her and simply says 'hi'...and they might Love happily ever after.
And a woman, seeking the ease of her own soul reaches out to an office friend, A female. Who in her own life is at the age where husbands die and wives are thrown back into being single. She has grown children whom don't live at home anymore. They have lives of their own. She is young enough to date and maybe find another...but why? Her life (the office mate) is spent going to work from home, errands and keeping up with a life that she never asked for but was dealt. She wonders where her years went and how many she has left. In the back of her mind she believes its over, but- In the middle of a work day, a fire alarm is pulled. The sprinkler system is activated. All others rush away from the wet, but she stays. Points her face to the ceiling and let's the 'rain' wash her office face away, revealing her true self. The woman comes to her, and 'friendily' kisses her on the lips in non-lesbian fashion. Just wanting to connect with that feeling that exists where life was not about having a man in her life, but simply living. And the two souls searching, awaken again. Experiencing Love again, in a completely different connection.
And a man who has followed signs all his life. Unrespected and misunderstood by his family and close friends runs from a cab down a freeway. He doesn't know why he is running, but for his life, he runs. He happens upon a fresh accident, a car in the water. Without a thought, without a micro-second of hesitant behavior, completely bereft of fear- he dives in. After seconds he emerges with two young girls. They scream that their father is still in the car, now all the way under water. He takes his final breath and goes under. Their father comes to the surface..but he doesn't.
A disapproving brother whom has freshly been awakened by the weirdness he sees in this man dives in, looking for his brother desperately. A minute passes as he breaks out of the water, screaming for help, his brother is unresponsive. Medics arrive on the scene and begin to attempt to save the sign-follower's life. An age passes- His brother crying, thinking he has lost something he just minutes ago discovered was most precious to him. Suddenly a cough, a gag, and life returns to the running man.
What does it take to be fearless? Answer these. What does it take to see what destiny is ours that can and will affect someone else. And when the time comes for action, in an instant, will- we- be- ready? Or will we grab our cell phone and call for help? The practice is the perfection. The risk is what we ignore but see everyday when we go to work, to the store, to church. It's the meaning behind everything we walk away from saying, " I should've done this..I should've said that."
And the only difference between 'yours' and 'ours' is a 'why'.
It's not about what can we do. It's about what will we do. To fail is to be practicing. And like Fabian, Doveau, Kent, Michelangelo, etc- practice makes perfect.
So illustrate your life. Make your masterpiece.
Thank you Kevin Landry.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Just walking outside for a moment. That tree- In the morning, sunning from the east its like a christmas tree in summer. And when i fiddle my keys and duck under it, sunning from the west, it feels like dry ice melting.
Right now i cant imagine a stable and happy life. What patterns lead you there? The openness of normal? Ive spent the past few days arguing by myself if im indeed a mockery of whats is innocent and pure in this world. Sometimes my smallest son doesnt want to be with me..what does that mean?
(Where is She? Why did She take so long to get here and leave?)
" Ive been waiting, waiting for this moment all my life. But its not quite right." Tiny blue speakers shouting the true truth to me. The only thing tuned in right now, unless im being felt by someone far away and out of influence no doubt. Im not denying, im just...sad.
I want to fly. Just want to push both blue speakers in and up. So its not like dissappearing, just going away. Just find a thundercloud to hide in, something that falls and leaps with the tempo of my own soul. Maybe be close enough to heaven that John could make out the tear tracks as im not wiping them away. And for these past few days emotions overtake me at the simplest of things. Good music, speed, the thought of 'being good', the needs i could and never will meet.
Its like a transition of an extroverted person becoming a recluse. White walls like a soft cocoon, its just me in here- wow, wow. (So this is what it feels like to...and im wide awake).
I feel a calling in me. The death of spirit and flesh and a very finalizing event showing previews in dreams. I dont even regard them as nightmares, so strange and peaceful. (Why am i ok with this?)
And ive been deep-breathing all day. Long 'sighs', i dont feel ok with myself. I write the entire algorhythm for my lifes path on a whiteboard, knowing ill be the only one ever in this room. Knowing also that She'll find it somehow and mess with my calculations, laughing her ass off, of course. (Please, leave my whiteboard alone, please? Unless you have the courage to really face your fears all at once. Its just not funny anymore...i, am, dying- do you see?)
*hold on, ill be back. I gotta try and get some lazy Friday work done. These guys are actually depending on me and i LOVE wearing dependability.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
" It IS a kiss...a powerful thing."
Shyly and sadly, she walks away from the open window," But, I don't know how to fly."
" Come with me and I'll show you the way to a thousand stars. We'll swim naked in the sea of rings until our skin turns sea blue-green. We'll race around Orion's belt and fly so fast the solar winds turn our hair an angel white. I'll show you where the dragons were made and taught to fly. Where they burned the first heaven and the ash became the things in which deity found a reason to die."
Pensive, he steps out onto the sill and looks down," Come, as soon as I find my happy thought- and a reason to believe in fairies...this might take a while."
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Upon seeing the piece, I was taken, captivated by an emotion so familiar to me as I choose to see it day by day. Something I live with like an appendage I can never lose or get rid of. Like thinking as a child I used to ride my bike so fast expecting to crash. Seeing the limit of ability to take sharp corners or beat cars out of their driveways. Knowing always the inevitability of an accident of some sort. Also knowing I'd never hurt this one piece of me, so the risk assessment to me was as an upside-down penny.
I collected some pictures with my phone and she emailed a couple as well. She told me the story of where it came from, mentioning the phrase 'aborted pearls'. It was that phrase that compounded my thoughts about it. It was a gift from her guy he picked up from one of those romantically situated tents at Burning Man. Him being an easily connectable soul too (LOVE these people). After the conversation, I settled into a form of very conscious meditaion. The music and physical clatter became shades of sepia and grayscale. I looked around the room at all these people I Love so dearly. Connecting with each one of them on varying levels. Feeling ALL things at once, but noticing also the hidden things. You must know, among all circles I make myself a part of, these are the most open, the most genuine. But for some reason whether past childhood experience in rejection, intrinsic upbringing or other forms of emotional matter that make us up as we grow, they still seemed to feel that need to keep behind closed doors the darker things. I connected deeply on the matter with a beautiful, BEAUTIFUL soul that night- but that's another piece for another time. I was a little saddened- let me explain: I was born without the 'hide' gene. To not wear my emotions on my person like summer clothing has been something I cannot do, no matter how hard I try to be 'guarded'. Maybe I feel my mistakes and dark closets are there to house others with similar experiences. I wear them on the outside so maybe they might feel a little less human (figure that one out on your own time :)). So to relate on the the matter of feeling this need to hide escapes me. But that night, like others, I looked into their eyes and made myself metaphysically connected with each one just as deeply as I was emotionally connected with this beautifully sad pendant.
So you might be asking, " PK...what the f*ck did it look like??!!" HAHA!!! Theres pics below, brothas and sistas.
But this is what I saw: It was the inside of a shell. Maybe a clam or an oyster, I couldn't tell right away. As you can see, it's cut into a shape that leaves an allegorical conclusion. But I'm going with an oyster shell. It had 8...EIGHT unfinished pearls inside with the appearance that they were molded into the body of the shell (if you're starting to feel me, then you're tearing up already. I am). Each one in a line, almost the shape of a question mark (beautiful- just..yea).
We are all oysters, but not food. Although there are many species of mammals that are much larger and more instinctually lethal than we are. Nature and those that study these things (the name escapes me) regard us as the Apex Predators. The likeness I am seeing is that by instinct, oysters make pearls. Pearls of course are regarded as something we assign monetary value to. They are beautiful gifts to those we Love both romantically and philanthropically, as this piece of jewelry is. A woman feels Love coming from a man giving her pearls, they have that value. But see...US? We do this by trait and choice. We make our pearls and give them by CHOICE, not instinct (would it be instinctual, we would be closer to our Maker than we think). Oysters are not tagged as something we make intricate studies into because they are not popularly interesting to our minds, mostly our appetites (I wonder if we not knowingly see other humans in the same way, think about it a bit then read on). Back to the instinctual creature of delicacy: I found out that when this happens, it actually begins to crowd the inside of the shell. Making the essential vital processes harder and harder. Slowly inhibiting the quality of physical life (are you following? Connect here, please). The more pearls that are 'aborted' the closer this creature comes to death ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ (take a moment, a long pause and realize what is being said. For those not able to follow, the explanation is coming).
What are pearls symbolic of? Popularly wisdom. (I knew a girl once that meant more to me than she knows. Her name meant wisdom...thats also another story, of which I have already written the ending to :)). So in a metaphorical sense we can gather philosophically that we let wisdom die in us if we choose (we are not altogether creatures of instinct alone). Someone might not be allowed a better quality of life should we keep the things inside that we should be saying (speaking of, I have someone I need to be texting right now).
Aside from that and no further metaphors, I'll say this- pearls also resemble natural beauty. This 'beauty' starts as sand (hmmm, some say that's the way we started too). And over long periods of time are formed by these beautiful creatures into these beautiful gifts that adorn our Loved ones. Essentially contributing to their 'beauty' as well. Great toil and grit, taking months of labor sometimes years, produce these CAPTIVATING pieces. I mean, have you ever looked closely at a pearl? Held it close to your eyes until all other things are unfocused? (I do, everyday). They are Precious! Have you ever taken the time to appreciate this little food item's hard work to bring you something so gorgeous? It's mesmerizing, and you dont even have to be high on anything.
---YOU, are that oyster. And the beauty inside you are these pearls which you 'hide away' from whom they are intended to adorn. Why? Because we're inperfect. Because they are not 'finished' yet. You keep them inside you because even though life has given you sand and you have toiled the sand into pre-deposited pearls, you feel they aren't ready to be seen yet. And that in some cases is fine. But the world as we have come to be open to doesn't need more perfection. We need no more Supermen or Saviors of humanity. We already have one. Apart from popular opinion, we need to see more open imperfection, because we are all dying. We are all facing that one certain thing, death. But what you and I don't realize is that we start one work inside ourselves and stop. Then another, and another. None of them finished to our liking so we let them stack up forming that question mark. The question all of us have asked ourselves in that dark closet, " Why are we here? Why am I here?" The question only grows by each aborted beautiful thing we form inside ourselves, piece by piece. Taking us further from answering that question. Not realizing they are now so many that they are making our lives impossible to live. Non-purged beauty. Not realizing they are, quite tragically, killing us. And...no...one...knows, not even ourselves (take another pause, please).
The answer to that question of existence, is allowing those unfinished works to be seen. Letting the masks we wear in all communities fall off and revealing to each other the real, torn, flawed, broken and helpless 'you'. (I feel SO MUCH Love for the human race right now. SO many that carry pain. SO many helpless...it pains my heart to SUCH deep sorrow..this might be how He felt at the end).
I beg you, I BEG you- All of you imperfect souls, wear your imperfection like summer clothing. In the summer, you intend to be noticed, you intend to be seen. So instead of wearing what makes you look so good, so put together, (which in turn builds higher that unseen wall that separates us all), wear the unfinished work on the outside. Do you remember seeing something like this? This piece of jewelry that is so unique because its so rare BECAUSE it gives you a picture of the production of adornement. Of what it took to get to 'beautiful'. WEAR EACH OTHER!!! You're SO beautiful, all of you. Your sadness and pain is the beauty that you are dying from. Choose to live and let it be seen. The openness is your alchemy and the answer to us all.
Finally, in a whisper: I know I promised pictures, but you need none. Just go look in the mirror and you'll see what I see, what He sees, what we all need to see. The allegorically-cut you. Do not let beauty (imperfection) die inside you. Do not continue to hide. Do not let the unfinished pearls bring about your death. Show yourself to save your own lives. And lean back and watch it save the lives of many. YOU...matter...to EVERYONE.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Monday, June 18, 2012
A night turns to light before sunrise in some tall town, in some thought in the apex of idealism. Dew setting on sleeping crysaline grass waving featherly as if the breeze flowing over them causes them to breathe. Each step, each movement sprinkling our shoes and pant cuffs making all the color in contact become that deeper shade. Like painting in a wet on wet technique. Walking in the shallows, stumbling and balancing along imaginary fences and rail road ties as if on the edge of adulthood before the plunge into normality. Walking with my favorite written personification. Feeling is the canvas of this day. The ability to dream like a passport. The only way to walk here and now.
Auburn colored leaves with edges stained in red in semi-stunted trees glue-sticked across the landscape close to each other. Enough that their leaves speckle the pre-sun day if you were crouching infront of them. Or in a night sky hide the more lucid parts of constellations, like a stellar peepshow. Across the slender roll of the hill down to the pond are a litter of gray rock, no more tall than hobbit holes. Grass trails leading away from each in multiple directions as if they were inhabited for years. The pond, so subtle. Like an infinity factory of sheer soft skin. As if we could lay aside our clothes and risk the brisk chill and be reborn. The ribbonless water mirror imaging the waterbugs, echoing their thoughts across the neverland meadow in forms of crickets and toads. You could almost see back in time from a parallax view, Merlin exchanging common speech with the Lady, taking the sword from her gentle hand. And there they huddled down, all together. The wintered and weathered pair souls. Hen and Heather, Gellhorn and Hemmingway, Thomas and Claire, Val and Ani, looking out at the small'ish pond, morning twilight's chill.
We chose to lay in the meadow lands in that mountain top valley. Wishing it would just rain already. Things should just...be this way. If we could just climb backwards in our skin. Lie here in children's clothes with toys and unpeeled bandaids, french braids and beetle's haircuts- lollippops and Milk Duds. Hold each other in small hands under torn blankets. Just like this. Just like now. And weep all our grown-up pains away into the puddles under the morning grass, the ones that stain our clothes in innocence. We would have that conversation, after the crying, " Does magic really happen?" In a pre-teen boyish manner. Sincere and critical of the possiblity that things imagined actually can happen- They can 'be for reals'. Afterlife, forelife, pre-life are across the way walking slowly, wanting us to notice the delicate details in each of them. The things we never noticed before. Not than anything can be changed, just to appreciate the weaving of the fabric in each path they took and take.
Then it happens, a crack in the sky. A soundless bleet of purest light from the east and over the under shaded trees it comes, the sun. Every color of earth begins to sing their variant radiance. The grey-blue sky lightens its face with swooping strokes from a fan point brush to true blue. The white and grey being cleaned away by one simple thing, far away. Just like what is seen when you ask her to stop squinting her eyes or when she wears dramatic makeup.
Steam dances seductively upward from each stone and blade of grass, sweating off the dew and wet of moss. We take it in like the earths morning smoke break, wetting our noses in makeout sessions with the earth. Discovering each scent, how it tastes and feels. How each scent sounds, heartfully noting the memories spanning our physical random access. Assigning each one a cluster of sensual attributes, displaying talent like an improvisational bartender in a pipe smoke-filled Irish Speak Easy. Just mixing interesting drinks for the future and for now.
No one ever wants it to end. This spectacle has enough emotion to fill the heart of Hades with love for his brothers. And in my mind, it hasn't even begun yet.
Intentions aside, I simply Love this place.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
In eclipses, far off night skies of where we've been. They hold a worth that only lonely souls could ever interpret. The seldom seen but even more rare casting of sincerity. Almost as if something had again made its presence, hidden in Loved one's DNA. Or perhaps a story from posterity of charity that existed along the bloodline of the noble. And a descendant becoming inspired by such a story decides to re-ignite a passion once completely buried in deep and forgotten graves. Ironically remembering to not forget to see...what gift, indeed.
Sunset star-spangled banners wave inside the locks of her hair. The color of sailors fright, but not fright for me..I'm too accustomed to fear to be afraid of anything unknown. That color, for me, is flight towards the shallows of far off beach cities. Where horses still roam free and unbroken by civilized man. The steadiness of her hand over her eyes in that intuitive longing gaze. As if squinting intensely at the most elementary answers to her universe, of which I only conceive a dialect. She is her own skeptic and the truest critic of all her theocratic understanding. Doubting the doubt in herself, knowing she's just simply right. She's learning to be comfortable in the mystery of herself. And I just am...;)
And I already have a history of what she's meant to me. My idealism flies true to what atmosphere I honestly don't know. But the feeling is that it makes me forget..its MAKING me forget...
The idealistic value, shall I examine? Or just live? As I feel like doing, of course- It's like swimming in the great lakes and looking down to see the pale blue water illuminate my body, like I'm floating in pepperment tea. Just feels so cool, being a summer month. Those eyes (my God), those eyes. The only set, besides my Fathers, that I beg myself to look away from. As I see only white, she sees so differently. I feel my mind and heart are such a neglected book in a well visited library that she's come across and been intrigued by. Like a billboard we would pass on a road trip listening to amazing music. (You're such a sultry rock star).
She asks, " Why did you think THAT thought? Not objecting, just curious about it."
" I just don't want to waste time. Being its yours or mine or just- time, it shouldn't be wasted, not ever...with you. Although, wasting time with you is better than spending such moments in any other ambiguity, including saving the world. From a dreamers point of view, I've lived a thousand times this story. And all of them are a sideshow to this main stage 'attraction'. Directly now, do you know what it is that you do to me? I mean, when stars start shining in my pupils in that Panera parking lot, my mind travels to a place not ventured. And sometimes, I becon you to just- join me."
She says, " No- I guess I don't."
" Well, let that be a beginning. But only one..."
A screenplay, then? ;)
Friday, June 8, 2012
There are pictographs...everywhere, in everything. The street signs, the labels in clothing, the posthumous happenstances between man and woman meeting for the millionth time on the street in constant orbit. Think about it, yourself. See if there a few that you watch everyday but let escape you. Now look at the artwork, after staring at them for more than the time you know you can't afford to take. Is there a mural or tapestry that forms in your mind?
And of course, all these are subject to interpretation. Like historic masonry that stands in modern times, they teach us to think freely. Its like.... As if we can afford not to. As if the simple poet in all of us begs us to feed it and let it grow. Loving the simple things, staring at them like paupers in spirit. Maybe with a childish thought that if we paid enough attention to them, they would pay our bills and allow us that physical freedom. Maybe the energy donated brings them to life and gives birth to a longing in them to experience the honor of finally being seen and loved after remaining in the same spot for all our lives, going without such. And that starting an addictive chemistry in their 'fantasaical' minds that causes them to see to making remedy all that keeps us from them so our time and energy continues to be donated, feeding their newly born addiction. What evil and narcisistic stuff, that any human would knowingly or not spread the virus of our eternal sickness of want, addictive want. Sometimes like these, I realize what a low thing it can be to be a man with my abilities, just pitiful. Luckily its only a fiction. One that can never be excercised outside of Alice's rabbit hole. Not that any simple things there are still innocent. And its also lucky that I am fiction as well. Given enough time, no one will ever know I existed. And so, we must bury deep our persistently logical minds of do's and dont's, separative mindsets and stupid knowledge. Deep, deep into the simple things. So what grows toward the new sun after the time has passed and we are gone tastes like- legend. But only to the explorer of our future world, and the children whom still realize that simple sugars..? Taste good.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
I don't want to sit down and write. The fear is I'll continue. And no, this isn't Your write, my Precious friend :), its a venting in a moment that will soon fly away from me.
I am on an edge of the deep pain of lo..lo..lo..love (?) that I can't have. And the outcome of falling is to put to death my heart and emotion. My mind will cause my body to live, make altruistic choices and live virtuously, with or without..but to feel anything will become amiss. Buried dead in a deep grave, unmarked...as if putting away an important item I never desired to be lost, but meant to in the end. You, my Friend, know what I mean.
I leave myself where I know I left that Love the first time Love had to go... I..am...broken
Monday, May 28, 2012
I've already felt that my wings have been cut, or removed altogether. Drawing on my body to replace what I could never earn by merit. These colored black. Having once a seat in front of my Father, doing His biding, never perfectly. Close in a sense of emotional and physical. Its been long since I've allowed myself to return to any corner of that room, if only to catch a glimpse of Him. As if I could sneek into His chambers, as I once did as a child. Crawling into bed with Him, to experience His heartbeat and heavenly warmth...unnoticed.
I replay, re-think and act out the memory with my hands, a dreamy pantomime of history lost long ago. On my back is this one black wing and on my chest are the weights it must bear, as penence for losing the rights of a son...I try so hard to fly back to the place that is still deadeningly familiar. But availing only temporary height from flutters, no more worth than an untied shoelace length to the floor... My wing is strong, but not paired. And I still see kindness shown to me. Not by those that are His, but those of secular persuasion...why? Why do I get spoiled and blessed by these? Is it some chemistry built from knowing the same place? Having once been a part of the inner circle? Maybe a single black wing rests on their back. As is their kindness, to me, a penence for their sins. I share a multitude of covering on top of their version of Love- which would explain the limited height I can reach, or not. She was my last chance at being 'good'. I told her i needed her, she denied the fact. Never seeing the broken man on the inside. Never knowing her intimate Love was nursing my spirit back to life and higher. I have not begun to unwrap this sweet-flavored and freshly bled wine.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Push your Pen!
Blocked in like oceans screaming. To see the bottom of their own depth. Run it dry as if the sun just wont come tomorrow and you are the only one that knows...
Breath and life and even Love means nothing mentioned in the same sentences...as if these moments are drowning in their own mysticism if not drawn viciously from the temporary wells of which they make their home. Fall madly and deeply in Love with her, in a moment. Share its lifetime of fears, terror, tears and dread then drown it all in laughter..then perish..free.
Streaming energy, screaming in light away from temperment. Living only in perilous fire. It rears its dragon head as if the KingFish came to the surface to take a breath of air, its first. Paining water-borne gills, forcing evolution.
The KingFish takes a look around at the surface. Seeing the 'nothing' and all the pale faces, " Why are you so human?!? In your dictionary term being nothing less than a form of a god, aren't you?? So if your god has wings, then why not fly? Why not shoot from the atmosphere in which only gravity keeps you and throw off that humanity? Shake the chains lose and let safety fall to the ground! LIVE, I SAY!!! You were given the gift of lungs and Love and freedom to move, why do you not express it?? As if a fish can have a face. I would rob you of all these simple blessings. Rob you of your lives to feel, just for a moment, the entity of tragedy and bliss your emotions can contain...COME TO LIFE!!!! As if a simple fish with no words to sing or breath to exhale more than my own death. Like Elisha's bones cried out to the retreating fallen soldier, I command you and dare you to LIVE!!!
And the death of the fish comes, wains, as he falls to the side. And with a backwards stare to the depths, whispering, " Live, my brethren...live..."
And it dies...shall we, then?
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Leaving the room I felt the shudder of wind from entities moving around in close proximity- She was standing behind me the instant I turned around to leave the room. Her hands walked around from my lower back to the crest of my hips and pressed toward my navel and below. Feeling the heat from her fevered body so close to me. Just stopping to let her have her way. Holding still enough to feel the pulse in her fingers and the slight tremble of her hands as she closed the gap between us, facing in the same direction. The mystery of it all only what was not seen by my physical eyes. I always hardly knew what she was playing as she whispered, " I know what you like..." Ugh, she knew always. Pushing up, dragging her fingers from my under belly. Each move coursing that strange energy in a sideways motion, making my core shudder. She grabs the hem of my shirt in crumples. Her fingernails clipping my sides bringing the energetic tremble headward in crescendoing ecstacy. My shirt comes up, and off. " Want this, right?" My mind now out of the slightest bit of control. Going from 'nuture' to emergency sensual overdrive. Melted. Dissipated by the heat sheeting off of her. She kissed and cooed as I reasoned, " Hon...Honey. Need to rest, babe, uh....ugh, ahh... Baby? ...you're so not listening to me..." " F*** no, I'm not," whispering still. Pressing her breasts against my newly exposed back. Pressing her lips to my skin like a raindrop tumbling down a stem and kissing the earth below it, again and again. " Thought you said you'd never deny me?" Of course I wouldn't. I looked out to the twilight, the post rush hour parking lot. Leaning back slightly into her. Reaching up and behind me, threading my fingers into her left hand that was caressing the short hairs just above my neck. Fondling the twirl. Threading her right hand and leaning further backwards into her. She pulled at me tightly, as often she did when she wanted to. Like used scraps of clay into a pugmill, she was tearing me apart and pressing me back together. Making parts fit that I never knew should go. A whole new meaning to beautiful to me. I unlinked one hand from her and spun around, knocking my cap to the floor. She stepped back. Restricting the view my body had of her to let my eyes in for a tease. I raked down her back with slightly forceful tension. Watching her face closely as she rippled the stroke outwardly and vocally. Closing her eyes while biting the left side of her lower lip. Letting go of her breath in a breezy shutter. I reached the bottom of the stroke, her eyes fluttered open. She reached from chocolate covered iris to hold the back of my thought in her gaze. I pulled her in and kissed her eyes, brushing her nose with the bridge of mine. Pulling with my hand wrapped around her lower back, I moved her closer closing the gap the second and final time. My other hand found a blanket folded on a nearby chair back. Letting it fall around her with both hands, enveloping her body. Dimming the light in the room, hiding her glow. I layed her down, tucked her in and nutured her closely, for the rest of our evening.