Claim the land in your name,
do not let him have the road.
Occupy your town with your grace,
even if you never leave your room.
How can a man take care of property,
if he cannot take care of the misery
in his mind?
Allow everyone to laugh out loud as you
bump your heads together, thanking things
for being as they are.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Postcard to Walt Whitman (Summer 2009?)
Dear Walt Whitman,
If only you could see how great things have become. Thank you for your works, but we didn't need to know about all of that. You never seemed to mention where you'd expect to be after all your inspiration ended and then maybe you'd take up gardening?
I'm sure you'd remain happy no matter what the outcome. Could you share a little more the instructions for obtaining such peace? Please be sure to knock down that bridge that blocks us from achieving our dreams.
-M
If only you could see how great things have become. Thank you for your works, but we didn't need to know about all of that. You never seemed to mention where you'd expect to be after all your inspiration ended and then maybe you'd take up gardening?
I'm sure you'd remain happy no matter what the outcome. Could you share a little more the instructions for obtaining such peace? Please be sure to knock down that bridge that blocks us from achieving our dreams.
-M
Monday, March 22, 2010
Some Days it is so difficult. (11-29-09)
Some days it is so difficult to find the sun within me. Denial rejects ever knowing the name of fire, and the mind is easily tempted to gamble everything away.
It becomes so hard to find the strength to wrestle this beast to the ground, demanding and proclaiming the vow of poets that true love is the only tongue you speak.
Sometimes a forgetful mind will misplace the records of wisdom that give it the will to embrace the day. It must rely on blind faith found in companions' arms, praying through love till the night becomes day, and this dark moment can surface to light, finding its way home.
In fillers of newspaper ads, one can find the words of heroes and stars. In paper, we can find the tears of a beast and the jewel in its heart.
It becomes so hard to find the strength to wrestle this beast to the ground, demanding and proclaiming the vow of poets that true love is the only tongue you speak.
Sometimes a forgetful mind will misplace the records of wisdom that give it the will to embrace the day. It must rely on blind faith found in companions' arms, praying through love till the night becomes day, and this dark moment can surface to light, finding its way home.
In fillers of newspaper ads, one can find the words of heroes and stars. In paper, we can find the tears of a beast and the jewel in its heart.
Monday, March 15, 2010
(1-24-2010)
Songbird, teach me the nature of freedom.
Teach me of the wild dance I never knew.
I ask you to deliver me lightly into the
peace of openness, and not through
a gateway of despair.
Deliver the innocent monk from the cage
of his abbey, and show the hermit
a glow greater than candlelight.
And in your journey through the
wild night, reaching the day through song,
bring the heart along; kissing his
forehead in grace and thanks,
before he falls asleep.
Teach me of the wild dance I never knew.
I ask you to deliver me lightly into the
peace of openness, and not through
a gateway of despair.
Deliver the innocent monk from the cage
of his abbey, and show the hermit
a glow greater than candlelight.
And in your journey through the
wild night, reaching the day through song,
bring the heart along; kissing his
forehead in grace and thanks,
before he falls asleep.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
(3-14-2010)
The fire your heart was burning is
not what you typically see.
Could you tell ahead of time there would
be such power in your practice, or
did you know this time you couldn't
do all the work, and the world would
embrace you instead?
It was love you were receiving when
you opened up your heart,
and you knew this.
Remember, how you got up to say,
"This is truly how I feel,"
while you take all the earned consequences.
not what you typically see.
Could you tell ahead of time there would
be such power in your practice, or
did you know this time you couldn't
do all the work, and the world would
embrace you instead?
It was love you were receiving when
you opened up your heart,
and you knew this.
Remember, how you got up to say,
"This is truly how I feel,"
while you take all the earned consequences.
Saturday, March 06, 2010
Till we meet again my friend. (Short Story, 3-5-10)
The best friend walked up to the person who makes his title possible. It has been months. Why the silence? Nothing about it made sense.
I miss you.
I can tell.
How so?
You just told me.
Oh, I guess you're right. So why all this?
Why all what?
This silence?
What do you mean? I'm talking to you right now.
Well, yes. I guess you're right. But we haven't talked in months.
Does that bother you?
Yes! Yes it does.
Well, I'm sorry.
Don't you want to know why?
Do you want me to know?
We're best friends!
What's on your mind?
Oh, so now you want to know?
Yes, yes I do.
It bothers me because best friends are suppose to be in communication with each other.
I don't see the problem.
What's keeping you from me?
Why are you judging me?
I'm paranoid that you think badly of me.
What makes you think that?
I make me think that!
You're too hard on yourself.
I see that.
Don't judge me.
I'll try not to. I guess I'm not too good at this.
You're doing just fine.
What make you say that?
You're doing what you know how to do. What could be wrong with that?
When it comes to making a fool of myself? I think I could make you a list of reasons.
There's no need. I understand what you intended.
You're so understanding.
I don't want to brag about it.
And modest.
Lets just focus on one thing at a time.
We'll start with humility.
We'll start with being happy.
Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got a lot to do today.
No problem. I'll just catch you later.
Till we meet again!
Till we meet again my friend.
I miss you.
I can tell.
How so?
You just told me.
Oh, I guess you're right. So why all this?
Why all what?
This silence?
What do you mean? I'm talking to you right now.
Well, yes. I guess you're right. But we haven't talked in months.
Does that bother you?
Yes! Yes it does.
Well, I'm sorry.
Don't you want to know why?
Do you want me to know?
We're best friends!
What's on your mind?
Oh, so now you want to know?
Yes, yes I do.
It bothers me because best friends are suppose to be in communication with each other.
I don't see the problem.
What's keeping you from me?
Why are you judging me?
I'm paranoid that you think badly of me.
What makes you think that?
I make me think that!
You're too hard on yourself.
I see that.
Don't judge me.
I'll try not to. I guess I'm not too good at this.
You're doing just fine.
What make you say that?
You're doing what you know how to do. What could be wrong with that?
When it comes to making a fool of myself? I think I could make you a list of reasons.
There's no need. I understand what you intended.
You're so understanding.
I don't want to brag about it.
And modest.
Lets just focus on one thing at a time.
We'll start with humility.
We'll start with being happy.
Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got a lot to do today.
No problem. I'll just catch you later.
Till we meet again!
Till we meet again my friend.
Thursday, March 04, 2010
It was only a dream (A short story-poem 3-3-2010)
It wasn't real, it was only a dream; but it reminded me none the less of my body, laying in the day warm water as the air vent passed through the shower curtain, imitating as if it belonged to summer.
It was a dream; but a romantic dream that created fiction, inspired from human loneliness. I thought of days when the brush of someones body, or attention of another could satisfy weeks of high romance, and the mind could survive suffering in fantasy.
It made up a story of a broken hearted girl, who believed she'd never be loved for who she was; yet she lived her life, while he found her instead; giving her the love she surrendered asking for. He kissed her in his car as it rained outside. The overtone of grey was bright enough to call it day and not a gloomy disappointment to his kiss. She no longer felt the need to hide how she enjoyed grey-skied days, as though intuitively she knew they'd would be with her, delivering her to a moment where she'd be telling herself 'I belong here, I've earned this, I deserve this.'
She took the moment and ate the abundant love, and took the consequences that it brought even if the dream didn't last the rest of her life. Her heart was cast over everything she knew, and she had workers who would sweep the entrance of its home. If her love didn't wake in the morning, there was the guarantee of the sun, or the clouds, or the sky. Her heart was cast over everything she knew. She was strong and knew how to receive the romance she constantly desired.
What made his kiss alive was that he also greeted the sun, and he practiced loving her, with or without reasons.
It wasn't real, it was only a dream, but it reminded me of myself none the less.
It was a dream; but a romantic dream that created fiction, inspired from human loneliness. I thought of days when the brush of someones body, or attention of another could satisfy weeks of high romance, and the mind could survive suffering in fantasy.
It made up a story of a broken hearted girl, who believed she'd never be loved for who she was; yet she lived her life, while he found her instead; giving her the love she surrendered asking for. He kissed her in his car as it rained outside. The overtone of grey was bright enough to call it day and not a gloomy disappointment to his kiss. She no longer felt the need to hide how she enjoyed grey-skied days, as though intuitively she knew they'd would be with her, delivering her to a moment where she'd be telling herself 'I belong here, I've earned this, I deserve this.'
She took the moment and ate the abundant love, and took the consequences that it brought even if the dream didn't last the rest of her life. Her heart was cast over everything she knew, and she had workers who would sweep the entrance of its home. If her love didn't wake in the morning, there was the guarantee of the sun, or the clouds, or the sky. Her heart was cast over everything she knew. She was strong and knew how to receive the romance she constantly desired.
What made his kiss alive was that he also greeted the sun, and he practiced loving her, with or without reasons.
It wasn't real, it was only a dream, but it reminded me of myself none the less.
Vow Today...(August 2009)
Vow today that you'll demand something deeper of yourself, where your heart opens wide for the collision of your mind, into the darkness of forgotten passion. Thirst for this union and intimacy; hunger for life. Run wildly into the depths of your being, celebrating you, and I, and them, and those no longer; and delight in this madness of falling apart. Create this passion to share; and lend your heart for an hour or two till the sun goes down, and the stars come out, and the joy you experience floods the tears you’ve been hiding. Love this fragile being, and forgive all his nightmares and false dreams. Park the critic on an incline, and forget about using an emergency break. Love me, and love yourself while you're doing this. Vow to be happy and bring happiness to others and delight in the actions of service. Find your heart in the depths of my own, and cherish all that is.
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
(3-1-2010)
Pride in our emotions is as
familiar to us as our name.
Inflexible declarations, of how we
become ourselves, won't salvage grace
or beauty in the war for independence.
Only memories of being a fool; yet a
kind fool, a sincere fool; hold
inspiration during uncertain times.
Only empty company brings us
back to ourselves.
familiar to us as our name.
Inflexible declarations, of how we
become ourselves, won't salvage grace
or beauty in the war for independence.
Only memories of being a fool; yet a
kind fool, a sincere fool; hold
inspiration during uncertain times.
Only empty company brings us
back to ourselves.
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