The Sound. (Part 3)

I tripped over my own shoelace while I wondered what you were staring at. And it made me frustrated at the time that you didn't say anything, but only now do I realize you were trying to tell me with your eyes.

And talking without listening is a way to say you remember the past instead of hearing me now. Because losing that small anchor you had means that you cannot go back, even when you know the truth.
The places and people and things, all these proper nouns (now-ns) you hold in your heart, are long gone outside of you. Everything you have seen will live in you for as long as you have loved it and continue to do so. You cannot be lost from it. Not ever.

But it seems that no matter how far across the world I reach, you will keep looking at something else, at some other warning sign. And still, even in this isolation, I hope you feel all the warmth I have for you. I want you to do and get the best.

I hope, someday in a fairly distant future, I may be allowed to speak at your wake or throw dirt on your coffin. And then I will know how just peacefully you rest.

Originally performed on 1/27/11

Originally written on 3/29/09

The Size. (Part 2 of 3)

I run into this kind of problem all the time. I cannot sleep at night because I oversleep in the morning. Or perhaps vise versa.
The silence shared with one person is screaming about sadness while a loud concert with someone else is so peaceful.

It's just the little things you have to really watch for, all of them can speak in echos that count frequencies in the thousands and depths that no one has the strength to see. The way you can miss someone so new to your life or feel the way a memory plays out even when the sensation has passed.

These are just the small parts that speak so loudly. So when your eyes splinter your vision into a million sights and chairs become mountains, you'll learn to navigate your way to the shore and calm yourself before walking away again.

Originally performed on 1/27/11

Originally written on 3/29/09

The Shape. (Part 1 of 3)

There is something clear to me.
Part of it is that you haven't gotten it yet.
Another part is that I see that you're not ready to, but you want it.
I wonder if you have this clarity in a different way, though. Like seeing what you know I'm not ready to see.
It is a shame this misunderstanding is actually an inability to communicate something so subtle and so obvious.

When it comes to it, there are feelings and motions that I cannot begin to narrate so I make do with what I can. In the meantime, I hope that someone will pick up on the subtext of it all.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want to know telepathy. I want to speak in measures and notes and heartstrings. I wish you could feel what I am feeling because I think it would mean so much more that way.

Originally performed on 1/27/11

Originally written on 3/29/09

common knowledge

I am mining in my history to find that simple nugget I can sell to someone. Perhaps I can just keep trading up and find something worth a lifetime of searching. It doesn't have to mean a thing to anyone else other than me, so when I find it, I'll know.

But until then, I've just been looking at what I've done. I hope that I can uncover something that was accidentally great or subtly indicative of genius. I'll bring it out into the light and expand upon it. Or maybe just show it off to people who haven't seen anything like it before.

The truth is, I won't find silver or diamonds in my history, only rackety old buildings filled with dust. In all reality, and all realities, those places are abandoned for a reason. One cannot create a masterpiece by piecing together one's individual failures. The past can only teach you, it cannot build you.

There is no possible way to make gold out of cobwebs.


Originally performed 1/13/11
Originally written on 10/12/08

Still Life

An edit of this. Feedback is thoroughly encouraged. Criticism extremely welcome.

Eons have passed since we walked through that green maze to bronze fields.
Yet I have visited our park so many times in my thoughts,
with the heaviness of death hiding so close to my heart,
it would seem as though it was only yesterday since we were walking side by side.

With open eyes and bare feet,
the music of the air spilled into our ears
and we swayed like stalks of wheat.

Under the blue autumn sky,
I can still hear all of the words you ever spoke
echoing through the blades of grass.

We were not silent then;
we were not patient
and there was no need to be, either.
Our souls touched and grew inside one another.

I can only dig down so far
to find where there is a difference between us.
It would not matter if you lived in any other place,
if I could not see you with my eyes.
We were born to meet each other and live to learn.
(Perhaps if we had never met I may have died?
What about you?)

If my legs could carry me,
I would run.
If you could open your mouth,
you would conduct symphonies.

It was so simple for us.
We were creating worlds by discovering what already existed.
We were flourishing in the void.
We were making peace by not needing one another.

My only fears for you are that fear would get in the way of any life worth living.
That something could paralyze you beyond ever
understanding or experiencing the most necessary affairs.

Waves passed and oceans flew,
time churned and next thing I knew
you were walking away from me.

The crisp air hit my lungs and I decided this wouldn't be when I chased after anyone.
I was tired of walking so far North
that I forgot where the beach lay.
When I was at your place
I never knew which way was home.
I got so comfortable in your bed
I began to dislike my own skin.

Four years ago I might not have known any better,
but four years from now I might say the same thing.

I take a deep breath and plunge in.

---maybe I'll find you after all.

affirmation/prayer/love

Know that you are beautiful and wonderful;
nothing could ever hurt you or harm you.
You will win out in the end,
with that triumph in your chest
and a gleam in your eye.
There isn't a single soul that could stand in your way
or anyone that can waste your time of day:
you choose what you see
you gain what you need to learn.

Know these truths and be free
smile and live happily.

The Only Certainty...

...in this life, is that it will end. Every other concept is up to you to perceive.

It was only yesterday that we walked across bronze fields with open eyes and bare feet. The music of the air spilled into our ears and we swayed like stalks of wheat. Our souls touched and grew inside one another. I can only dig so far down deep to find where there is a difference between us. It would not matter if you lived in any other place, if I could not see you with my eyes. We were born to meet each other and live to learn. My only fears for you are that fear would get in the way of any life we could live.

Yet I have visited our park so many times in my thoughts, with the heaviness of death hiding so close to my heart. Four years ago I might not have known any better, but four years from now I might say the same thing. (Perhaps if we had never met I may have died? What about you?) Even under the blue autumn sky, I can hear all of the words you ever spoke echoing through the grass. We were not silent then, we were not patient and there was no need to be, either. If my legs could carry me, I would run. If you could open your mouth, you would conduct symphonies. It was so simple for us. We were making peace by not needing one another.

Waves passed and oceans flew, time churned and next thing I knew you were walking away from me. The crisp air hit my lungs and I decided this wouldn't be when I chased after anyone. I was tired of walking so far North that I forgot where the beach lay. When I was at your place I never knew which way was home. I got so comfortable in your bed I began to dislike my own skin. I take a deep breath and plunge in---maybe I'll find you after all.

Cold Goodbye (The End of a Chapter)

Everything has a piece of you that I love(d) waiting to sneak up on me.

And it feels like I did when I stumbled upon that empty village;
when we walked into that cold apartment
with a breeze that came in through the floor
even with the windows sealed shut.

I know because it's like walking in on yourself
as you look over old, broken memories.
And look, that's where I held your hand,
and that's where I fell for you all over again
and that's when we did, and we felt, and we were.

Looking back on it, the barrel of tears in my throat can't seem to say enough.
Just a washing of waves through the grains that were once mighty stones.
A harsh light on the silent night walls of buildings.
The cloudy air of the coast,
the unrelenting roar of waves,
the disappearing horizon line.
Just a quiet surrender of the giants to the fall,
a whispered goodbye to someone and something
long gone
and faded.

Inspired by the track "Zerthis was a Shivering Human Image" by Eluvium, urgency, reminiscence, longing, and a strange sense of happirness.

You Don't Even Have To Wait*

We are walking without crutches and without bandages.
You are going to see these wounds as they are and you will take notice of how I can heal them. We are moving at lightning speed to a greater understanding and my arms are waving through the air to feel the push and pull of the tides. Look at me, I am walking on my own. Feel free to get out your camera and talk about it in a sweet voice, but I am not doing this for you. I have had a taste of freedom and I am ready to feel the rush of wind in my hair once again. Keep your pills and your support beams for your other friends, I am something else in the running. I will be showing off my new bruises and scars in no time.
I will move faster than anyone has before.
I will take you by force.
We are walking without a crutch.
We are moving without your bandages.
I wear these faults as battle scars and I am not afraid.


*Placeholder of a better title. From "Let the Drummer Kick" by Citizen Cope.
Inspired by a phone conversation with a close friend.

Reflection

He is my Ganesh
And together we are painting the walls blue.
The color of clarity.
Instead of knocking down the walls entirely,
but still recreating the sky no one else can see.
This is about the brevity of sainthood,
or the fear of happiness.
Because the questions we're asking aren't:
"What could you lose?"
or "what will you gain?"
But more of a quiet: "What could you possibly be missing?"
I need not so much a smile
as I need a gentle nod.
Just enough reassurance to move forward
without the push of a stroked ego.

Fishbowl/Flushed.

Goodbye, you beauty.
I won't forget you for a long time.

Goodbye, my own.
I am ready to lose you any minute, and still I will miss you when you're gone.

Goodbye, dearest.
I hope I never replace you.


I can't help but wonder, what is it like to drown in your own ashes.
I wish you were here.