An Order of Magnitude

 

 

To bind the muse, to allow

The distant vibrations to focus

To bring local what was

Absent

How would such exquisite sensibility

Such unencumbered and

Expansive

Motivation to create

Oil pigment pushed and spilt on

Linen stretched

Compressed carbon scratched and rubbed

Rough paper embracing

And capturing the souls within

Without

and forever

How would that manifest

From within and through

A beauty already

Well and perfectly defined

What would the product be of such

Breathtaking

Mind numbing elegance

Blurring the difference

Sight and sound

Between here and

Now

The product of such luscious

Splendor

Can only ever be

(impossibly)

More beautiful

It’s magnificence doubled

Trebled

An order of magnitude

Beyond

Imagination

It Could Have Been

 

 

My father once told me that if you keep pushing

Your thoughts and dreams off until tomorrow

Putting off doing what you want or know you should do

You will end up with a pile of useless yesterdays

Empty, and meaningless things

and I think about him, about the future when I am

thinking about myself and today

Or thinking about you

And I see a pile of yesterdays

Empty, and meaningless things

But I have no plans that seem important enough

I think to myself

I think to myself that tomorrow is really

Close enough

But it’s not says my father in the echoes of my dreams

You are just too afraid of today

Because it requires doing

Not dreaming

And no one fails from dreaming

I think of what could have been

If I did instead

Of dreamt

My father would say

It could have been

Today

And I wake up and I go out

To do

Instead

Of dream.

What is Important

In the end we do what is important

That is all that we can ever do

No amount of plans and actions

Can stop that from being true

 

It was an indifferent moment that described twenty years

Not much more than an afterthought, really, as it was said

During that brief time when an idea starts and then forms

But is not much more than concept in her head

 

“If you loved me…” and then the requirement is attached

As if there is always a need to conditionalize the feeling

With demands and deliverables and due dates and, and…

Reasons that make no sense but leave the mind reeling

 

In the end we do what is important

That is all that we can ever do

No amount of plans and actions

Can stop that from being true

 

“I don’t love you. I used to. I don’t love you now.”

A blaring siren and red lights behind desperately closed eyes

If ears were as compliant, the shades would be drawn there too

In that flashbulb moment, though, it came as no surprise…

 

It was a wrenching, violent emotion that laid it bare, this

Idea that we are, now, nothing like what we once were

When what we once were was nothing more than an idea

And even then, something about it made us unsure

 

Simply and quietly we lived and waited for time to pass,

We were living our lives in the only way that we knew

Forgetting and missing and leaving questions unasked

About who we were and what it was we were going to do

 

In the end we do what is important

That is all that we can ever do"

No amount of plans and actions

Can stop that from being true

In the end we do what is important

Whether we know that now…or never, ever do

They Always Get Made

 

 

In the pantheon of ideas and dreams that fill our heads

A cacophony of competing thoughts that drown out reason and time

A music-like humming; the general operation of our soul goes on

Under the covers, under the radar…under the guise of thinking it’s fine.

 

Reality is a picture locked forever into the paper it’s printed on

Reality isn’t now, it’s…then, just then, a split second in the past

So it can’t be thought of as something to be controlled or managed

It is always the right question…5 seconds after it was asked

 

I’ve learned this about reality, this picture that exists as a curse

The lessons are there to learn, to read and feel down in your bones

But they need to stay there; exiting in their own time and place

Like small creatures living amongst the sticks, dirt and stones

 

Learn the lesson and throw the experience away; experiences exist in time

And time is nowhere to live when today, this minute stares at us intently

Stares like a dog waiting for dinner…(it’s in the bowl in our hands)

All that is left for the hungry pup, then, is for us to put it on the floor gently

 

Everything we do is meant by us (whether we know or care)…we choose our course

Automatic things; choices were made years ago, now we’re simply hitting replay

Consciously, subconsciously…no difference to the decisions we make

We’re making them …we can’t stop making them…and they always get made

 

They always get made

Yes, yes, they always get made.

 

You are the best person you can be, you have no choice about that; it’s natural

And you want to protect body and soul from pain, from danger, from hurt…

Life is what you strive to reach, to open yourself up to and accept without question

But it’s not something that you can buy, put on and take off like a shirt

 

It’s logical; our natural state is happiness and “thinking” is how we get to be so sad

To be ill and uncomfortable, insecure and scared that the life we live is wrong

We need to stop thinking: attaching meaning based on arbitrary knowledge from our past

And accept reality without preconception…stop changing the words of the song

 

Making choices is what we do, making them toward saving ourselves is what we do as well

Every day, every minute, unintentional, unaware, we make them toward staying whole

Moving forward in the world we create but it’s a laugh as reality doesn’t know or care

Like the hungry dog knows, without seeing or smelling, exactly what’s in the bowl…

 

Earth hurdles through space, an unfeeling rock occasionally warm, sometimes cold

Teeming with people across its face all trying to live…to love…to feel this “life” force

We need to look outside ourselves and create care, help and comfort in this world

That is the best and only way to create those things so that they can live inside us

 

Everything we do is meant by us (whether we know or care)…we choose our course

Automatic things; choices were made years ago, now we’re simply hitting replay

Consciously, subconsciously…no difference to the decisions we make

We’re making them …we can’t stop making them…and they always get made

 

They always get made

Yes, yes, they always get made.

 

Finally, at the end of the game will we really know any more than when we started?

Should we even care that there was ever any difference worth writing down?

We’ll die, the earth will turn and stars will shine and people will forget and time…

Will go on for the billions left and they too will go round and round and round.

 

At the end there is no “finally” except for us, for our thoughts (but not for reality)

Reality will go on and even if time itself stops…that, in fact, is reality too

Our choice to help others is making the choice to help ourselves

Realizing that selfless “selfishness” can be the only honorable thing to do

 

Everything we do is meant by us (whether we know or care)…we choose our course

Automatic things; choices were made years ago, now we’re simply hitting replay

Consciously, subconsciously…no difference to the decisions we make

We’re making them …we can’t stop making them…and they always get made

 

They always get made

Yes, yes, they always get made.

 

A Reply to The Void

 

 

She sits in front of me seeing no one

Not me, not herself

Sees her breath on the cold

Empty wind

Sees a future that casts no shadow

Sees

But can’t see what she’s looking for

 

She sits in front of me thinking of someone

She imagines had a dream

That formed in his dreams

That wrapped around her

Looking

At what she can’t see

Anymore

 

She sits in front of me looking past me

Looking past the dark

Emptiness of…no…looking at

The dark emptiness

Feeling it envelope and control

And breath and sing her praises

 

She sits in front of me

Me; love

And she looks past me

Thinking about a dream

She had, a dream she no longer dreams

Taken away she thinks

No

She freely gave it away

 

She sits

In front of me

Seeing

No

One.

Running Out

 

 

The first thing I do,

When the alarm yanks me forcibly

From where I was, is think that I do not,

Do not,

Do not…want to go running.

The second thing

I do,

Is go running.

And beside me are running ideas,

Dreams and wishes…thoughts

Within me,

Ahead of me.

Where am I going today…but

Not “where” where, where am I really

Going?

Today; I will sell lies

To buy the truth

Tomorrow…

I don’t know.

I don’t think I can run that far.

The sun is out behind the city, waiting

For me.

Waiting for something.

Because I say “I don’t” or ”I can’t”

Makes me…”not” either

I know,

I can.

Running is better when you know

You can.

POV

 

 

The story unfolds, an origami swan

Slowly opening on white linen

On the table in the dining room

Flower petals

Or a sailboat

Or a frog

Unfolded it can be anything

Follow the crease lines

Finger lightly skimming

Trace the map of existence

The story unfolds

The book lays open, spine up

A page

A line

Read without context

A different point of view

From the same words

The same folds

The same

Time

Regret Paints Our Past

Regret is the strongest of all the oceans

lapping constantly against the shores of our
past

eroding and destroying by the smallest amounts

eventually erasing all we thought would last.

 

Acceptance is the
ability to look at the water

to know it’s cool depths
and possibilities

to breath deep, jump in
and start swimming

strong,
confident…reaching forward effortlessly

 

Regret is the failure to accept reality

an enduring and unchanging picture

we imagine it a film to be re-edited

a film without benefit of fixture

 

Acceptance removes the
veil from our eyes

drops filters, brings
down the walls

allows us to see what is
real and before us

to hear the sound when
the universe calls

 

Regret is…and regret
does…

the things we fear the
most

acceptance takes an
opposite role;

the spirit in our ghost

 

Regret paints our past with drab colors

unhappy, brooding, dark and cold

making us remember life as glances

blurred and graying and just…old

 

Acceptance is the
rainbow after the rain

multi-frequency,
ionized, electric air

creating vibrancy where
there was nothing

making us see only what
is there

 

Regret is a pebble in our shoe

our memories wear to walk this road

it is a constant and painful reminder

what we live with; how far we have to go

 

Acceptance becomes the
pebble

which becomes our feet,
becomes our shoe

and we only feel the
freedom of walking

because

in the end

that is what

we all

must

do.

Happy Today

More than anything is a way of saying
That what I have is less than what I need
But not in my dreams
Not in my dreams
You are there and here and you never leave

Why am I faced with this continual sadness
When today is all that I’ll ever need
And today is OK
Today is OK and I’m happy today
But the sadness has become my philosophy

I’ve said goodbye and goodbye and goodbye
I don’t want to say goodbye ever again…

Seeing what happens when I try to be something
Or someone like me who tries to just be
For sadness is me now
Sadness is me now
Life has no value when everything‘s free

I’ve said goodbye and goodbye and goodbye
I don’t want to say goodbye ever again…

Saying goodbye on the back of a napkin
Waiting for people who will never arrive
But is it a dream?
Is it a dream?
Where am I and am I actually still alive?

Well, back to the beginning…

I haven’t added anything to this place for a while and I’m thinking that I should. Well, I should just to keep in practice. I like writing and if I don’t write everyday, in as many different ways as possible, then I’ll get creaky and start sucking more than I already do.

Make sense? No? OK, it does to me and it’s my blog.

arm-band-tattoo-29670 

I’m thinking of getting a tattoo…maybe something like this…

…um, maybe not…

Later, bud.