when you stop waiting
you stop looking
to start seeing
there are no expectations
as the dust settles
around you and makes
a cast of your self now
as you shift and how it crumbles
it is fleeting it is falling as you follow
that train of thought into an empty
hollow when meanings
disintegrate and matter remains
that thuddud of heart that beating shell
when silence and stillness are the
only things that remain.
as the sun slowly sets over the river of gange
and the night gently pulls its cover over the landscape
dogs howl and frogs begin to creek
singing forlorn symphonies into the black
and the moon gently pulls at the earthand the space falls into spot-white stars
shimmering from a place where dreams
often tread over minds like a weave
that keeps them warm
checks up on you like gravity
he provided proof in an utterance,
what mind lies scattered on the grass?
what dreams exploded on the path?
what madness lurked beyond the glass?
Mother, you found him
you found his breathtaking breathless self
still as a stone statue
“stay” we asked and your silence implied
that you could not because
you were out of time
I looked for time in your history
in the things you did and the people you met
they gave me your glittered moments I put them
in a jar they glowed like nightlights
to guide me in the dark
then fizzled into nothing when I had
wandered too far from home
mattness, a stillness that echoes like
a broken television
you wait, far from here
the tide is stretching along the
edge of the ocean, look
at thin water trickling along
minute grains of sand.
This is time, passing along
the shoreline of our souls
look up and ahead and it
is already gone.
I wish that I could fly. I wish that my soul could skim the surface like a pebble chasing water from the sky. I wish that I could understand and communicate, dance as if nobody were watching me but that everyone was listening. I wish that you were listening. That I could live in love with the universe knowing that this is how everything is meant to be. And it is how it is meant to be. That the wind rushing by and the petals that disappear from the sky in the breeze those passing moments this passing time and the gravity upon me like a humble blanket and that ground from which to stand on to believe that this is real. I wish that I could see how the atoms dance in with that gravity, and to capture the joy of each passing moment and to store it in a jar called forever. And to learn from every instant a lesson that will help me step. This is world. It is season. This is beautiful. It is summer. I wish that I could face it and see how the sunshine reflects off the leafs how it travels from the edge of the universe and through the atmosphere. I wish I knew how to step into that bliss of present. Let the world run. Let the universe rush. Let me be.
When all their whispers stuck on me
like webs, and let thoughts crawl over
Now I have taken a step back
and switched my eyes to glass
and they still whisper words that sting
into the night, it seems, everyone is
painting pictures using people as paints
and ears as their canvas.
-what is the art in that?
I have already lost it I am
already broken so
what are you painting for?
I think there was a lesson to learn
I think that this is it.
How can I restructure the
cycles in my mind?
If i must break them first
then where is that
that I can use to crush
thoughts into adaptable pieces?
I dreamt that I was dying that
the spears you held threateningly
finally found their way and
then I was a ghost
crying for the end of the world
trapped as a two-dimensional
image in a printed poster-picture
as the end credits quickly
run across the screen
you wanted water so you cupped your
hands beneath a waterfall and
it all fell down.
you wanted a grain of sand so
you picked up a handful and
you could not find it.
you wanted reason so you barred yourself
with a foolproof logic and it
left you stone-cold robotic
-but why didi Dorothy’s scarecrow
always wish for a heart?
I am not a number
I am not a checklist
I am not a moment
I am not fleeting
I am a soul
i saw the psychology behind some
reason and it left me stone-cold
for a moment and
-step up in the consciousness
-it was not me
I know better.
never said a word
never needed to be heard
invisible never made a sound
it sat in a comfortable silence
being everything that it was
within a satisfied sigh
Invisible never had a place
it never needed anyone around
it never took a part
of anything it never
claimed a state
instead it sat
still as a skill or a skittle on a
invisible never asked
it knew there was enough and so
with inward palms tied and
closed eyes wide shut it
it never took
invisible knew the world would pass
through it like it were sieve
it hoped to catch the important bits
still as a skittle on a till