Today I

Feel tangled like spaghetti squashed

into a tin can tossed under a moving van

before being emptied onto a hot pan.

How to remove the

Ego from this egg and let its

shell crack to let the yellow love beneath

It spill because beneath the vulnerability is a still and it

is from where the happy fills

ISO, Aperture, Shutterspeed

to create a shallow depth of field

to achieve bokeh, to learn about balance

ISO, aperture and shutter speed. Trap light, Trap

time, Trap moment. Trap a look. Trap a story

Trap a history.

and trap it right.

 

Throw words into the air

Like glitter-dust confetti, and watch

-watch, how they fall onto the ground in an explosion of ideas

a kerfuffle of meaning. Watch, watch

how its alphabetic matter disintegrates and separates like

form from dust or dust in wind. Or wind.

Like wind, it breaks, it cannot be caught, it cannot be still.

It fades beneath more words beneath time beneath travel and

experiences. It fades until there is nothing left but a memory, then

a memory of a memory and then -something- so distant and so brittle that

even the act of trying to grasp it will destroy it, will destroy it smithereens.

So be careless and careful all at once. Because words need to spill out of and over themselves to become something healthy. Something real.

Like the perseids shower shimmer above us now we are only fleeting,

so let words fly with motivation, until they find their meaning,

let them stretch unframed into this universe, adorned with a comet-chaos-consciousness

where they can breathe.

 

The mushrooms are off

a day early

Google told me tricks about the slime on their surface

that was a tale of that tell and now

the bin is more full than the fridge

I slept with a nostalgic sadness over me

a blanket of old memories like a fragmented movie screen

replaying the tracks that tug at my gutt and make my heart thud heavier as

if anchoring it into all of what was once happiness, and only bringing back the bitter of

the sweet

Of light and shadow and happiness, pain. Or love, and hate. These are but two sides of the same coin.

And these are all coin tricks, these distilled memories that collectively sieve through almost as the anti-remedy of healing

we are all coin magicians, sifting through our moments and organizing our memories in feelings

revealing only the good parts and the taken-for-granted moments. I wish. I wish. I wish.  I could pause and select and keep forever the best parts of it.

Now again the water is over my head and the thuddud of this heart is sinking, and so I must keep swimming

swim past the memories into the present now;

it is time to make new memories.

What is democratic governance?

(because prior to this I did not know what the word meant)

The independence of branches

A separation of power

an order

a respect

a transparency

an accountability

a dance of differences

without the barring of rhythm or the

blocking of ears

A voice to minorities

A humility from the majorities

a protection of the rights and dignity of everybody

 

 

reference: http://unmit.unmissions.org/Default.aspx?tabid=12071

 

 

 

 

 

Restless Air

anger electric energy dancing from the wisps of

forgotten integrity left out humanity careless ego and

lowered self esteem. Taken from the place where steps stood

on cracked concrete and stumble-walked and mumble-talked a mist

layer of existence minus the clarity. Taken from a place where fog hung heavy

like the eyelids over our eyes that irritate, with lashes stuck in grit and the inability

to contemplate before we speak. The inability to blink. We stare, casually unaware that we are hurting until we hurt another in the tone of our voice and the choice of our words.

We walk, carelessly and with a bitter energy that tells the other to ‘watch where you are going’ and forgets, all at once, where we are coming from.

We talk, louder than is necessary, hoping that the words we speak so clearly still those quiet whispers in our heart,

-but if we were to listen to that thuddud pulse that teller of the soul that all-for-you crown and captain of our whole

-it would tell us to follow those footsteps which our hearts have etched. To follow with courage and that being tired, doesn’t necessarily mean rest.

So onward, onward with humility and an apology to the anger I have felt in these few days. Onward with an opening of heart and a stilling of mind, emotions were just passing clouds but beyond that I understand that the sky is me.

Another poem to break the silence

to write again and right again

white space black ink

to find again

unravel ideas incite think

to breathe again

the grounding of a soul a link

of mind to heart an unconscious depart

a fatter than flatter dimension of art

a prowess of pronouns a  hexagon seeing

reflective object subject and freeing

 

 

Fly

Don’t ‘learn’ to fly,

Don’t ‘try’

just hop and hop and jump and leap and

bound until you fly.

When you’ve been walking all your life

heals scraping tarmac growing blisters

on your toes and growing dullness in your mind and

a heart slowly turning from flesh to stone until you

stop.

Don’t walk today, don’t struggle, don’t scrape your feet slowly

nearing that distant pindrop goal. Don’t give in to the tedious and struggle that is the journey. Don’t let it be the journey.

No, -know that you are already there.

That journey: it is here! you are where you need to be and where you

need to be is -you-

so be, and breath, and Fly.

 

Dreams of fried egg

over nasi goreng

and the crunch of fresh crushed

ice lemon juice (we won’t call it lemonade)

And the dead weight of dates make the palm bend

forward

as neon parakeets collect their sweet treasures and

leave the gems behind to grow. And

the shrieks of a hungry child- who might just

be tired-don’t you know? and a switch to their bright smile,

see the eyes of an opening mind and the stretch

of a waking soul and the wonder and surprise

as their world unfolds

watch this pitter patter of chitter chatter

over chai