Month: September 2015

what way is forward
what way is right
how does a person decide
hungover as shit
trying to start the engine of creativity
trying to take all these disparate inputs
and make the perfect output
I pray every day
I pray to have the strength and passion in my heart
I pray to have brilliance and genius in my mind
I pray to have magic in my hands
I pray that with god,
Though I don’t believe in god,
We hold the tiller of my life togethor
And bring me towards perfection
I pray this every day
But I am still lost
Still forever lost

home was here
a place with many laughs
memories live in the varnish of each chair
the place is the same
the sun still delicately pierces the earth
the air still smells sweet
that birdsong which we happily would whistle along too
is still gently trilling
this very moment
every hand ever touched
every eyes ever met
every lips ever touched
have disappeared
drinking tea
a new habit
the sign of change
before there was no tea
today there is tea
things change
not better
not worse
life as a dream
man only interpreters
tea is fine
but it is different
whistling that same old song
that lovely birdsong
what has changed?
something has changed.
was there a tree there?
what was the name of the old gardener?
is this man the same as the old?

Waking up to Grandpa Norm wanting to go for a walk

With a cheery smile, he says this will be the last walk of his life

We walk over the dike from the cottage, onto Sunset Beach

There are pelicans in the air and a gentle breeze ruffling our hair

We are both silent and happy, carefully watching every step

He asks me about those things he will never see

What of the lighthouse of Alexandria?

Even though it was destroyed millenia ago

What was it like, he asks

I tell him to look out, to the distant island

And if he squints, he will see one just like it

He will see its towering presence

It is so large we are in its shadow

It now dominates the skyline

Together, we are there, we see it, we wonder

Then, he looks at me again

He asks about the music by Mozart

He has heard it, and loved it, yet, want to hear it again

The adagio of Klavierkonzert

Do I know it, I forget

But I start humming the first song that comes to my mind

I tunelessly try to capture a masterpiece

But soon the air is filled with a soft beauty

This is the music he wants, something beautiful

We both have smiles on our face, as we continue down the beach

Both of our eyes looking over the stones

Maybe we will find an arrowhead

Maybe we will find something we did not even expect could exist

Here, is the grizzled tree stump of a towering giant

Who once upon a time my father rested in the shade of

Here, in the bluffs, are the sand dunes I played in with my brothers

Digging to China, digging a palace

My grandpa and I, on this last day, we see it all.

The world unfolds around us, the universe revealed

The mysteries demystified

Life as a dream, the dream all around us

Everything is, as it is

Everything to be, will be as it is

And here, as the music of my grandfathers life exeunts

…..

Dry Season
it is the dry season
the river ebbs low
the farmers are worried
what if the rains don’t come
the fields are planted, unfallow
everything is ready
the silos bulging with emptiness
just let the rains come
let there be just a little luck
and man can do the rest
just give a little luck
it is still the dry season
does the dry season always last so long
the river is ever lower
the old men tell of worse times
old men always tell stories
today is today
today is sucking tomorrow dry
the fields are ready
the crows eat the seeds
we plant the seeds again
let there be just a little luck
and man can do the rest
just a little luck
my child tells me he is hungry
he looks at the blue of the empty heaven
and he has anger in his heart
the river is still here, but a trickle
a strong foot can divert it
it brings nothing except the memory of hope
the old men don’t tell stories any more
they are as lost as anyone else
the world is supposed to be one way
and when it changes, what do we do
we must do something
but we do not know
gods, if you hear me,
let the rains come
it is the time
it is the time
everything is forgiven
just let it rain
let there be just a little luck
and man can do the rest
just give us a little luck
where my home was is gone
where my fathers prayed the jungle conquers
the way things were aren’t the way they will be again
the world changes and we change with it, or we don’t
the old men are dead, yet, my son is alive
in a world that is not where we are from
and there is no love here
the land does not sing here
but there is life
but there is hunger still
and misery, always misery close to the surface
but there is life
where the old men are dead
we are here
the word is that the rains have come
it is a late harvest
the flowers are in bloom and the fields finally alive
there is happiness with the stench of death
always quickly forgotten
we are in a new place, a different place
there is a different type of field to plant here
this is not what I know, but I will try
my son should never be hungry
let there be just a little luck
and man can do the rest
just a little luck
just a little luck
and man can do the rest
it is the dry season
the river ebbs low
the farmers are worried
what if the rains don’t come
the fields are planted, unfallow
everything is ready
the silos bulging with emptiness
just let the rains come
let there be just a little luck
and man can do the rest
just give a little luck
it is still the dry season
does the dry season always last so long
the river is ever lower
the old men tell of worse times
old men always tell stories
today is today
today is sucking tomorrow dry
the fields are ready
the crows eat the seeds
we plant the seeds again
let there be just a little luck
and man can do the rest
just a little luck
my child tells me he is hungry
he looks at the blue of the empty heaven
and he has anger in his heart
the river is still here, but a trickle
a strong foot can divert it
it brings nothing except the memory of hope
the old men don’t tell stories any more
they are as lost as anyone else
the world is supposed to be one way
and when it changes, what do we do
we must do something
but we do not know
gods, if you hear me,
let the rains come
it is the time
it is the time
everything is forgiven
just let it rain
let there be just a little luck
and man can do the rest
just give us a little luck
where my home was is gone
where my fathers prayed the jungle conquers
the way things were aren’t the way they will be again
the world changes and we change with it, or we don’t
the old men are dead, yet, my son is alive
in a world that is not where we are from
and there is no love here
the land does not sing here
but there is life
but there is hunger still
and misery, always misery close to the surface
but there is life
where the old men are dead
we are here
the word is that the rains have come
it is a late harvest
the flowers are in bloom and the fields finally alive
there is happiness with the stench of death
always quickly forgotten
we are in a new place, a different place
there is a different type of field to plant here
this is not what I know, but I will try
my son should never be hungry
let there be just a little luck
and man can do the rest
just a little luck
just a little luck
and man can do the rest

girl with blue eyes,
do you still exist
dream that doesn’t die
did you ever breathe this dirty air
of the real world

a new life different than the old life
could this be called running away
see in the face of each new person
a new world ready to love
a new lover ready to kiss
can’t the entire world just exist
exist as it truly is
everyone perfect
every moment joyous
every scene worth painting
and every smile a hard fought treasure

an old life invading the new life
could we have been better
are we such slaves to ourselves
dreams flutter forever in our heads
don’t they mean anything
there is beauty in you
there is beauty everywhere
it is a captive emotion
each person a forever universe
each person the true potential
this potential stays locked away
every heart a forever fortress
every heart truly afraid to love
why don’t most flowers bloom?
building blocks
slowly slowly
everything is possible
slowly slowly
a single touch
another person so close
the walls that trap us are not forever
scratch at them and one day
either you will break
or the wall will break
is that a way to live?
at least there is hope
there is always hope
even in death there is hope

fade away
to truly exist
do the unthinkable
break away
fade away
break away
love the world
forever is forever
can you see it

the words don’t come
there is a perfect whisper
that if it were to flutter in your ear
would make everything right
the combination of words exist
the combination of touch exists
a perfect way to touch your arm
there is a real world
no matter the layers we fabricate
there is truth
there is always truth
our lack of comprehension
does not steal this truth

small memories
small wonder
small forevers
step by step by step
forever forward
the walls never buckle
unless forever
let us find the truth
let us keep searching
do you feel an emotion?

broken people
always
broken people
forever
always broken
can we accept?
kiss and love
love and whisper
whisper and touch
the world is as the world is
broken
cracked
let the cracks be perfect
let us fall through the cracks
may the cracks let us touch reality
the windows to the building block
of a perfect universe
a perfect universe like clockwork
only broken man can know

Where is my voice
It has dissapeared
in the middle time
in the lost time
another paen to the sacrfice of being lost
more complaints that amount to nothing
us sorry lot, we call ourselves the suffering
we are not the pinnacle, and we revolt
surely we are special, right
what are we if we are not special
is it possible to be second best and still special
is there a way to make peace with the average
let us climb the mountain
may we measure it with our eyes
prepare to the littlest detail
we will conquer this challenge
we will be stronger for the experience
may we talk and talk and talk
maybe you will wake up
to call me that yes, we better make sure of this
or that. or some other small detail
we will have the perfect map
then
we will arrive at the mountain
she will tower above us
past heaven and higher
our plans were all for nothing
the map will not make us succeed
all we have is the ability to push ourselves
this challenge is not a puzzle
it is a test of the soul
sometimes, as we stand at the bottom
we wonder is it possible to succeed
sometimes, we have risen right up to the top
we still wonder if it is possible to succeed
those brave souls that conquer the challenges
that seem so easy talking about from a kitchen table
they do not think the challenge is easy
they know, more then anyone, this it is beyond them
yet: they do it anyway
exhaustion rising
always, ambition tempered by sleep
daydreams falling not by laziness
rather, by our best not being enough
the rock is too heavy
what if we spent a life trying to lift the rock
if we were to train every day
the only thing in the world was ourselves
and the rock
and we never move it a hair
is that a good life to live
at least we tried at something big
let the engine start
try again, so close
try again, so close
let the engine start
for that wonderful moment of combustion
where the liquid nothing turns into flame
finally the entire machine is in motion
with the ability to go anywhere
what before was so much potential
now is an actual fact
yet
the engine is not starting
we cannot get it to start
the sweet fantasy of going anywhere
it is nothing if the engine does not start
Searchinf for angels
Calling to the heavens for something more
Make me exist
Make this existential wandering end
Make us all believe in something
Some sweet lie
Something bigger then ourselves
May you take away the wondering
So that all we have is just each other
Our endless love for each other
May we do nothing but huddle togethet
In each others arms
Keeping the night at bay
May we stop in this quest for more
And take those few small wonderful things we have
These precious grains of gold
And hoard them to our chest
May we do nothing but love each other
May we do nothing but hold each other
May the world end and we not notice
What does it mean to us anyway
We will shut the window
We will nail it shut
And the world will be so much smaller
The world will be just us
And our love
And our lack of suffering
And our few grains of gold

Again, trying to say something
Does this all build into a meaning?
A life for a life,
Years spent looking out the window
Thinking about beauty and meaning
Believing that it all means something
While so many lives are day to day
The old hobbled man
Gathering garbage on the train
Looking up to beg for money
And he is just a boy
Why is this not my life
Why should I be so lucky
Sitting here
Thinking about beauty
And what it is to live a good life
When a good life is here
How can we ignore so much wonder
How can all these gifts we’re given not be enough
The world is not beautiful
There is no meaning to life
All there is is a heart beat
Eyes that are open and absorbing
We will dissapear
Even if we leave a faint imprint
The lightest of winds will carry it away
Embrace your meaninglessness
Horde those small gifts you have
Whatever they are
Winter will come
All this brightness will fade
Take what the world gives you
And call this the meaning of life
While the well is running dry
Where is my voice
It has dissapeared
in the middle time
in the lost time
another paen to the sacrfice of being lost
more complaints that amount to nothing
us sorry lot, we call ourselves the suffering
we are not the pinnacle, and we revolt
surely we are special, right
what are we if we are not special
is it possible to be second best and still special
is there a way to make peace with the average
let us climb the mountain
may we measure it with our eyes
prepare to the littlest detail
we will conquer this challenge
we will be stronger for the experience
may we talk and talk and talk
maybe you will wake up
to call me that yes, we better make sure of this
or that. or some other small detail
we will have the perfect map
then
we will arrive at the mountain
she will tower above us
past heaven and higher
our plans were all for nothing
the map will not make us succeed
all we have is the ability to push ourselves
this challenge is not a puzzle
it is a test of the soul
sometimes, as we stand at the bottom
we wonder is it possible to succeed
sometimes, we have risen right up to the top
we still wonder if it is possible to succeed
those brave souls that conquer the challenges
that seem so easy talking about from a kitchen table
they do not think the challenge is easy
they know, more then anyone, this it is beyond them
yet: they do it anyway
exhaustion rising
always, ambition tempered by sleep
daydreams falling not by laziness
rather, by our best not being enough
the rock is too heavy
what if we spent a life trying to lift the rock
if we were to train every day
the only thing in the world was ourselves
and the rock
and we never move it a hair
is that a good life to live
at least we tried at something big
let the engine start
try again, so close
try again, so close
let the engine start
for that wonderful moment of combustion
where the liquid nothing turns into flame
finally the entire machine is in motion
with the ability to go anywhere
what before was so much potential
now is an actual fact
yet
the engine is not starting
we cannot get it to start
the sweet fantasy of going anywhere
it is nothing if the engine does not start
Searchinf for angels
Calling to the heavens for something more
Make me exist
Make this existential wandering end
Make us all believe in something
Some sweet lie
Something bigger then ourselves
May you take away the wondering
So that all we have is just each other
Our endless love for each other
May we do nothing but huddle togethet
In each others arms
Keeping the night at bay
May we stop in this quest for more
And take those few small wonderful things we have
These precious grains of gold
And hoard them to our chest
May we do nothing but love each other
May we do nothing but hold each other
May the world end and we not notice
What does it mean to us anyway
We will shut the window
We will nail it shut
And the world will be so much smaller
The world will be just us
And our love
And our lack of suffering
And our few grains of gold

Again, trying to say something
Does this all build into a meaning?
A life for a life,
Years spent looking out the window
Thinking about beauty and meaning
Believing that it all means something
While so many lives are day to day
The old hobbled man
Gathering garbage on the train
Looking up to beg for money
And he is just a boy
Why is this not my life
Why should I be so lucky
Sitting here
Thinking about beauty
And what it is to live a good life
When a good life is here
How can we ignore so much wonder
How can all these gifts we’re given not be enough
The world is not beautiful
There is no meaning to life
All there is is a heart beat
Eyes that are open and absorbing
We will dissapear
Even if we leave a faint imprint
The lightest of winds will carry it away
Embrace your meaninglessness
Horde those small gifts you have
Whatever they are
Winter will come
All this brightness will fade
Take what the world gives you
And call this the meaning of life
While the well is running dry

Sitting patiently

Waiting

Waiting

For the glory of gods embrace

To leave all we have known for the next great nirvana

For the illumination that will be revealed

By whatever form god may be

Deity on a cloud

Bearded patriarch

Or the wisdom of reincarnation

Meaningless

She sees us all the same

Not as a man, nor as dust

But holily, as a life

Something that was conscious

Something that had the chance to be a part of glorious creation

Something to gaze upon perfection

The audience for the sublime performance

She loves us

Little us

As a painter might love a work

Knowing not which individual stroke make the whole so perfect

Rather, cherishing the collective

The universal

We are the fruit of life

The watchers of the universe

The art of god

We have had this privilege

And we will have it taken from us

Fortunately

Let all creation get to touch consciousness

And when we find ourselves again

As dust or a star

We must enjoy it also

A different sort of pleasure

A different stage in the metamorphosis

Of our infinite lives

Forever holy

Forever blessed

While we wait in this present state

We have to choose

To believe in nothing

And let life slip away

Attempting to out wait time

Or

To find something to believe in

Something for the boredom of consciousness

It need not be convoluted

Perhaps the sun will rise tomorrow

Perhaps god sits on a throne

The belief itself is meaningless

Nothing

What connotates resonance

Is the dedication applied to idle fantasy

The attempt at attainment

Yes, verily

Life is nothing

Yet, verily

It is this same nothingness that lets star`s supernova

And flowers bloom in valleys filled with birdsong

This is human life

This nothing

It is pretty, yes

Is that enough?

Who can say

Shhhh, let me whisper in your ear

What if being pretty is the meaning of life?

If this is not enough

Then you will swim in seas roiled by disappointment

Sadly

For many this is not enough

Truly

For an animal that can fabricate gods

The infinite holy in day to day life is forgotten

Since it exists for the sake of existing, not for the sake of man

However, if this miniscule tidbit that is offered

Does not take away the hunger for a perfect life

One has, again, the other choice

To attempt to outwait time

To  let life slip away

To believe in nothing

If this is the mission of life

Then with tragic realization

We must realize life is about hard choices

We find ourselves today

This present day

Past the difficult forks in the road

Do we even remember choosing?

And alas, the choices are finished

We shuttle towards the end

Momentum building upon momentum

While that insidious part of our mind to do with regret

Is in throes of agony

All those paths that we will never walk down

All those lives that we will never live

Could we have done better

Yes

Yes

Yes

Oh, the masterpieces that might have been

With those colours we never took the time to create

Yes

Yes

Yes

Weakness is universal

Weakness is in the id of man

Yet

Weakness is no excuse for missed perfection

We need to be the first perfect specimen

An example to illuminate humanity

And rather, we buckle

Another example of perfections impossibility

Weakness speaks with honeyed voices

Life is finite, and the universe is infinite

There must be compromises!

It is logical

It is true

And fuck you truth, bane to beauty

Your truth has tainted our potential

Made us believe in the inevitability of compromise

And after this logic

The dominoes fell themselves

Taking us to this unreal place

That we call the present

Buried deepest

Most personally

Till a person accepts it as a part of character

Rather than a free choice

Is that belief a person is either a lightbulb or a laser

I know this choice has feasted on my edible dreams

On one side

To see the universe superficially

To fly wherever one goes

To skim the entire world

But to never truly land, nest, and live

To be like that softest lightbulb

To illuminate everything

With never truly revealing anything

Then

The other paradigm

To truly reveal something

But that is everything

Like seeing and knowing a single star

And the other stars

In other constellations

Of the endless night sky of ignorance

Are ignored

And worse

Not lusted for

Both these choices have rational logic

If a man is a light bulb

He might never make anything

But he will know the shape of existence

If a man is a laser

He might never know the shape of existence

But he will have made something

Yes, each has rationality

But what does rationality know about passion

Perfection and passion are oxymoronic

Perfection is the blight of daytime misery

With the thought that life is like a mountain

One merely needs to climb high

And eventually, the summit is here

A good life is like a succession of dominoes

As long as you go forward

You will reach the end

But passion

The wind of my sleep time fog

Is like a bird

Simply fly up the mountain

Ignore if you have no wings

Fabricate them

Better yet: fly anywhere

Or nowhere

Yes, this seems correct

To abandon the quest to run through endless dominoes

To abandon the attempt to go as far as any man

To abandon the attempt to find the end

Because what does it gain a man

But a lot of dominoes

What I want

Yes me

Perhaps because it`s what I have never had

Is for momentum to pause

To come to a stop

Fuck forward

What is it here

What is it that I have discovered

What is it that this little dot of a laser adds to life

Or that a light bulb illuminates

Nothing

Nothing in isolation

They are the same

Symbiotic to each other

And to live irrationally but with verity

One has to chase the whole

Chase nothing

What is beautiful is not in some direction

No

It is right here

Dangerous to logic but perfect for passion

They are good things

Beautiful things

The things worth living for

The sunshine of another world

That for known reasons we deny ourselves

Illogical

This dark girl in my bed

Playing with unnamed children

Illogical

But these are the blocks

Of the true perfect life

A life not enslaved to the living

But rather, a life where a man is alive

Imbued with true consciousness

Not just breathing

Holily,

Alive