Author: Barrett

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

living life in an unreal reality

breathing a beauty whose time is ending
loving these last moments,
the foam of a crashing wave
unsustainable
yet here we are
in the heart of dissonance
reveling in chaos
for this brief spark of light
where the chaos is normal

 

standing on a cloud
staring at those soaring vistas
that haunt our days and our dreams
knowing
consciously
that this cloud cannot support our weight
that we are doomed to fall to earth
to perish from the speed
the danger of these heights we carelessly mined known
horrible we braved the harrows of our choice

yet
the choice to fall is not our own

to fall to the hard ground of normal
to fall to the hard reality of a disenchanted reality

simply an unavoidable future

a simply law of physics

animals without wings trying to fly

we know that this dark future, it comes
but
that future

that fall from heaven
it is not here now
for this moment
there is just that little density the cloud gives our feet
there are just the few seconds

which let us peak our head above the high wall of mendacity

to see those forbidden sights of the real world
and here

while we are here
there is this rapture
this forever wonder
at the beauty we are seeing
even if we see it
as we fall away from it
never to see it again
still
we will remember
harsh humanity
even before we blaze into an ephemeral brilliance
we see our demise
the first wobbles of the spinning top
looked for so acutely
that even if they are not there
we are sure we see them

or maybe we were falling
feeling only the freedom of flight
yet, now, the joy has passed
we do not see the birds so close
playing with us like dolphins in the shallows
their presence pleases us no longer

we do not see the transient wonder
of those infinite interpretations

which the clouds morph through
no
all we see is the ground
shuttling towards us
to wake us from this dream
to break this pleasant perfection
still
the ground is far away
but those clouds which were so gorgeous
are now spouting lightning
and with every brief flash
all we see is how much closer the ground is
and with each lightning flash of life
whose brilliance is in many ways wonderful
we see the demise of our deified position
and oh
maybe the lightning is beautiful
but the dark spaces in-between
where we don’t wait for the light to show us the ground
where instead we wait for the crash of the invisible ground
taking away the unreality of this mystic plain

taking away the crashing wave

taking away the wonderful chaos

that is life at this moment

 

Here I was

There where I’m not

Fantasizing about a tomorrow

That has already disappeared

 

I disappear

Dissolve

Cease to exist

Not all of reality

But that specter who was me

Yet is not me anymore

Delusions of the man I miss being

Those happy times

Whose misery is buried

Ground lost to the cleansing snow of memory

The only thing I see

Is what I choose to remember

And what I remember

Was the beauty of roses past

When now I am in an unknown season

 

Life changes

Chapters change, begin, end, and are skipped

Here where I am

At this very moment

There is the looking back to what has already happened

Those lips touched

Conversations shared

Eyes caught, and, then let go

They were not me

The me who is here

Where I am

He was born today

Will die tomorrow

Sleep taking most of what he offers

And alcohol taking the rest

With maybe a few minutes of beauty

Not macabre

Just the soft reality

Of my disappearance

 

When I dream of tomorrow

I weep

I can fantasize such glorious creations

Myself the man I dare not even dream to be

But no matter the wonder that might await

It comes at the expense of this moment

Not a squandered moment, never

Rather, the realization that this present combustion

So powerful

So right

So ephemeral

It is going to disappear

 

There was an argument

A very bad argument

Between myself and another

And words were said that should not be said

And I wish to never hear them again

Yet

Now

Inside my memories

That argument

So long ago

I miss it

What I would give for it to happen again

Today

Tomorrow

Forever

That tombstone to a time that is no longer here

That last flash of light

Before the complete eclipse

 

My lover

My life

The one who doesn’t exist

At least not anymore

What was I to you?

I remember the days

Where you would wake me

By just staring

Waiting to catch my eye at initial consciousness

Knowing how wonderful for me

After a harrowing night of horrible dreams

To wake seeing your peaceful face

It has disappeared

And this is ok

I forgive you, if you can forgive me

That is not what eats on my tranquility

No

What turns me, a proud man

Into a writhing mess, not even human

What it is

Is I never asked you what you thought when you stared at me

And now,

Because that time is no longer

And even if I was to ask you

You wouldn’t be able to give me truth

Because that time

It has disappeared

 

Yes, I mourn

Yet now, I am here in the moment

Something beautiful

Something special

So much like those past days

Entirely different

With this unifying thread of constant bliss

Universal perfection

A man is not a this or that

But a compendium

A universe

Encompassing Everything

I am at bliss

I hope for bliss tomorrow

Yet

Yet

Yet

There were other times

Other times that filled my soul

The bliss of yesterday

And as I lose it

As I forget it

I still remember

Lovingly

Those last shards I still have

Before they, to, disappear

 

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 then 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 worthy of 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
isn’t that a way to live?
at least there is a 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

 

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 then 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 worthy of 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
isn’t that a way to live?
at least there is a 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 wall never buckles
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

 

I come from a place that I do not remember

In this place

May we call it my home

There were colors that do not exist here

Fantastic shades that fill my waking mind

Yet never can be painted with my tongue

To take you there

To show you the places that made me

Me

I will tell again, these same words

I will try again to make real

The unreal

Why?

I do not know.

I truly do not even think you care

But for me, myself

I need to attempt

I need to delve back into the inside of my mind

To again feel that far away life

That is not mine to live any longer

Indulge me

Put up with me and my eccentricities

Know by sitting still and simply listening

You are giving a lost man

A blind man

A dying man

A happy memory

 

If I want to describe any one thing

I must describe everything

Because what is different about my last life

Is everything

Everything is a degree shy of what would seem normal

And the everything that was my everything was normal to me

That is an important point, yes

The everything is different

But it is not different to the us that called this everything home

Because it was all we knew

 

In this place, there lived people

The people whom I love, loved and will love

Yet who you, my very good friends

Have never known

And will never know

Know that my heart is divided

Bitterly

And that I say this not because I hate you

Rather

I love you too much

Just as I love those lovely creatures

Who populate my dreams

Yet are not here

How is a man ever to make peace

When he is a puzzle

Whose pieces can never be placed together

 

I dream

Not every night, or at least I don’t think

But they are in my mind many nights

Never fantasy

Never the future

Just the past

Those conversations I have had

Those same conversations I will never have again

Those hands I have touched

Whose bearer has aged, withered

And even if I was to touch again

Would not recognize

The world changes

And we change with it

And what was

Cannot be again

 

A thought just flew through my mind

A memory, really

Or maybe, how is it I can truly tell?

A girl I used to love has perished

I heard, and knew

Acknowledged and mourned

Yet

I did not go to the funeral

This girl who, she and I, we loved

I held her and told her sweet nothings

She is gone forever

Those words I whispered don’t exist anymore

And why

Why did I not see her again

Why did I not mourn more

Please, angel, if that is you

Forgive me, or, perhaps

Don’t

I was not there for you when you needed me

Is it true you took your own life?

I was not there when you needed me

Because I was busy

Burn me

Torture me

I deserve the worst, and beyond

Your suffering was heard by me

I just ignored you

You are the past

Not the present,

Not the future

I just ignored you

 

Well my friend

Where is it I have brought you?

I’m afraid very little

I could have told you something pretty

But instead you see my ghosts

Life has been good to me

Life has been good to me

But life is very long

And every step forward

Is a step farther away from something else

And my weeping daydreams come

During a fantastical present

Just

I remember

I remember

I remember

And I cannot forget

 

Bubbles rise, burst, dissolve
After such a quick life
They exist no more
Just a faint ripple

A memory perturbing,

Those new bubbles
Themselves quickly rising
Quickly bursting
Quickly existing no longer

Nothing but a ripple

 

Somewhere
Deep inside those memories
That don’t float down the stream of our minds
Until after we truly know the imperfections of life
Until after we truly know the pure depths of sorrow
Deep inside these memories
Showered by our tears
Grown by the nurturing warmth of our despair

Forgotten, lost, and forever gone
A flower may bloom
A reminder that yes, beauty, she is real
That even after sorrow
Still, a flower can bloom
And a flower once appreciated

It does not fade
It does now wilt
It stays in bloom forever
Deep inside those memories
Whose ephemeral wonder

Live in our minds forever

 

Lost in this doleful garden we call our mind
A slave to those scents rising from the flowers of life
Powerless to stop the chain that links that arbitrary scent
With some distant memory
Either poignant or sad
Uplifting or melancholic
A forced arising in my mind
Like to hear that sound on the verge of the periphery
Which sounds so much like a sweet name calling
From a loving mother
That’s gone unheard for decades
That’s gone un-thought for many lives
Yet, here, the flower blooms
And its scent suddenly comes
Unwittingly, we smell these pretty little nothings
Not giving the action, indeed any action
The seriousness it deserves
Unwittingly we are brought back in time
To a time that is unreal
To a time when things were different then they are
How nice that memory of my mother
How sweet it makes me smile
And how long ago it was that such sweetness was so common
Oh, but that just a single drop in waterfall
Striking me bodily
Drowning me under the weight of a voluptiously lived life
Oh, stop, stop, stop
May the past sleep quietly
May those horrors I have stop haunting
May the past beauties stop forcing me to question the future
The weakness of humanity has an answer to the forever stream of memory
Forgetfulness
Amnesia
Surely, this is simply an escape
The right answer is to master the waterfall
To swim in its torrid waters
To be the true summation of all these disparities
Which are the hallmark of an angelic life
Yet, the scents coming from this garden
They do not live in the world of rationale
They operate much like a dream
It is not decipherable in words
What poignancy these dreams have
It is the language of atmosphere
Of  that arbitrary fear of the night
And that captivating wonder

Of forever loveliness
Sometimes, a scent may come from this garden
And to truly interact with it
To understand the intricacies that saturate its saturated essence
Would take that same impossible person who we were
At this memories creation
To truly do this
We must devolve, revolve, dissolve this person we are
To be the person we are not anymore
Perhaps this could be wonderful
This could be the way to live a meaningful life
But
Again
That bane: human weakness
Forcing me doubt at the peak of a cliff
Myself
So assured that yes, I can undergo metamorphosis midjump
I can become that angelic bird that can fly through these memories
Yet fear of the unknown
That wiggling creature: doubt
And human weakness breaks me down
And like all those other lost souls
So close to a true calling
A true resonance
We renounce the embracement of the magic of this garden
We choose to forget
To ignore
The lives we’ve already lived
The wonders we’ve already seen
The universes that exist nowhere
Except in those invisible voids
Deep in our mind
That we refuse to illuminate
Afraid of awakening ghouls
When really there is only treasure

 

Things change
Fall apart
Come undone
The strong brick wall crumbles
Becomes dust
And those wonders it supported
Those who depended on it for protection
All turn to dust with the wall
Sad? Yes
Tragic? Yes
Yet
One cannot blame the wall for aging
For falling victim to that benevolent mistress
Time
She captures us all
Simply remember
All that you have right now
The life you lead
The people you love
The happiness you glide through
And those sorrows you weep through
They will all be gone
They will all be gone forever
All that you, you, truly have
Is this sand quickly falling through your hands
The hour glass escaping the confines of your fingers
Don’t chase what is impossible to capture
Just enjoy that sweetness running through your hands
While it still runs through your hands

 

flowers bloom

pick them they wilt

there is nothing left to give

of those beautiful things

known to be true­­­

 

our lives are ahead of us

our lives are ahead of us

our lives are ahead of us

squander youth

squander today

squander this moment

our lives are ahead of us

forever young

the canvas of life ahead of us

the future forever ahead of us

squander this moment

squander today

we’ve earned a break

our lives are ahead of us

don’t dare look in the mirror

don’t dare notice youth fading

when did it become okay to live a normal life

when did passion become expendable

are lives ahead of us

our lives ahead of us

another night slipped away

another night that didn’t mean anything

our lives ahead of us

are lives ahead of us

 

life begins with no confusion

clear sighted, far sighted

dreams just steps away

life as a dream

perfection as attainable

remember how you used to be

words raining from your mouth

their holiness unnoticed

the fragrance of poetry from every sparkle of the eye

life as a dream

dreams just steps away

is that really how we thought?

is that really who we were?

when did the fountain run dry?

when did we lose the ability to speak

when did we forget,

all of the poetry of the world

is it still there, all around us?

was it ever even there?

 

trying again

trying harder

starting again

starting harder

say what it is

say what it really is

make the words bend to emotion

let them lose the staleness of reality

let them be imbued with magic, grace

unreality

let them be imbued with the way the world truly is

a metaphor for the needed spiritual awakening

the continuous river from the bubbling start

through the rapids, meanders, forks,

till then, again, to meet the sea

touching those pretty waterfalls of its youth

just the once

flowing through every bend

just the once

man, us, you, me

these same hands that used to hold a rattle,

now working to buy a rattle,

these same legs once walked these same streets

with people who aren’t here, not as they were

the memories don’t fade

that all happened didn’t it?

does a river remember,

running over every stone

a joke unthought of until that one little moment

and if that moment didn’t happen? That joke? Would it still exist?

how sweet a memory

only after it’s repetition becomes impossible,

only after the memory leaves us,

nothing but a faint imprint that once, something happened

and it was a part of us

but what was it again? was it beautiful?

we simply rush downstream

we rush back to the sea

we spend our one life rushing towards an end

with no real knowledge of why we go there

with no real knowledge if we have to go there

 

why do we live as lies?

why aren’t we living how we know is right?

ignoring those things that call after our hearts,

that chase our waking minds

whose spirit lives in the closed garden of our structured self perception

why are we convinced that dreams belong just to idle fantasy

truth is our only reality

yet, we give it willingly to benevolent thieves

we allow the false imposition of someone else’s dreams

we do not trust our own hearts to guide us,

we do not trust our own definition of happiness to sate us

we bow to the whims of reality

we walk in a line that was set for us

with no question of climbing the vistas that are on every side

with no question of stopping and stopping and wondering at it all

we walk in a line that we have locked ourselves to

we are scared of our own reality

we are too lazy to chase our own reality

how dare we? how dare we squander precious life?

the only thing worth chasing

the only thing worth trying for

self honesty in every moment

immolate life to a deity greater then judgmental eyes

 

try, and perhaps fail

try, and perhaps be mocked

try to carve at inner perfection with imperfect tools

there is no true way to create that monolith in your mind

so be it

do not be afraid

create your imperfection

in an imperfect world

an imperfect attempt at chasing perfection

may be the closest we have to perfection

and an honest attempt at obeying the truth in your heart

may be the closest thing to a perfect life

in an imperfect world