goodbye sweet moment
lying in the light of a summer morning
California
readying myself for whatever highs and lows the day may bring. making conscious contact. watching my kittens thirst by their eyes for the birds. drawing back the peaks of audio. tails move side to side with the eyes
these eyes are emerald
these eyes are amber
mine are greenblue…
sending this message to space
Five were the aerial views of the heart. Valves played and polished like horns. Sound bounces off points to show form. An audio track. The history of the world. Ten were the arteries full of light and uncontained. See the narrative of the world bubble up from undersea. Liquid. Seamless. Without end. Fifteen were the compressions. Before and after life. Unstudied. Immeasurable. Wild. Unknown.
the effect the world has on me thickens my skin. i become less vulnerable while trying hard not to be completely insensitive. i wanna be able to feel cuz you gotta feel, to feel alive. like anyone i wanna feel safe. a thick skin can protect. like trusted family and friends. deadbolted doors.
there is something juicy at the core of you. something sacred and true that the world cannot corrupt. you can share this with them. they can see it in your eyes. they may get under your skin. you can learn to protect your sacred self. and offer it with those who are deserving.
kindness and compassion make for the best tasting fruit. the ability to see behind personalities is a great gift few have. those who have or develop this capacity are often smiling or less fearful walking the world. for they realize that even the hardest among us have a sweetness deep inside.
the colorless moments of stressed inhibition
must i be always backed into a corner before i come
fighting?
a sea of bad news and brake lights
ahead
even tears and smiles
were a stretch
then
from that place of half flag summer fatigue
arose a current from the far
east
we would not know until we opened two walls
the windows
life came into the trees
i awoke feeling different
all the colors returned
time was no longer just a waiting for work
there was meaning
it was personal
it was yours
it was mine
I believe it is good to be part of what is to come. Always a change. When you become it, staying exactly with it, they see you embody a movement and you can be credited, thus, you are the movement. This is not without dangers. You may rise and fall. You may lose yourself somewhat. They may disinherit you when the fashions change. I tend to shy from movements which are both conscious and public. I may identify with some, partways…yet I like to create space and step aside into it. I prefer my own rhythms. My own movement. Yet even personality is perilous. Life will go on so — become.
today is history, tomorrow. whatever was said or done already is etched in our past. a historical record. this post is me creating my history. i write these words in a pyschosocial fashion on a paperless trail, connecting my life to yours. i like how well we make history, together.
goodbye sweet moment. lying in the warm light of a summer morning, California. readying myself for whatever highs and lows the day may bring. getting right with God. watching my kittens thirst by their eyes for the birds. drawing back the bow. these eyes are emerald. these eyes are amber. mine are greenblue…sending this message to space.
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| little fish in my neighborhood |
