new cars
i would rather keep my old one
it was new 14 years ago
when
i still rather kept my old one
when my old one
now
was new
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Tag Archives: writing
finger on the pulse
Several years had passed and talking to others became refreshing and I was drawn off my guard. I could hold a dialogue with you, maybe withstand an argument. Then I could look into your eyes without losing my train of thought. Then you wouldn’t mistake me for dishonest.
My skin became a millimeter thicker and I wasn’t so cold at night. Then I was not so sensitive to things you said. My social norm restoration experiment was paying off. Life was less a collection of used parts and problems I wished would only die away.
Engagement became rewarding if not organic. I set my clock to the frequency of several functions a day. I demanded no less than I show up. Not every meeting was reciprocated, and not all of those that were, bore fruit. I found only one good conversation a day (face to face) was enough to keep my finger on the pulse of culture.
greenblue
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
5.5.5
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.
(self)
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.
what was given us
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
may (sometime) three
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.
