Categories
Lyrics Poetry

Antidote For Dessert

I could be falling down, never to return
I could be learning how to love myself
Treading on the waves that cancel each other out
Leaving just the water I walk upon

You were a good minus one sometimes
It didn’t matter which one of us left the other behind
As long as we’re together, eye of a hurricane
As long as we’re apart, overcome with inner calm

It could have been different, if I had been stronger
It could have had ripples forward in time
Dreading the pain that comes with separation
Missing the one I left behind

Categories
Philosophy Prose

Perfect Moments In Memory Glass

This is about love.

I watched this movie on Netflix called The Map of Tiny Perfect Things, and it was amazing. Hit me right in the feels. At the end, it was talking about perfect moments, and I realized that I wrote a poem about perfect moments for my middle brother’s wedding – read it during the ceremony, in fact. It’s this:

Eternal Matrimony

I don’t care that you’re running
I know you’re not running away
I don’t mind the mountains you climb
I know you’re not just with me ‘because I’m there’
I don’t mind if you look at another
I know you’re thinking of me
I don’t worry when you’re gone
I know you walk beside me
I don’t care that I may never get everything I want
You are all I need
I’m not upset by the raging river of differences between us
The stepping stones of perfect moments bring me to you
I don’t worry about your past
It brought you to me, and us to this perfect moment
And from this perfect moment to the next
Though our lips part, still we kiss
Though our hands let go, still we touch
Though our eyes close, still we see one another
Though our voices are raised, still we whisper
Of perfect moments and perfect love

In the middle of the movie somewhere, she said she’d only be friends. He wanted more. Unrequited love. And I realized that the moment before it became manifest, the love he felt – the love I feel for someone – is a perfect one. It’s like love is a baseball that can be thrown around and used to play fun games, but the minute it’s unrequited it is like a baseball signed by a World Series winning team. Sure, you worship it, cherish it, look at it from every facet, but you never touch it again, for fear of diminishing its value.

Some perfect moments need to be felt by feeling the feeling of remembering the perfect moment, rather than feeling the moment itself. I’m afraid that reliving the moment itself will eventually make that moment like any moment, one of many, a drop in the ocean, a raindrop in the sky.

A raindrop falling from the vast sky into the vast ocean.

Instead of that one raindrop that causes me and the person I love to smile and laugh and run like crazy for shelter from the storm that just started, and then watching it and listening to each drop, none of them like that first one.

Sometimes an entire person is encased in memory-glass. You can’t go back, you know. You can only remember.

Categories
Prose

William Tell Over With

A cornucopia of worldwide utopia, sending hope to both of you, betrothed to you. Caterwauling storms bring drops and clatters, stabbing through hearts into the heart of something that doesn’t even matter, and even if it did, where is it on the wind? Wind up and unwind, to bring pieces of mind to act as the stones one might use to cross the river of blues.

You can’t go back. When you do go back, it’s either a painful reminder to you of what went wrong, or it’s a rejection of what you once were, plural and singular, and you’re putting the ‘sing’ in singular.

Blood ripping through my veins, dripping out of hearts and coffee and goddamns

…you would say, in variants and versions and sequels, like war drums, because you had actually declared war against everyone. You thought everyone had battled you for so long, that you went through learning it, through experiencing it, past expecting it, and straight on to causing it. Certainty was the pillow you lay your head on, and correctness was the sheet you slept under. You had guns, and you had ammunition, but one of them was wrong, so every time you hit your target, and you always hit your target, there was a little bit of backlash – and there was always backlash.

I was never sure if I should take away your guns, or your ammunition, or stand back and bandage your wounds… but I was always sure you wanted me standing downrange with an apple on my head.

Categories
Philosophy Prose

The Coldness Of Dropping Into A Relaxed State

It removes me. Drives the world away for a while, and puts me into my own world. I learned it is better to envision than to replicate. Better to imagine and create from that.

It’s death and life. It’s between. To express a vision. To change an image. My version.

Categories
Lyrics Poetry

Spiral Staircases

I’m beside myself to be inside you
You are my home
I tried to find myself
Found me in you
You’re not alone
You are my home
Spiral staircases take us to our favorite places
You’d like to be a better you
I am your home
There is no one better than you
You’re the best person I know
You are my home
Spiral staircases take us to our favorite places
Invisible, let’s disappear
Let’s pretend that we’re the only people here
You are my home
I love how you move towards me
There’s a middle to meet in
A bed for us to be in
An eternity to share life
Spiral staircases take us to our favorite places
You are my love