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

You Can’t Go Back

Idle twist with benefits, one, two, three. Desires that take thorns through skin, but never bleed. How many feelings does it take to get to the center of my soul? The world many never know. I may never know. It’s a secret that nobody knows.

Icicles form in summer skies dripping from my eyes. I am cold, and warmth took a holiday. Yet, I burn.

You can never go back. Ever. Back is a nuclear holocaust wrapped in plastic, so it’s toxic and can’t breathe, and skin ripples, and tears pour into wine glasses blood red so everyone can have one.

I revolve around a barycenter between me and the idea of you. Maybe it’s not the best idea I’ve ever had, but it seemed like a good one at the time. Shut up. Stop. Let me bring the center back inside myself and put it between my head and heart again.

Categories
Philosophy

Bitter Cold, Bitter Me

She was here and then she left. It’s not like it’s even been that long, but I still feel alone. This snow, and this pandemic, both are so isolating and depressing. On the rare occasions I feel depressed, I want to reach out.

But I can’t. Because I promised myself I would never go back. No one from the past.

For various reasons, I have shed people. Some are simply ghosts, disappearing without a trace and me, with no energy left to chase them. Many are gone for cause, good reasons I think. Not being a friend. Acting out their pasts on me. Taking advantage of my good nature, which fills my cynical cup up just a little more.

Some I loved, or could have loved, if not for that one fatal flaw. Some for a plethora of fatal flaws, but who’s counting? A few didn’t care to keep talking to me, so why should I try? You know, that situation where you decide to see what happens if you don’t always make the first move, send the first text… and then you never hear from them again.

So be it. I’ll wait for people who want my company. They’ll be worth it.

Categories
Poetry

This Coffee Shop Is Disconnected

Will the carrot and stick method work when I want something sweet and I feel no pain?
You took it all away and left me with everything
A fantastic trick

Does it mean that everything is okay when I no longer hear the screaming?
With no sound, laughing and crying look the same
Silence is also an answer

Categories
Poetry

It’s Not You, It’s (How Much You Don’t Do It For) Me

Binge watching you break my heart
Plot twist in season two
I’m cancelled without a finale
The rally’s failed miserably
I have too
Fringe mocking me mercilessly
Haven’t found all the pieces yet
Guest starring in my own story
I’m not the hero
Is there any part of me left

Categories
Lyrics

Have A Look At Yourself

If you really don’t care about anyone
Why do you have notifications on?
Why don’t you make your vacations long?
Why are your celebrations so wrong?

Do you need someone?
Don’t they have to come to you?
Do you need somebody new
Already?
Maybe you need some rest
What are you going through?
Have you had a good look at you?
Unsteady

Are you dumb enough to come out of the rain?
Won’t it wash you clean?
Maybe the pain of the cold
Is just what you need?

Don’t you need someone?
Do they have to be a certain way?
Would it do to have anyone
Available?
Maybe your restlessness
Is a warning sign?
Have you had a good look at you?
Miserable

Categories
Uncategorized

In Wonder

I wonder sometimes if happiness is really just an illusion, elusive and prone to confusion, buried deep within the psyche, and if I don’t like it, let’s get Mikey.

I wonder sometimes if tranquility is simply beyond my ability, well outside my grasp, something I have to ask for but never receive, the concept of its existence difficult to believe.

I wonder sometimes if peace is really just spelled wrong, and pieces of my life feel wrong and smell wrong, somewhere around me but completely undetected, as though the clues are there but I’m the undetective.

I wonder sometimes if it’s possible to be stronger, if the things that don’t kill me actually will, they just take a bit longer, if writing this all down will make everything clearer or less, if cleanliness is next to godliness but I am just a mess.

Categories
Poetry Prose

Light Running As Water

Written with the lovely Ms. Erotic Energy

Each of us, alone… we draw the other in. Crave the other’s attention, looking for a break in the shadows where our light can shine through.

Shadows hanging as curtains, yet powerless to contain in fullness the depth of life contained within the light. The light running as water to the place of least resistance. Always finding a way to shine forth. Curtains opening to our stage, where we perform our love story, the light now spotlight, now moonlight bathing us in its warm glow, now starlight under which our wishes come true.

Wishes long thrown to the wind to be carried to their places of rest. Awaiting the right season to be transformed by conditions which seem harsh and unseemly. A breaking of will to reveal a root, a stem. Pain of growth. Pushing upward and onward. Until finally, with time, fruition. The sweetest, most tempting fruit comes from those seeds of hardship and strife. The passing ages are sunbeams marking time, bringing rain and sustenance to the bleakest ground, filling it with life and happiness.

And so stands on the stage, two. Both basking in various arrays of light and personal enlightenment. Seeing the curtain draw back, the light emerging in its forms of glory. Hearts quicken. Lines unrehearsed. Nay, unwritten. Time holding its breath in quiet wonder. They, alone. No audience to await the opening stanzas.

Categories
Lyrics Poetry

A New Year In Every Time Zone

I’m feeling ‘inside’ today
Watching the rain or the snow
A fire to guide me
To my own private spaces
Inner reflections
Introspection
Entering a new year
Like opening a door
To a room I just discovered

It’s a metaphor
What is this ‘meta’ for?
What is this medicine for?
I hope I feel okay

Not feeling too alive today
Watch me complain again
My own thoughts guide me
To unexplored territory
Entering interesting
Exiting expectations
Leaving me behind
Like opening up
To old flames and new lovers

It’s a metaphor
What is this ‘meta’ for?
What is this medicine for?
I hope I feel okay

Categories
Lyrics Poetry

This Reality Thing Is Going Viral

Crushing all these moments
Airbound stepping stones
Pressured into diamonds
Only far less faceted

Aching for connections
Pen pals for playmates
It’s my real neck on your fake block
A sword of homecoming

This could catch on
The graphics are amazing
Effects surreal
Costumes and playthings
This could take off
Upward downward spiral
Wrapped around our fingers
Reality goes viral

In and out and in again
It’s all just molecules
Breathe in and breathe out again
Running up that hill with problems

Waiting for rejection
Words on screen are screaming
It’s your real foot on my fake chest
A day of wrecking feelings