line by line i move through day and night in foreign tongue the suggestion of, the possibility, the inevitable outcome. flashing in time with the past, the unexpected resurrected. with the longing of endless nights and lost days in your arms, future past, imperfect, imperative and present tense. rescue us from transparency and thin disguise wandering aimlessly, unavoidably exposed. Add Comment the embodiment the presence the essence of love as it expands and contracts as familiar as the haircut you gave your baby brother before you pushed him off the porch as foreign as a language, beautiful and incomprehensible looking for gesture and nuance as the years add up mining deeper even though depth is always risky as any miner will tell you when he descends into the darkness prospecting for bodies, weighing profits, extracting material before the reclamation. break it down, build it up. it's all here rising slowly to the surface face to face, open handed, willing, ripe, seductive Longing for the we of us, inseparable, invincible and free the you of us, art and mindfulness, tender to the touch. Stronger than carbon steel, consciousness higher and deeper, always gaming the years and trading up. Visions in broad strokes from the strange to the bizarre. Visions of loveliness, delicate and perishable. Exquisite this life with you... Beauty incarnate, my love. One morning you walk out and there is nothing to fear. Another, nothing more than fear itself. The steepness of the hill, the thunderheads, the ominous outlook sheltered deep inside to protect you from the worst case scenario as all life seems to be measured against. Worst to best, with nothing of consequence in between. That is our depression, our longing, our escape from the moment which seems so ordinary when it is all that we have. How did we arrive here? The photo on the wall I always wake up to never seems the same. She is still alive, my mother, with or without judgment but always wanting to explain that my life was not the first one lived, nor the last. That there is always a solution to a problem that seems so insurmountable but not always the solution I am looking for. Why after all these years am I not satisfied by this? You book, you’re always telling a story, always characterizing, always plotting to find that part of me that may or may not exist. Love is fiction, baby. It comes and goes and grows and recedes and sometimes tells the truth. Entire worlds are crossed and uncrossed and canceled out due to marketing failures. We are human after all, and after. The most, the broadest, the widest, the largest, the ‘est’ is the problem. Nothing more. Face value, that’s what we’re afraid of. Giving is an act, treason a cause. Lying is a desperate attempt, loving a lunar landscape. Light my way, oh desperate one in the common of the more desperate among us. Designer fashion before it meant anything to me, those heels a vibrant color, a dizzying pattern, so mesmerizing. To my total naiveté I embraced my Aunt Lillian even when she banished me, implored me to take a nap when she just couldn’t take it any more. I never knew her struggle, the body she couldn’t own that owned her, a mind that tricked with sardonic humor to cover up all that she could not control. Today I bought a hat at a fancy department store, the same day I heard the news that she left this earthly plane with all of its faults and pleasures. I will miss her so. Farewell, my beauty. You will always make me remember to laugh in spite of it all, to dress like it was the last opportunity, to love like I never loved before because you showed me change, that change can happen against all odds. My remarkable, amazing, Aunt Lillian. Love love love... You forget it because you think you have to. You remember it because you don’t. You cling to it as the last bastion of humanity, rival government, too governed or no choice. How can it be, this and that and yours and mine and lengthy and short and desperate and divine and sacred and blasphemous? How can it keep coming back like a virus? What incredible views from down here, from that place we all travelled before but this time the destination is new. A touch, a glance, an impression so powerful it floats, like the gravity of a new planet undiscovered, brilliantly lit and surrounded by an atmosphere you no longer have to adjust to. Family, that strange and other worldly space nothing else can replace, to which nothing else compares. All the years that passed, all the oblivion and misconceptions, all the baggage you cannot check, has somehow disappeared. How seldom do we get the point, do we make sense of those things we tend to avoid and never conquer. We walk through the shadow of the past and wonder why we're so afraid to look back. Clarity, that's what we need as the years pile up like some head on collision. Steer us further from the closest exit, from the point of no return until there is no looking back any more. Set us free In this life, of this life, the only one I know. I stood before you like a child who could not comprehend your pain, your desperation, your plea for release. Who wouldn't understand your inability to let go, to concede, to accept the doctor's hardly indirect question that you are ready for the netherworld, that negative space, that parallel universe we'll never know but are destined for? How could you? No one is prepared for that. But your eyes pleading while your heart could not let go were convincing enough for that indelible signature when for a split second we wondered if we were ready, knew we weren't, knew we never would be. Goodbye dear mother. How can it be a year to the day tomorrow? How can it be that long that we haven't spoken, haven't argued, got pissed off about politics or the state of the world? I am in your likeness you and then again me and I feel one layer less, that vacancy, that minor to the major. But I promise in the days ahead, the weeks, months and years, I will try to release you. All my love. | AuthorWriter first. ArchivesMay 2012  CategoriesAll |
RSS Feed
