Home » Posts tagged 'love' (Page 37)
At the end of the day
I am nothing but
sweat and fat
and bad breath
and poems
strewn out among sage
and corkscrew, lighter, and coffee mug
wine and love for it all
all the things that I have carried
and still carry till this day
another night
another light
twinkling in the Friday night hysteria
of weekend fun
unseen.
I fell in love with myself
over and over and out again
until all there was was an
Open Cavity
beat beat beating down the block
beating and always beating
even when it stopped
I fell in love with myself and
that Rocket-shaped mailbox.
Something is in the air today
And it’s not bad or good
Insidious perhaps
In fact I can hardly feel it
But it’s there, breathing
Be cautious whispers wind
Down the curvature of my spine
Into my core, something
Yes something is in the air today
There has to be a better way
than all this bitter pain
and suffering that after a while
no longer feels much like
pain and suffering but rather
mute normalcy of the day
which never really fully ends
and on into the night
which never allows for proper sleep.
Perhaps a song will help
my friend, for now
I think it’s for the best.
At the end of this life
if you can say
I did some things
I really, really enjoyed
and helped some people
along the way
all the while
laboring loves labyrinth
then that
I’d say
is a beautiful life.
We are all our own genius
aren’t we? Self-help tells us
to be selfless while the world
tells us to be tough
slowly, gradually
like a surgeon’s steel
picking apart pieces
of our sanity like a game
of Operation. We are all
children at heart, aren’t we?
When our nose’s glow red
and hairs stand on end
while our souls ignite like kerosene
flailing our arms in ecstasy
remembering the truth which
from birth was wiped clean
like a board of chalk.
We’re always trying to get that
message back, that message which
in a world or man and steel and greed
can only exist as long as love at first sight
where in the morning she lay
soundlessly asleep, bound to no one
her genius in my memory forever.
However you get up and out of bed
or off the sidewalk
however you dig yourself
out of the grave is commendable.
And if you choose nothing
that too is just as valid
as choosing something.
I see far too many people
driving themselves mad
with work and love
and money and power
and fitness and greed and guilt
trying to fit into some sort of
idea they’re bred to believe
will fix them when really it won’t.
They don’t need to be fixed
or loved or loathed or accepted.
They just need to listen.
Listen to the air.
Listen to the ice crack when hot water hits.
Listen to the sea spray.
But I know nothing really.
All I know is what I see and what I see
is beautiful and diseased and delicate
like a rose petal or a dandelion flower
plucked from the earth by a child
in the outfield of a baseball diamond
wanting nothing more than to drift away
with the seeds he’s blown to anywhere else.
However getting out of bed
or the sidewalk or gutter is the first step
and the rest well, the rest is just —
up to you I guess.
While everyone was looking around
for celebrities and stars
I was looking at em all
and wonderin
with fire burning in my eyes
what it was they couldn’t see
that I saw so vividly in all of them.
She let herself go
in all the beautiful ways
she was destined to
As I sunk deeper under bedsheet
wanting nothing more than to disappear
alone in the darkness
She was painting all her daydreams
in pale blue watercolor
twirling her brush between strokes
Like I had watched her do
so many countless nights before
like the time she painted me nude
And I watched her beauty unfold
like a single blooming lotus flower
adrift on a swamp at dawn
We mustn’t shy away from fear
but rather dive face first
into it’s claws letting it tear our flesh
from cheek to chin and gnaw
on our skulls if not only to
release ourselves from our mind
whose eye is so often filled with fear.
Words Of An Average White Male 