today was the first of august
and the light swam 'round me, dancing softly as the curtains would upon the frames of the open windows
the dusk poured through my frame, as I pedaled my bicycle passionately
enthralled by the motion of gliding
in the blue surrender
of night falling -
my palms graced the handlebars,
car keys jingled delightfully, bound to my pants' belt loop
and when I arrived from this small journey
I felt the cool rain of melancholy
drizzle
upon my brain -
it was time to drive,
from Aspen, back west on 82
yet, not all the way to the end of the valley -
rather, just down the way, a mere twenty minutes.
today was the first day of calm -
the first day of acceptance,
of full, piercing realization.
today, I realized how dearly close
I am to beginning a new school year, over again.
memories of learning,
discussions with Klaus or Joseph,
it all appears to me
as this humming reverie
so sweet and joyous and radiant
I could not be more filled with excitement to begin again.
august will allow me to begin again.
tomorrow morning, I will focus on my art, I will make
I will organize, I will create
I will mentally align
I will become entranced by my inspirations
and form new reactions and ways of expressing
I will express
I will invent
I will express
I will begin.
Saturday, August 1, 2015
Thursday, May 28, 2015
for future nostalgias
we cannot live deep in the past
for we will miss what is deeply present, surrounding us, in this realm of now
and yet we cannot live deep in the future
for those moments become stretched and distorted
like the glowing crimson R of the subway train I need to catch,
appearing as more of a D,
perhaps to prompt me :
Drive on.
-
when our lives all end, our voices speak our last words
it is those fragments of memory
which eternalize us.
it is those photographs, those letters,
those Instagrams, those messages
those intensely clear moments of awareness
that you, my love, are alive, breathing.
you are as you are,
not as you once were,
and not as you will once be.
simply you, now, here, quiet, breathing - still.
for we will miss what is deeply present, surrounding us, in this realm of now
and yet we cannot live deep in the future
for those moments become stretched and distorted
like the glowing crimson R of the subway train I need to catch,
appearing as more of a D,
perhaps to prompt me :
Drive on.
-
when our lives all end, our voices speak our last words
it is those fragments of memory
which eternalize us.
it is those photographs, those letters,
those Instagrams, those messages
those intensely clear moments of awareness
that you, my love, are alive, breathing.
you are as you are,
not as you once were,
and not as you will once be.
simply you, now, here, quiet, breathing - still.
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