Disturbed

24 Aug

In a word:
I am disturbed

Shocked
doesn’t cut it
Disgusted
comes close
Disturbed…
Barely scratches the surface

Subversive.
Flames thrown into the furnace
Patriotism turns to hatred,
rises to the surface.

We are a disturbed people.

Appalled, horrified
Despair
Waves of despair
Intensify our rage
Our collective prayer

For peace, for equality
In a society
Diseased by inaction
Let this be our
Call to action

Indifference

23 Aug

Indifference

neither love nor hate

Insidious indifference takes

no action.

Blind to injustice, indifference

insists on ignorance.

 

Our Indifference

seems inevitable.

It perpetuates

the status quo.

Society retains the

Powers that Be.

Seduces us to injustice.

 

My Indifference is

Insidious.

It creeps into my soul

Seeps into my blood

Insinuates, propagates

A lie: “You are without blame”

 

You

We

Me

Are flabby

pretending

weak-eyed Devils.[1]

 

[1] Conrad, Joseph. Heart of Darkness. Seattle, AmazonClassics, 2017, p. 16.

Search for nothing

23 Aug

Who am I?

Who are you?

I am on the road.

I found myself when I stopped looking. I was drinking lukewarm, black coffee. Coffee sloshed over the rim, into the saucer. I made 3 coffee rings, imprinted them onto the cover of my Moleskine journal. I pretended they had gotten there by accident. Three coffee rings feels balanced. I learned the rule of three’s, of odd numbers, in high school art class. Create the appearance of authenticity, of an accident of nature, by creating pairs of odd numbers. I wrote in this journal. I realized that by searching for who I was, by wanting to be whole, to feel whole, I would never find an ending or reach my goal. The goal was my journey into my soul. I continually change, every day. How could I find myself if the “me” today was not the “me” that was yesterday? Would not be the same “me” tomorrow or Sunday? I found that I could not be found if I was already here. I found myself when I chose to stop searching, when I accepted that there was nothing to find that I did not already have, that I did not already know.

Civilized

23 Aug

If I am civilized, am I free?

Or does society

define what freedom

should mean to me?

 

Civilization says: “We must survive.

Hand over your Self

your Soul, your Authenticity.

Do this, for the sake of the

Community.”

 

I want to be free

within Society.

How?

Maybe I will write,

say whatever I want…

but to be free

I must command boatloads

of Money.

 

So I’ll be Uncivilized,

I will be free.

Because I have capital,

I will pay to be free.

 

Instead of Society,

I’ll be a slave to Money.

Room

15 Jul

I am frozen.
What I’ve chosen,
is to be dead
inside.

Things.
Give them all to me.
Pile them on,
One
on top
of the other.

More,
more things.
Stuff them inside
until there is
no
more
room.

Until there is
no room
to breath.
No space
to just be sad.
To be lonely.
To be mad.

No space
to be numb.
No space
to become
anything.

Only room to be
everything.

Not sure

30 Jun

June 21, 2016

Paralyzed? No.
Numb? Maybe
Excited? Not really.

Forward
not backwards,
I’m moving.

To you? From you?
Not sure.
Looking for a cue.
Not sure
if I’m waiting for it
to come from you.

Or from me.
I just want to be free.

I’m moving.
Forward.
Putting pieces of us
in a box.

Carry it with me.
Leave it behind.
Maybe I’ll lose it,
or maybe,
I’ll continue to
carry it inside.

Unbound

28 Jun

Here. I am here.
You, you are over there.
Standing, moving, running.
Away from and to,
into and through.

Floating. I am floating.
On the currents.
To and fro
I go.
Into, away from you,
from me.
Back to you, away from you.
Into something new.

Over there, you’re over
there.
I, I am everywhere.
In the trees,
in my skin.
I do not freeze,
I begin.

I am like the leaves.
Falling, falling.
Spun around and around.
Spinning to the ground.
Into the earth
I disintegrate.
Back into the dirt.

Back into the earth.
Floating in between everything.
I become everything,
am everything.

And nothing

Only floating,
floating,
floating.

In the earth
On the wind.
On the current.

I am lost, and I am
found.
Without a sound,
I come unbound.

Dying Star

13 Jun

My heart is a dying star,
when I walk to the bus
stop, the mist & fog
dissolve around and
Into me.

The concrete sidewalk
catches the pieces
falling from me,
absorb back into me.
I become a mass of broken pieces.
my mass outweighs the light.

At the bus stop,
the star reaches for my thoughts.
Swallows them
and those of the people around me.
They disappear,
I breathe them in.

Wind rushes past me.
Growing louder
at my center, it hums and screams
I can hear it protest
as it careens into
me, into the star
into the widening Space.
It is lost with a hiss.

Walking to work, I
I am no longer a dying star.
I am a Space – a black hole.

Everything gravitates towards me.
Eyes, ears, cars
exhaust
mist, fog, hands.
Everything disintegrates into me,
becomes a part of me.

Light and mist gain speed.
They run in.
The Space widens,
no longer just a black hole.
Rather a deep, black, living hole.
a being
a thing. No beginning,
no end.

Pass by a window,
look at it.
It’s a hole without edges –
I imagine I look at an enigma.

The Space is me.

My fingers are black.
My eyes are replaced
by fathomless cavities.
I am no longer
me.
really.

Only a dying star,
a black hole.
pain, hope, loss, love
sadness
become nothing.
I become nothing.
Am Nothing
Nothing.

but a dying star.

Wishes

8 Jun

I’ve made so many wishes. So many wishes at 11:11. How many times have my feet hovered just above the car’s floor as we drove over a bridge? Muscles tensing to hold onto a wish until we made it to the other side. How many times have I held my breath while throttling through a tunnel and momentary darkness? Wishing my wish would come true and that we’d collide. Too many wishes I’ve hung in the air, to float on the wind, through my hair. Hanging in the air, they seem to carelessly flutter around and around, never really taking hold of anything. Aimlessly traveling, hoping, wishing to be found.

Wish for love, wish for kindness.
Wish for connection.
Hope for a call, or a text.
Hope for a sigh.
Wish for wanting. Want for wanting.
Subscribe to loneliness.
Hate it.
Desperately desire it.
Can’t live without it.
Yearn to be misunderstood
in understanding.
Love to be misjudged
and comprehended.

Ending

7 Jun

It’s me.
Click.
Silence.
Dial tone.

Walk over, sit down
No, wait.
Pace,
this out.

Knock
knock, knock.
Who is it?
It’s me.

Lock.

Creak, crash
Boom.
Shudder, lurch.

Collide
into ______.

Sigh, collapse
fall down
come in.

Let’s begin,
again.