Thursday, December 16, 2004

luvly sunshine

another day, another way
to tell you how the stars faded
and the sky turned into a rhyme
with the clouds jaded

and like a firefly
the sun came by
and peeked it self over the hill
and held a lullaby
in the sake of you

singing a song
too many words to know it all
too much feeling to let you understand
the curves and depths of this bend

that cupped the first sunshine
and made this world mine
rising and falling to the colors of flowers

might we dance
might we prance
the ways that this sunshine is
all of us.

mary

synchonization.

Monday, December 13, 2004

Have Heart

When you meet me, don’t look at my physical body. Don’t look at the person I paint with my words. Look at my soul.


This is another filling of blank slate.

Here is a story:

Meet Heart. Smile at her, but she won’t look. Talk to her and she won’t listen. Poke her but she won’t respond. There is something deadly missing in her Heart. But she is Heart. Empty, dry from the past droughts and tearing away of top soil to reveal the cracked portions and the collapsing of dry dust because there is no reason to stay up if nothing is going to grow upon it. She can see right through you and your sick intentions to take her. She does not want to be affected by someone so fake, so unreal, and so full of lies.

Heart once had, and always will have a heart, the most beautiful sky-high heart. She would stand in the rain and look up to the heavens catching every drop in the sky. Slowly they fell because she was not trying to get anywhere, but instead was waiting for something, someone, anything. And beauty became beautiful and then wonderful, and then joyful.

While everyone was around was trying to get somewhere, someone, something, they rushed right through her and around her. But she was unwavering and did not even see this swirl. Instead she had her eyes set on the sky and the rain that fell, and fell, and fell. She felt the drops, each one she watched and then felt the splat. She predicted each part of her body getting wet by the fall of a small drop, that when joined with others can end the world.

One day, the rain stopped and the skies cleared so slowly she was able to catch the last drop in her hand. And softly she saw the rays divide by the last of the clouds. And the last of the clouds broke apart and flew quietly away to the side until they had regained their strength to cry once again.

Slowly she looked down. In front of her, she met the eyes of a man whose smile came directly from curves of the clouds. His eyes were the ocean, and though they were brown, the reflection of the water from the ocean, no matter how far away, where reflected upon his eyes. His blue eyes were where she was waiting for. She wanted to swim in those eyes, in those dark sparkly eyes, and she wanted to smile like him.

She took one step forward, trying, in a stroke of regret that she had moved from the spot that, to her, she had not left for such a long time. She watched her feet in curiosity of the sheer easy movement it conducted from a simple thought in her mind, this initiation that was from a simple plan to reach him.

Slowly, from what was a fuzzy image of the rest of him, his body appeared, and his eyes the more wonderful and understanding. His gaze never changing and his smile the same.

And she walked closer, and closer, each step harder and harder, yielding more question, more effort, more initiation, more reliance, more belief, more decision.

But just as it always happens in every dream, never in reality right away, but always soon enough because we are finding, he leaves. He disappears. His smile collapses, his eyes taken away by the sun’s ray, and his body lost to blank space, filled by what was behind.

He is gone.

Heart now fears, fears more than anything. She had made the wrong choice to look away from the sun, the wrong choice to walk toward him. Because through he had not really disappeared, he was not as he had appeared. He was always someone else, and he always had other intentions for Heart. He was always hiding something, always afraid and afraid to admit it that he was not himself when he was with her.

He was telling her lies each step as she took toward him, and his image was clearer, this fake image. But the truth never created his inside. And the inside it what holds him up, so he disappeared. He could not understand how he could disappear from her heart so quickly, from her life so quickly. It was because he was never there, his heart was never truly with Heart, and hers was with his, but because each step was on the bases of fakery, each step was not a step taken.

Heart knows not to give up, but Heart knows more than anything that in this world where image is important, in this world where people say things but never apply them to their own life, in this world where books are read but never understood except for a test, in this world, it will take her a long time to find him.

But she will wait, and watch the rain like she always had. She will not believe that time flies and she will not believe that there is time. Heart will do as she thinks she will and her best in everything in life.

And when she has no one to dance with, she will dance with the redwood trees, the stars as a disco ball, and the world her dance floor.

And when she has no one to talk to because everyone is on their cell phone jabbering for such a long time, she will write everyday on a blank slate with anything she can find to tell you a story about Heart.

mary

I will not tell you it is me, because it is other people as well.

To quote my friend Ramy: "I want to be with someone who will make me be the best person I can be when I am around him/her."

Been writing more than normal, the year is ending and I've got a few things to clear up with myself before I can let important things go completely.

Sunday, December 12, 2004

fortified

Fortified, speaking your mind
Quotes, memory dragging you deep into
Sensory
Enjoyment hunger rights
Love, guilt death

The things you see while walking down the street
Of a name brand city
Colors, bright, attention, fast, quick, glances fit

There’s two sides to this city
one side is the happy wealth, the plethora
The smiles, the cheery sparkle

On the other side are the hungry
who spend their days figuring out ways for the next meal
And count the ways they can ask for money politely

How can a city be so two different countries?
How can happiness measured?

“a nickel and a smile goes a long while”

there is wisdom in that very sentence,
a silent begging, but a beautiful poetry
what life should mean

everything should mean something
everything

feel more. Feel. Feel. Feel.

mary

Repetition is the key in a repeating world, but feeling should not be a repetition. You feel; just let it take you so that you never become numb.

Tuesday, December 07, 2004

Lonesome

Lonesome

All on the lonesome, a heart in the whisper
A light flickering far away, a signal to start the day’s
work at night and begin the approach
of infinity

Take on the sadness
Throw away your mask of fear and persona
Look into his eyes
And forgive the world for its wrong

Look into the eyes of the moon
for hope and simple tunes of a song
A ballad that rings forever true with its voice, tune

The layers of reflection onto the glass
It takes on any light and reintroduces it into the world
In another reality, another tonality with
the busy life behind it
And the peace and quiet of an empty cold room

With people that talk about their dreams
And their beliefs, whispering their lacking
And joys, their sharing of situations and difficulties
In all of speech and weather and roads

Thinking about the emptiness you must feel as well
Driving home in the darkness to a song
watching the cars pass by like they have a direction to go
And thoughts passing through your mind like the images
running through your eyes and meaning nothing

Because it is all the same, it has got meaning, but not what you are looking for
It is all color and memory
but it is not what makes you complete.

If there’s a wish I can make in the world, it would be
not for voice, or feeling, for fullness, or joy
It would not be for money or friends, for skies or angels to save me,
It would not be paradise or the most beautiful sunset
It would not be for the most basic things, or the most infinite supply
It would be for you to find that love you are searching for

Driving late at night listening to the same song
All on a lonesome, you’ll have someone to think about
Someone to remember and smile to,
Someone to make wishes to on the drive home.

Someone, someone, someone like you.

mary

Because we all deserve love.