It’s in the silence
I felt the magnitude
of my mistakes,
the stumbling effect of a glass half empty,
the look of hatred dripping from your eyes.
It’s in the silence
I feel your ghost haunting my every step,
watching me crawl
through time’s joke,
bending down to kiss me goodbye
while I slip into a coma.
It’s in the silence
I spin webs through galaxies
connecting impossibilities.
I lie motionless, emotionless
In silence.
I fell asleep
Thinking of our past
The intricacies
Navigating through Life’s time
Laughing at my reasoning
And stupidity
Stumbling on what was right, i thought.
A thought,
Mistakes came and went
And my past is entwined
In your mistakes and victories.
It’s no longer right or wrong
It’s past that.
I saw you
It is is
Always is.
And your blue
tells me stories
of us
That still is.
Time separated
But memory brings past to present.
i fell asleep sometime in this
Wrapped in my memories, warmed from its arms and legs.
It is a Beautiful Disaster,
Blindly moving into
space
Towards the within
Which bleeds
Tears of catastrophes.
It is Beautiful
In that the eyes see
Something
Not seen,
Hands touch
Something
Not touched,
Lips speak
Something
Previously unspoken.
It is a Disaster
In that the push-pull could not cease,
The time spent staring
Into voids
are consuming,
The unspokens are louder
then voices.
A Beautiful Disaster
In that
As the ship sinks,
We can admire the construction,
The definitions,
The ocean
In which we find our way
To the bottom,
Breathe water
Into lungs
And surrender merciful to the inevitable.
It is a Beautiful Disaster,
In that I can
still smell you,
Taste you,
Love you
though we are separated by oceans
where I surrender in our void.
A bottle of pills
Ingested suicide
Your boy was only six.
He thanks you for the peanut butter sandwich
And getting him to kindergarten.
Do you think he wanted to tell you about school?
Do you think he wanted to break things outside?
But he spent his afternoon trying to fix you.
At six he’s saving you.
My boy, the world is big
Be that kid
with the blue eyes
Amazed.
Do you remember the ambulance?
I’m sure he does.
You being carted in. Big men
His Dad, angry, scared!
My boy, were you scared?
Probably,
For who’s going to make you peanut butter sandwiches?
Who’s going to talk about school?
You ingesting suicide.
Your boy found you selfless
Was that your plan?
Your selfish action.
Metallic blinds, dusty drawn
Filter light, morning fog
Silhouette abstract dark
Pronounced on the walls.
Perception of events
Mind makes real.
What happened an atmospheric ripping
of brilliant lightning
And it struck in one place.
You ol’ man, told me lightening doesn’t strike twice
in one place.
Liar
I proved you wrong
I have witnesses
Metallic blinds
And shadows
And pictures, and plants, and lamps, and sheets
And pillows, and clothes, and the desk
I have witnesses
Ghosts.
Hello World. Lately folks have been wondering what I’m doing to prepare for this race season in the mist of chaos and stormy weather. Well, when i find the moments to lift me head up from the hoppy goodness of my recovery drinks, I find some light and move. Yes move!
My training schedule (if ya want to call it that), consists of movement. If I’m not in the pool busting countless laps, or on my single speed hurting my legs till I feel no pain, I’m walking, working and thinking. Constantly moving in my mind and body. And this movement has given me some sort of grasp on sanity. Without movement, I would falter, lay down on the ground and shove off this mortal coil.
So my question today is this: How important is movement to you? Be it athletics, jobs, school, social scenes, music, writing and the list goes on. I think time is both are friend and enemy. We have time to slow it all down and take that time to recover, to think, to understand. But in a flash that time has passed us by and we sit with the sand slipping through our grasp. So, movement becomes of vital importance to engage in time’s reality. But for me, it’s a constant battle. I want what I want. And I want it now! Daily, I think about our fragile lives. Mine, my friends, family and yours. I think about our flashes of existence and want to hold on with all I have. And grab what is floating above me to pull it close to my heart. I want it! However, I’m searching for a flow, like a perfect wave or perfect single-track. It’s hard. FOR SURE!!!!
I keep moving! Today the pool – tomorrow the pool-the next day, my bike,then the gym. My arms ache and I can hardly lower my self to a chair because my legs wither in pain. I keep moving. Is it the podium step that will stop me and time for a second or two. Or is it the post event bliss, knowing I did all that I could, want to share a Ninkasi with me joy. Sitting in the sun, bloody, dirty, exhausted and completely satisfied . Time and movement no longer exist. We train hard. But I will race harder.
“So it’s stormy on the lake. Little waves our bodies break” – Bon Iver. I love this lyric. I imagine myself knee deep in a coastal lake. Wind driving from the south. Spring in the air. I’m standing alone as the small waves break waist high. I’m standing strong as the tumultuous environment tries to swallow me. I alone in my thoughts and actions. Can you see yourself there? Standing strong against a brutal beautiful environment. I imagine you there- steadfast, longing, loving. Black sphere eyes making sense of your world and the world that is in you………Can you lie in the water and drown yourself? Or do you have the will to breathe the warm semi-crisp spring air. Do you want something as much as you want to breathe?
I do! The motion is to find success on many levels. Sure I can ride a bike fast. Sure I can graduate from the towers of higher education. Sure I can love as big as the infinite universe going out towards the unknown and coming in towards the within. But the challenge lies in making these many aspects a singular motion towards satisfaction and a warm comforting breath at the end of the day.
I am large. I contain multitudes, writes Whitman. These most powerful words were spoken to me in a whisper sometime in the early morning after I pulled up the sheets and before I began to dream. I am large. I contain multitudes. For I am a poet, surfer, bike rider, swimmer, friend, brother, son, lover. I am large! Are you? Are you wiling to look in the mirror and say I contain multitudes. Realizing the millions of rolls you play in a day. It’s your turn reader………….to want something as much as you want to breathe, to stand in the stormy lake as waves break around your strong body.
I am with you reader. Bike in hand. Book in hand. Music in ear. I am smiling huge on my next downhill run, my next poem, my next lap. I’m charging….I’m laughing. Want to join in? Yes you do. Ha Let’s roll!
