on the other
It seems that at times, there’s nothing to say.
There’s simply nothing to put out or implicate. There’s only a simple void in space and for all intents and purposes, it was placed there on purpose and only for our enjoyment. While some cringe at the notion of their ability to write being blocked, I embrace it and if anything, I take long walks on the beach with it if only to allow some breathing room to prove its point to me.
At times, it’s a pretty gloomy situation when your brain travels beyond what your eyes, ears, and lips can pursue. Of late, I’ve found myself in the center of a whirlwind of thought patterns, ideas, and small controversies. I know for some, it’s natural to find themselves surrounded in creativity, and with the motivation to create words that inspire the very sense of who we are, or who we have chosen to become. While others, and this is taking a kind of risk, those moments never explicitly experience themselves within you and the moments slip and slide their way in and outside the perimeter.
Or do they?
This is one of those moments. I have fallen in love with myself and the world that oftentimes comforts me in further understanding my role. Life, as I’ve known it, is full of surprises and if I recall correctly, there’s a party in everyone of us.
And yes, I’m still standing proud and choosing my words wisely because when it’s time to get back on the horse, the horse had better get a running start.
Is this possible?
This past Labor Day, ahumph!, I mean, Memorial Day weekend, I spent some time near a beach with my best friend. It was a real nice experience and the days that we spent there simply lathered away the moments and years before our arrival.
That was a good thing.
The weather wasn’t unbearable, and the people scattered to and fro didn’t harm us in our maneuvering in and throughout the cobblestone streets. I woke up to breakfast being made by the B&B staff, and sea salt simmered from the beach, to the stores layering the streets, to the ever-present state of bliss being passed from one hello to another.
Yes, bliss does exist.
In either case, life was grand and if there’s any proof of a God, it existed in that place and in that time.
or the time
upon a star
at the center
You should see the way the sun folds into the darkness
When it thinks no one is watching
Unmasking brilliantly and giving in to full moon rising
In it’s closing hour
Much like the way your gentle thunder succumbs
To my beckoning
Just before the tide rushes to shore
I watched it unveil to a distant calling
Renouncing its claim to the openness
And thought of you.
I think it noticed my being there
But I didn’t care
I liked being exposed, just as it was
Watching as it undressed itself before me
I am your moon,
And you, my sun
Witnessing your beauty as it buffs in splendor all day
Waiting on your surrender to fall into me at night
(This poem is a true testament to the connected-ness of not only our love for the beautiful people in our lives, but also the many layers that often accompany that love. It’s a poem that flows and vibes like it was always there…waiting to be read).
on my hand
of the past
Often, we find ourselves in a type of crossroads, where, if you’re lucky enough, one is able to see a distant light at the end of the proverbial tunnel dictating our next move. If anything, we’re given a free token to take the road most traveled. But, how can we be sure that the road most traveled is our best choice? How can we undoubtedly know that by choosing to go left, as oppose to choosing right, is in fact going to land us smack dab in the center of our hopes and dreams.
In my opinion, we will never know.
I don’t believe we’ll ever get through the noise of life until we not only realign our ears and close our mouths, but our minds–you know, the other 90%–to the layers that ultimately allow us to grow. It is only when we’ve proven to ourselves that the crazy part of lives is in some ways more sane than our more respectable normal aspects…well, some say that everything is everything eh? There’s a type of closeness of everything that I feel on a daily basis.
There are plenty of deviants in the world and for the most part, we shun them off to the nearest crazy house in hopes that whatever trace they’ve left for us to deal with will be simply washed away. Well, I’m here to tell you that the deviants are the least of our problems. The infamous line has been blurred some time ago and if you ask me, we’re all a few paychecks away from being that guy or gal you pass so aggressively on the streets.