Wednesday, November 23, 2011

unspoken

The warm sun and cool breeze flow over me as the distant train fills my ears. Thoughts of everything and nothing possess my quiet brain. Sights of green and blue, of me and you.  Emotions of love and hope. The faith you'd always be near. All of this as my breath subsides. All of this keeps me from wanting to die. Your sweet grin. Our tasteful sin. It's all worth every broken glass and left behind dream. It's all something but not what it seemed. We used to know, but knowing is showing that ignorance is vast. There's nothing more than barking dogs and trains flying past. There's nothing more than the crow calling my name. My hair is caressed and ruffled by the pushing wind. Asking me to move and go to that place within.  That place I find is my now, my here, my way, and how. The flag flaps as fast as the sparrows wings. All of it nothing and all at once the beauty of your eyes when they've just awoken. The beauty of words that can never be spoken. The trees know it and the wet ground can taste it. Only they know what we know of nothing, only the flock knows the path. Only freedom can be found in the gusts that lift us up with our open wings. Only this, my heart sings.

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Candid Acts

Candid is always best. Whether it be a photograph; a moment between friends, or face you make during good sex. When we lose that idea of looking right and become the moment we're in. That is where life and love and the pursuit of happiness exist. It's in those little moments when our mind is silenced and we allow ourselves to become that look, that laugh, that tear, that sigh.  I can preach from my pulpit about knowing it with all my heart.  But to what end? With what point? I've surely got no idea how to get there. I simply want to cherish the fact it's there.  But as it is you can't really acknowledge that candid truth without falsifying it somehow. As soon as it's seen it's gone like that light you see in her eye. So I don't know what I'm trying to say or even why. I think maybe that candid truth is our only truth or our only lie for that matter... Maybe that's god or that spirit of the universe we all know to be there? That true lie some of us know so well we call ourselves agnostic or atheist in order to piss off the daddy of our own conciousness. Maybe god isn't meant to be seen? Maybe it isnt meant to be acknowledged, understood, loved, hated or even ignored but maybe just a candid realism we shouldn't try to see but only try to be.