Peaceful Moments

Peaceful Moments. One, two, three.

Peaceful moments
Are like pleasant dreams
Few and far between
I stand in the center
Of a labyrinth
Crowned in trees
A bird sings
One, two, three
Fall back onto my knees
Crawling home to reality

When inner peace is random and infrequent, and turmoil is the norm, we are a collection of bad decisions. We underestimate the ego boost conflict gives, and serenity is confused with surrendering to an enemy. Who am I without a fight? Probably a better person.

I want inner peace and outer quiet to be my normal. I want chaos and restlessness to remain on the fringe. I don’t know what that looks like, and I can’t name the feeling. However, when I am absolutely present, such as writing this now, I owe nothing and am owed nothing. One, two, three.

IMAGE: Santiago Caruso

Cement

Cement

Descending stairs
In the cement dark
Not cold but stifling air
Cannot see one cement stair
Would a florescent flicker show
Blood unknown?
Splattered, smeared
A red cascade rolled out for
A VIP
A guest of honor
Keep out any light
Guess the way down
Cement wall
Cement hall
Inside of anywhere
Cannot see a single thing
The smell of a diamond ring
The unseen bloody scene
Cannot keep cement clean
The descending cement stairs
Blindly leading anywhere

I don’t know where I got the imagery from. But there it was in my head so I wrote it down. 

IMAGE: darksilenceinsuburbia: Maryam Savoji. Steps Towards Love.     Saatchi Gallery

Importance

Importance

I was important once.
Then I was pushed
Into the vacuum of
Unimportance.
Never to be seen again.
I bet my life
On my self aggrandizement.
I thought I would be safe
As long as I was important.
The world finally had enough
And told me the truth
Then let me have it.
The world tried humbling me before
With little success.
The time was now.
Besides, importance depends on
Who you ask.
Unhealthy ego equals
Unhealthy attitudes equals
Unhealthy attachments.
I surrender from here,
And am important to unimportance.

IMAGE: ?

Captured Mist

Captured Mist

I don’t have a who I am
unless you can capture mist
I’m something different
day to day
I’m someone you know
but have never met
A finger print
depends on which finger
Blood color
depends on where in the body
I pick my words
as I pick who I talk to
I am not finite
I have no definition
No direction
Liquid is more solid
than my name
Who I am is anybody
There is no who I am
I have as many faces
as I do cells
I start and stop
I am just here
Thick, damp, and everywhere
With nowhere to go

This is a season of feeling cold, stagnant, and dormant. So much of what I loved didn’t seed this year. Since I nurture no life on the ground, I exist only as air water. I fuck with visibility, I’m clammy, and my life depends on external requirements like temperature. I am merely atmosphere. The only positive prediction I have is that this winter will be short. I won’t be hibernating, just hunkering down.

IMAGE: Woman, oil on canvas, 1992, Alison Van Pelt

Thank You, Erwin

A day is not a year…

Thank you, Erwin
I needed that
Got through the night
On half a glass
I think it’s my timing
Bringing me down
I thought tomorrow
Would come around
Thanks, again
For looking out for me
And the violence of the seas
Downtown is changing
There’s nowhere left to go
The outskirts are aching
But at least we can catch a show
Work hasn’t been much these days
A glass is all I have to raise
Wiping up spills
Picking off gum
Is what I have left of fun
Thank you, Erwin
For the paper cup
It hides the color of my luck
When I get home
And hydrate my fear
I’ll exhale
A day is not a year
A day is not a year

IMAGE: Adam Schmid, “Danbo And The Long Walk Home” – Phoenix Rising Photography

Sinking Deeper

Sinking Deeper

Sinking deeper into the sea
The cement blocks are
External burdens
The rope wrapped around me
IS me
If I can release myself
From myself,
I can cut away the weights at my feet
And unravel myself free
Burdens are fixed
A limited mind can be tricked
The objective of blocks
Is to anchor me to the aphotic bottom
The rope is my imagined constraint
The rope alone drowns me
The blocks alone drown themselves
One hand loose, and I go up

Changing oneself is the obvious solution. Why do we miss it so easily? Perhaps because the weight of our circumstances is more noticeable, even painful. The ties that bind are uncomfortable, constraining, and annoying, but weight hurts, exhausts, controls the direction.

To cut off life’s problems is also swift. Escaping from personal knots can take a long time. For peace of mind you don’t get to do what’s easy first, then what’s hard.

Talk about keeping us humble.