why do we always have the knowing and the naming,
but when it comes to forever,
we are so quick to gives these up; even if we know what we lose
each time
we compromise
the things
that make us alight with
the glow of knowing/ being known.
Sunday, May 02, 2010
when you go,
I have not been as prepared
as I should have been.
and all along
I thought the walls
were carefully
(oh so carefully)
put in place.
So now I delicately select
the eye color
that I think this moment should have.
I shape the face on the mannequin.
I push and pull the clay, my hands covered
in
the making.
I wield the tools to gouge the smile, sad and slightly
bent,
maybe upside down.
and now that I have made and created and breathed life into this.
I order the walls to come up and fill the spaces where the clay insisted on
such things as breathing.
and all along, I wanted walls to weigh down
and protect against the things that fly.
and all along all I have ever loved is the idea of wings.
sway,
conflict.
who wins in this petty war,
there are stars, and hearts.
who will win the great wars,
if these modest bickerings end in such great endings.
what will be left of
whatever worlds
we decide are worth
keeping whole.
but perhaps it is in the
grenades and incinerations
that we shape a new
destructed place.
perhaps this destruction is what is needed to
be
renewed.
So the years pass,
so slowly but with the small molasses movement
deceptive
and you don't even realize
that you are wanted.
With (out) in
So is what you do counted,
when your mind is rebelling.
Let me feel. Let me feel. Your body screams, twisting in the pain of withdrawal.
Let me be.
but you take it, this weak weak heart,
and
make it beat in an unfamiliar way, unnaturally. Be this, you say, shaking it angrily, surprised and betrayed when it,
shakily,
refuses,
weakly trying to return to its joy.
If I had to guess I would say that it is fighting in its way.
You are angry that it has decided to
not pay attention to your worrisome
whisps of control.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)