Bougainvillea

I found you on such a simple day and in such a simple way.  Walking through the garden you were there among all the other flowers.  I was used to seeing them, used to talking to them, but with you I wasn't sure how to approach.  Then I just did. I came by and introduced myself suddenly to you and it took you by storm.  Isn't it curious that I'm filled with the same doubts and the same fears as when I first crossed your path?

Do you need sunshine or do you need rain?  I could give your roots so much to drink, give your petals so much sun to strive towards.  Would you mind if I shared with you some sweet words, or would I only disturb your tranquility? And tranquility is so hard to come by in these gardens, they're so close to the city.  When I see bad spots infesting your stem, would you care for my pruning, or are my sheers too sharp for such a delicate bougainvillea.  Could I visit you every morning with jolly and cheer, or would that undermine the hard work you put in each day to grow? Could I beg you to consider seeing the lot of land I'm cultivating, or have you already settled on this being the greenest of pastures here?

Maybe I should just wait. Eventually you'll have to give me a sign, we all thirst for something, there's got to be something I can do for you, got to be something I can do to show you I can be trusted. I know I'm a stranger and trust needs observation, but I just don't want to give you something you don't even need.  There's gotta be something you'ld want from only me. All the other potters know just what to do, and normally so do I.  But you, you're not just some bushflower, you're the bougainvillea that shines so brightly you paint my iris from brown to rose.

When we met, just as today, I have fewer answers than I do questions.  As there is only one answer.

Protons

I know what life is.

People talk about life the way they talk about a proton: They kind of understand it, they're pretty sure that it's on the net positive, but ultimately they've never seen one. They're left wondering if what they think, what they've theoried, what they've diagramed about life is in fact true, or will the generations to follow come to understand it better than we do.

The true despair is that just as with protons, since some people never truly directly experience life, they don't really know what it is, all they can observe is its effects - all they can do is say they're pretty sure that this thing right here is life.

I've come to know life. I've come to experience it directly. I am alive.  If nothing else, like Descartes, at least I am certain of this. But better than him, while I maybe still don't know my life's purpose, I know it has meaning.

Thank you, my life.

How many before

How many farewells before I leave?
How many I love yous before you stay?

How many sunrises before I catch one?
How many sunsets before I admit to addiction?

How many days before I finish what I have to?
How many days before I start what I want to?

How many nights before I concede fatigue?
How many nights before I concede mortality?

1 is too many.

Latches

I feel them in my back, these latches, snugly fitted with cord
It's a good thing I'm thick skinned, my flesh will not tear from my bones
When it tugs, when you tug, you will not let me leave this bed
When it tugs, when you tugs, you will not let me touch the ground

They pull me back from the cave, I want to hide there with my spoon
I can dig, carve out my own path and make this cave into a tunnel
On the other side, if you want, it could just be me and you
On the other side, if you follow, nobody else would find us

I know you wish to keep me here, I know what latches are for
But there's no home for me here, unless you can describe it
Let me go, let yourself go, to a place we've never seen
Let me go, let yourself go, to a place we haven't thought of

They don't hurt when you hold on, they hurt me when you tug
I don't want you to pull my back, I don't want you to pull me back
These latches, my latches, were put there for safe travel from misery
These latches, my latches, were fitted for your cord

From 'Peace is Every Step'

Real Love

We really have to understand the person we want to love. If our love is only a will to possess, it is not love. If we only think of ourselves, if we know only our own needs and ignore the needs of the other person, we cannot love. We must look deeply in order to see and understand the needs, aspirations, and suffering of the person we love. This is the ground of real love. You cannot resist loving another person when you really understand him or her.

From time to time, sit close to the one you love, hold his or her hand, and ask, "Darling, do I understand you enough? Or am I making you suffer? Please tell me so that I can learn to love you properly. I don't want to make you suffer, and if I do so because of my ignorance, please tell me so that I can love you better, so you can be happy." If you say this in a voice that communicates your real openness to understand, the other person may cry. That is a good sign, because it means the door of understanding is opening and everything will be possible again.

Maybe a father does not have time or is not brave enough to ask his son such a question. Then the love between them will not be as full as it could be. We need courage to ask these questions, but if we don't ask, the more we love, the more we may destroy the people we are trying to love. True love needs understanding. With understanding, the one we love will certainly flower.

-Thich Nhat Hanh

For us both, us all.

Peace is every step

Every step,
not every sit,
Not every wait,
not every tear.

Nor intentions,
Nor memories,
Nor leaps,
Nor running.

Just every step,
towards and away,
Peace is there,
Within us,

Not between us.

Bad milk joke

I should be reading. I should be writing. I should be doing. Doing more. Thinking about more. Instead it is always her and me. Me and her. It's been 3 weeks of what ifs. What if she said it was all a mistake. What if she realized it was me. What if she wasn't feeling any happier.

But she is happier. It isn't me. She's happier it isn't me.

From a distance I can't cloud her vision with questions. From a distance I can't add nervousness after every epic moment in their lives. From a distance the only words she has to hear from me are words of adoration; anger doesn't last long or travel far.  Anger hits the page and has no purpose anymore, like all shells. It carries the messy yolk to its target and then vanishes upon contact. The yolk, that which lies beneath my fragile anger, embarrassment and anguish, covers the target of my frustration in this mess.  I've covered her in much yolk. We see just at this moment that even the yolk of my demise has no purpose.  Yolk is not what she wears when I dream. Yolk is not what I wished for her to wear on our wedding day, nor our honeymoon. Given, I did  imagine her hair to be a mess that morning in the delivery room, but not like this. So this action, these actions of angry word hurling, they serve no purpose. She already hurts for herself, she will not hurt for me.

The anguish and suffering of never seeing you trying to love me again is futile, it has only one end. I must end this.

I must read. I must write. I must do more, think about more. There is more to life than me and you. Specifically there is the me and the you to deal with. I am lost in ambiguity: moral, religious, professional, romantic, physical, epistemological, you name it. I need to strictly redefine myself. I must. Just please know, please, that I really spent the last couple years defining myself as a part of your life. Maybe, when you think about it, that's why you never noticed me trying to define you as a part of mine.

All the same, the 1% of me that has no trace of you has now become 2%, just now by saying it. How could there be any girl who realizes it was me if there were no part of me that was actually me. Why, if a girl fell for me now, with all of you in me, she would have to be homo. Bad joke? I know, I had to strip this post of its grandiose meaning, its epic proportions of sheer devotedness to you, its utter desire to make you want to be with me. It's a poor start, but a start. I'm full of poor starts, huh?

Get it? 1%, 2%; homo?

In a good way

When I tell you something at the store
Only to turn and realize you're not there

When my pillow has gone soft
From taking in words about us

When being on time makes no sense
Because there's nothing else worth rushing to

When the world seems too large
Too much space between us

When the world seems too small
Nothing else worth seeing

When I wish you more happiness here
And less happiness there

When it achieves nothing
Not even me and you

When I know I love you
I am obsessed by you

The other side

There is no end to the depth of my misery so why do I prolong it? Why hurl shit at a flower in bloom? Why put words around pain to sneer all the words of joy? Why cover a page in whiteout when a new page makes a cleaner fresh start? Why make duplicate endings if the end is still the same? Why take away from you happiness with memories of my pain? Why ask where you are when you politely told me where you are going?

The ignorant and arrogant will tell you love is easy. Love is like money. I'm not good at the lottery so I hustle hard. See you on the other side.

Here or there

Where is it?

Where is the remorse, the need to undo the wrong? The desire to take away my pain, to clean and dress my wound. The feeling to rebuild my self-esteem. The humility to admit that I have human needs.

Where is the hug to make this bed feel less like daggers, the kiss to show me I was loved? The confession to my friends and family that my feelings were not unfounded, that you loved me too, that they might look at me as something more than a dreamer fool.  The decency to not guilt me for needing space now from this shame.

Where is the re-assessment, the tally of times I gave you my all? The apology for spitting on my words and leaving me with the sorrow that I didn't work hard enough for you - you, the thing I wanted most in life.  The hindsight that I gave you the space you asked for to find me. The gentle lie to make me feel like we were once a thing, like there was a place in your heart that was just me and you and that it beats?

It's not there.

It's not there because this is not remorse you feel. This is sorrow. You sorrow for what you have lost but not for he who has lost. Sorrow that you have had your last of me, not that I have had my last of you. Sorrow because you have hurt me not because I am hurt. Because I am not in your life, not because I am not influential in my own. Remorse is too expensive, and you know I can't pay you back, so why bother?

Why hug me if I will not hug back? Kiss me if I won't understand why? Tell me words that won't change my mind, or yours? You would not put these conditions before a baby or a dog, but before me there are only ultimatums. Before me there is only the condition that I love you and respect your love for another. Only from the well of my sorrow do the waters of remorse flow.

You don't wish to fix me, it shows. Just as it shows that I don't wish to fix myself. All I do is lash this anger at you instead of love at myself. I turn you into the villain of my love story instead of the plot, setting, main character and premise that you were.  I've boiled the water and now you will never cross this river between us. I will never reach you with these words. More things that I do wrong. I'm even ashamed of my disappointment in you. Where is the stoic guru, the peaceful buddha-like teacher, the warrior poet?

So I am here.

Curled in a ball hugging myself, kissing myself, sewing myself together but draining the fluid go. Telling myself all of these things and telling myself that you believe them. Telling myself that I did good, that I loved you too much not too little. That you'll see, you'll see it should have been me. You'll know that my words were actions, that my inaction was action, that I sacrificed the joy of taking your body for the greater joy of sharing it. You'll come to see all of this in me. But how could you?

You are over there.

Tie My Hands

[Lil Wayne]
Yeah
Some say tragedy's hard to get over
But sometimes that tragedy means it's over
Soldier, from the academy league of rollers
I deny being down though they seem to hold us
My, shoulders are strong I prove 'em wrong
I ain't doing nothing but moving on
Let the truth be known
But they talked that freedom at us
And didn't even leave a ladder, damn

[Robin Thicke]
I work at the corner store
We all got problems, problems
No one's gonna fly down low
No one's gonna save us now
How you feel you're not alone
We're all just jealous, jealous
We don't reach the sky no more
We just can't overcome, no

[Chorus: Robin Thicke]
You tie my hands what am I gonna be?
What have I done so bad?
What is my destiny?
You tie my hands what I am I suppose to see?
What have I done so bad?
What am I gonna be?

[Lil Wayne]
I, knock on the door, hope isn't home
Fate's not around the lucks all gone
Don't ask me what's wrong ask me what's right
And I'ma tell you what's life, and did you know?
I lost everything, but I ain't the only the one
First came the hurricane, then the morning sun
Excuse me if I'm on one
And don't trip if I light one, I walk a tight one
They try tell me keep my eyes open
My whole city underwater, some people still floatin'
And they wonder why black people still voting
'Cause your president still choking
Take away the football team, the basketball team
And all we got is me to represent New Orleans, shit
No governor, no help from the mayor
Just a steady beating heart and a wish and a prayer

[Robin Thicke]
These friends they come and go
But I got family, family
These kids so fast they grow
They learn so quickly now
That there's nowhere to go
That there's no future, future
Don't make this here so low
And we can't overcome, no

[Chorus]

[Lil Wayne]
And if you come from under that water then there's fresh air
Just breathe baby God's got a blessing to spare
Yes I know the process is so much stress
But it's the progress that feels the best
'Cause I came from the projects straight to success and you're next
So try, they can't steal your pride it's inside
Then find it and keep on grinding
'Cause in every dark cloud there's a silver lining
I know...

[Lil Wayne talking outro]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
See right now we just riding on love
A shot in the dark
We ain't tryin to do nothing but hit the heart
We need love
That's all y'all, that's all

[Chorus x2]

Yeah, Born right here in the USA
But, due to tragedy looked on by the whole world as a refugee
So accept my emotion
Do not take it as an offensive gesture
It's just the epitome of my soul
And I must be me
We got spirit y'all, we got spirit
We got soul y'all, we got soul
They don't want us to see, but we already know

Recall

I am not my past. I am not my future. I am only my present. I am now, and so:

I am wounded
I am restless yet fatigued
I achieve nothing
I am in bed with bad thoughts
I am unemployed
I am out of shape
I need to change

But...
I am gentle rain drops
I am finding peace
I am free from obligation
I am understanding myself
I am breathing in the clouds
I am a writer

But...
I am naked
I am alone
I am far from my wishes
I am laying down
I am late
I need to get up again

But...

890+

I know why you removed me
I share in that torture
-
Peace has not come from self-preservation

You were always hoping for my action
I was always waiting for yours
-
Patience and faith have equal value

Every time you sent a signal I saw only smoke
Every time I took action you heard only words
-
Timing is everything, only if we are nothing

You wish I could see you through this
I wish you could see me through that
-
If hindsight is clarity then I will live in your past until you see me

You wanted space so you could choose me
You wanted the decision to be yours
-
I really did give you everything

Significance has turned to secrecy
Anger to anguish
-
Things don't end, they manifest

I've brought up the past enough times to know it will sink my mind
You've pushed away our future enough to know it won't leave your mind
-
The present alone is our ship; I can conjure a cool breeze if you will make a sail

I can only see you when my eyes are open
You can only hear me when your eyes are closed
-
Is it any wonder why we resorted to our hands?

We grasped at each other to build memories
Now we grasp at memories to build each other
-
Gravity is the greatest friend to brick and mortar

We need time apart
We need time together
-
Each other's necessity

You've read every word
Well so have I
-
I never stopped checking, nor should you

Can't stop counting the days
Can't stop counting on days
-
We will always add up