Saturday, June 26, 2010

Contending with Confusion

I feel pushed to the corner, the corner of what I know not and I hate it.

Yet where else could I go?

I had talent yes? No?

It slowly leaked out as I walked slowly dripping down into the cement

fueled by distraction it left

I felt ignorance enter like a stone

a weight

and there it stayed, a broken thing taking flight

who can contend with that?

So I retreated, to the corner, where it was safe.

Though the shadows crept over me, they couldn't hurt me there.

Yet in reality I was soaking up pain, hurts and frustration.

I couldn't say a word, they were snatched from my mouth

and rearranged

a bundle of confusion

I would speak

but the words had left me.

How could I contend with that?

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Silent Answers

For Ajey

He never knew it would end this way with the present of friendly banter and comradarie, yet there he lay to rise no more, no more

a procession of days of years of minutes, the seconds passed by at that moment; helpless as the thick red blood slowly dripped from the wound, all in the name of hatred, of love.

Yet they were mistaken,

every one

They knew not that they killed their brother

their brother, a friend

all out of hatred, of love

The numbing shock, the swallowing grief were emblems remaining of violence. The questions remained, the questions became the formless void unrelenting.

In the silence lay the answer, the stillness of the heart

who will reveal it? Who?

Only you

Saturday, June 5, 2010

Grains of Sand

There is a certain frustration when running in sand

the progress when doing such is slow

each step you take is heavy

HEAVY with every little grain

each minisule bit

Yet the goal is to reach the top, isn't it?

So you try different things

taking large slow steps

picking up speed and trying to stay above the bits

the little bits, the grains of sand

Eventually you realize that going straight up the hill is futile.

What about approaching at an angle?

Surely going up the slope at an angle is better.

The summit is right there...

just out of grasp.

Futile steps

lie down

Then angrily you storm the hill, how dare it keep you there, you want to reach the top!

All of your energy! All of it!

Is spent fighting against those little bits

the little bits, the grains of sand.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

As they go...

I'd better write now for time is fleeting, fleeting away like the day
around and around my thoughts are retreating, I forgot what I wanted to say

I've tried and I've tried, I've fought and I've died
yes I've died along the deep bay

The bay of confusion the bay of regret the bay of not knowing what needs to have met

and my words they keep drifting away and away, my words they keep drifting away.