the balance of fools
just upon the balance of fools I dance
without knowing
the music or the steps
but knowing in just breaths
that I am but on strings
to navigate such strings
while feeling the pull
and denying the same
(to myself)
insert words of wisdom here… sometimes I am the big ego, sometimes I feel like a pawn or a useless tool… depends on my mood, and the day… and if it matters anyway, I’m not sure… so…
will I be sand
or stone
when I go-
or have I already been
all of these
and more
have I been
fire that burns
or water for thirst
will I be a flash of light
across the sky
or the calming glow
of the vast twilight
for I will never know-
these memories may have been
but I can grasp-
the dirt within my hands
and dream of them
if only I could talk to my DNA and understand the spiral that is me.
the heavy summer blanket-
the sweltering-pulp of thick air
is-
that feral cat
on my deck,
rabbit-scared bolt
in our previous encounters
today?
strewn out
like bone-dry-baked seaweed
waiting for the salvation
of the tide
to revive
sure, I have been through summers, and I also lived in south Florida for a spell… but it is hard to describe how air can be heavy, where it hits you when you walk out the door in the morning like a literal barrier, and even at night, where just a simple breeze is revelation, and air conditioning is truly salvation, but if you have no means of shelter? or reprieve? you have no choice but to wait it out, all else becomes a distant thought.
yeah, this is my space, I do what I want… sometimes, well, often I just have to reflect… so, yeah… this takes me back, no apologies, love me, hate me, it don’t matter… if you found me, you understand, maybe not. maybe so… so… live. please live with a smile, that is all I am trying to do in my own way… so do it.
I have this impulse to film my mother at this point, her end is pretty near, not on death’s bed this second but maybe taking residence in the same hotel, not quite in the basement yet, do I record knowing? her knowing? like an interview with a vampire? I visit almost daily whether in the rehab center or the hospital, bouncing back and forth, I have learned more about administrative health conduct in the past 2 months than I care to have ever learned in my entirety, I make myself more emotionally available for her sake, certainly not my comfort zone, but … what do you do? and how much is enough … or not enough? I feel judged (and the weight of such) and yet know I am doing the best I can.
but back on point, do I record… life is fleeting and perhaps this may be the last few weeks of her life. I suppose I should, maybe posting this has clarified the point for me… If I don’t I would, damn, I will regret it … why? because the thought entered my mind for a reason, damn… trust yourself, I am such a confident person people might say but I am drowned in doubt so often and for so long… I have to break through… life is so damn short… I have to wear that on my heart, my mind and my tongue… for real, not just being some snarky know it all that has gotten me so far… that is all a shield, a persona, not totally false, somewhat, a force field… I hate it.. I know it… we all do it… I am trying to break free and just be pure me, as we all are, constrained by all the outside forces, perceptions, expectations… sometimes that has to be put to the side and just be… I am clawing toward that reality, damn I wish I could just ride a dragon and go away, or burn my problems to a crisp with a simple chant of “dracarys” … but no life is not that… I hope I have the courage and balls to make this quest happen, to capture my mom, in her last moments, while she is still with us, it is a painful path but I think the outcome is worth end. A better memorial than a cold stone.
peering into this tiny space
reading words
nah
in on space
a small space
watching the screen twitch
videos,
how strange, like a bear trapped in a cave
with a TV or a laptop most likely,
perception, reality, jubilation from the screen frame
“this one goes out to the one I love
the one I left behind…”
is there more perfect a sentiment and then occupied in song.
and then, I realize how guilty some of us are of this, not all of us, that is pretentious, but me? damn I feel stuck, and do not know how to get unstuck, every answer I run into already has an answer if you get my meaning… and it makes you leaving like you will never have that same again when so many others seem to pass Inn to Inn and find the next where I am simply lost in the wilderness for decades now… with only glimpses at the stars, mistakes my own and not… but, I tell myself we all die alone but I would like some a companion before then, not to share my journey but to share for a time.
pure music pimp post, because I blog for me, not you… if you get it… or connect, cool, I love you but I do this for myself… so I present:
in my mind-
I am still
that honey-hearted child
somewhat blind
by lack of sight
and days-…
basking in the sun
the glaze
bleaching, my young blonde mane
toned near bright white-
a portent not seen
a path laid out, unseen,
(closing my eyes) I can feel that warm glow
and taste the care free air
that flows, ’round
as I run in bare feet
‘cross the sand
the heart’s beat of the tide
soothes, like a gentle hand
somehow, even the slight babe
understands, that kind command
of the land.
now I am content
to sit
and reminisce
such dreams of memory, exist
and sip-slowly upon
that seductive elixir
of bliss-
of days bygone.
the view
if this view-
was a television
instead of-
a window
I could not imagine-
feeling the breeze
I see
rolling through the trees
rolling across the leaves
perception and reality… has a friend in expereince
Shades of My Garden 