160214A
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They could have made it easier,
but they chose to make it hard.
It depends on where you came from,
and it chances on who you are.
You wanted to do it like the animals,
and I wanted to do it in other ways.
I wanted poise and grace and charm.
I wanted a way to make an escape.
There are so many types of savagery,
and sometimes some of it looks fun,
but it all makes for feeling too empty:
like a spent round from the same old gun.
I don't know where any of it is going,
and I don't really care where it has been.
I don't know what they mean by love,
when it seems like such a crazy deal.
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160214B
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I am full of all those longings,
that you love to deny to me.
They make me gaze into the heavens,
staring at the phases of the moon
and looking into the sun's shadows.
I wonder which star it really was
that was lost in the wrong house,
according to the day and the month.
I do not know what the answers are,
and I have no idea as to the questions
that you collect as picture cards
spread across the expanse of a table.
You could have been the water to my flame,
though nothing ever goes that peaceful.
Most of it being no more than mist
rising as a sigh from a over sated earth.
The conversation never goes so deep,
as to wrap itself up in late night darkness.
It is more like a superficial wound,
that passes grazing across the bone.
Leaving a haunted feeling
that it could have been something more
if the right formula had been known,
to spill the right spirits from their bottles.
It is all the same problem of recognition,
causing you to slip away before we knew
anything that might make a difference.
I have no special charms
that would have captured you securely,
into the middle of my broken circle.
There is always that persistent fear
that it might close like a steel leg trap.
Desire has invaded my fingers,
after taking over my eyes and tongue.
That is one type of possession,
despite there being many others,
commonly made more acceptable,
and less likely to suffer exorcisms.
Though I do not know much about fishing,
knowing very little about lures and bait.
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160214C
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She was beautiful enough
to invoke that sense of desire,
that some still tend to call "love".
Though some still do
take that as stock in trade,
there are far fewer in the market.
They say everything
already has a price,
that only beasts know how to pay.
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190214A
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We tend to deny the fact
that we kill ourselves
in so many different ways,
under the pretext of survival.
The battle with monkey glands,
offering no chance of victory.
That and trying to stop thinking
about anything special.
The desire to get away,
slowly takes over,
with nowhere to really go,
beyond more of the same.
An urge to see clocks melt,
so we can watch them drip slowly
the way candles drip,
as if that gives us more time.
We take poison in measured doses,
having nothing much to say,
that anyone wants to hear about.
No point boring the crowd.
Sometimes we invent worlds,
that we have no way to live in,
having become bored with ourselves
and bored with each other.
Sometimes trying to get away
from everything we ever wanted
but could not have any of,
trying to find a way to die quietly.
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190214B
-----------
I hate to think
how much is ruined.
Entire civilizations,
lives,
pretty things,
special moments.
It starts with a toy,
later consuming your mind,
and in between
all the other things
that end up discarded,
forming their own universe.
Too much is destroyed
and always too soon,
in that continual erosion
into nothing but trash,
heaps of broken anticipations
and ruined connections.
You try to pick up the pieces,
but it never goes together again,
the way that it was meant to.
Always trying to save something
that there is no way to save,
and sometimes that's what love is.
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160214C
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I thought of you,
but you know how all of it is,
and I would rather spare you
all of those sorts of disappointments.
Too much is worn out,
and too much has become ragged
the way my soul is as ragged
as flags shredded in the wind.
I had nothing much to offer,
and all you wasted was your words,
which I absorbed intently,
giving them wrong meanings.
That is how it tends to go,
when someone wants something
badly enough
to read too much in between the lines.
We will likely never meet again,
but now I wonder if we ever did,
or whether it was a disconnection
purely by arrangement.
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160214D
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What has changed so very much
is that there are too many people
that one can know something about,
without any chance to know them.
Maybe what it really meant
when it was realized that everyone is a star,
was that everyone is light years away
from everyone else.
The sort of thing that can cause desire,
but can never bring any satisfaction.
The sort of thing that teases with nuances
but never opens into any real dialogue.
Nowadays it is easier to starve,
kept locked up in one's own mind,
where everything is always kept sterile,
no matter how dirty a thought might become.
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