sleepy tears

good morning.

i would like to go to the beach during the rain.
for some reason, i am having a difficult time picturing what it would be like.

would raindrops spiral down and splash into the sea and sand,
spattering and sputtering...

would the waters seem deeper, darker?

i suppose it would depend. as with everything

april begins in a day.

dear rabbit

you were my favorite childhood toy.

stay with me

warm

i can't keep on doing this.
i have to be okay with my mistakes

no matter what i've done or felt
i just need to keep moving on

i'm afraid of looking back and cringing
reenacting scenes over and over again
wishing i had done this instead,
or thinking perhaps i shouldn't have done that

it's so hard to keep my mind on the present
and shouldn't one eye always be kept on what is ahead?
i've been living with a foot stuck in the past
maybe that's why it's so hard to truly get over things.

i care too much about what people think of me.
too much effort has been put into cultivating some sort of image for myself
i've spent too much time dwelling in my pride,
leaning on my own understanding.

i don't know.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z_rFoD1oE6U
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iY4APDrl66s
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WmucougzKn0

shh, shhh

I.
can i sit here, still,
falling forward

the question, by tony hoagland

The Question

"We are what is missing from the world"
-Fernando Pessoa

Some questions have no answer.
Raised, they hang there in the mind
Like open mouths, full of something missing.
The great Portuguese poet, Pessoa,
Said that the idea of happiness
Is what makes men permanently sad.
The body, imagining the soul,
Looks ugly to itself.
A man hears a word, and the world
Becomes a place that he misunderstands.
So he climbs high into his life,
Ashamed of all he doesn't know,
And refuses to come down.

If you could coax him out again,
You could tell him, say,
That anything can be explained.
The shape of apples, for example,
By their love of travel.
Or that the sky is blue because
It's an easy color on the eyes.

Even the dog, chasing its tail,
Has, temporarily, a center.
Even the bird, disappearing into his hole
Knows that the world goes on without it.
And Pessoa, that eminently healthy man,
That artist, wore a blue wool hat
Even on the hottest summer days.
Simply to toss at strangers in the street.
He liked to see them catch it,
And grow immediately less strange.

-Tony Hoagland


one of my favorites, always.

blue light breath

I.
blue light dawning on me,
blue light setting

peering through the eyes of a sleepy sun
so drunken with light
say goodnight!
then it's pale blue again in the morning



i am so tired. i don't seem to have an established sleeping pattern as of late.
but what did i expect?

i sort of long for moments when i'm out of breath.
everything is fast and pounding, but also, in a way, peaceful.
all you have to think about is the next breath.

simple.

you have to look straight up, to the very, very top

all my neighbors have fruit trees. as far as i know, they let the fruit rot on the branches and grow soft and dark and moldy on the ground. why don't they pick them? they're beautiful. and i know they taste just fine (i picked a few lemons, i admit).

ah.

today, i ran. my legs felt as if they would stop working.
and as i fell behind, the lights began to blur as i felt a wetness in the corners of my eyes.

but you just have to keep pushing. because you can still breathe, you can still move.
there are people watching, waiting.

so you keep on running.

heavy, like a swamp

I.
i listened for a while
(strained to hear)
i heard the cries of kittens,
yearning for their mother's milk

II.
the world burning itself into my eyes

i am determined. kind of.
(p.s. are knowing and believing the same thing?)

early morning

I.
this morning, slow-bodied and dark-eyed,
bears no fruit,
(obese limbs without root in the ground)
tight buds centered in my fingertips,
(promises of flowers--i wish)

II.
the days have colors
the days are long and blurred



(the moon was so pleasantly plump last night!
the first full moon of the lunar calendar.
in my head, i thought yesterday was the end.
but like always, it was only the beginning.)