do you know a place
where the birds are humming a lullaby
where the sunlight peeks around your windows
where the daisies are blooming?
that's the place where I'll always miss you
do you know a place
where the waves are refusing
to stop kissing the shoreline
where the sun is slowly drifting down
illuminating the water with shimmers of gold
where the clouds are beginning to disappear
and the shadow starts to hide slowly in the horizon?
that's the place where I'll always remember you
do you know a place
where the beautiful constellations are hanging
in the midnight sky
where the starlight is shining so bright
where the wind is sweeping all your pain?
that's the place where I'll always wait for you
do you know a place
where the brown leaves are falling
where they're feeling hopeless
and merging with the ground
where the trees are giving up
and let the snowflakes tear down
from the pale sky
where the sunshine starts to come back again
and brush the color of the green leaves
until it grows and blossoms again?
that's the place where I'll always love you
He would walk there in the evening,
alone, and happy to be so for a while.
Wandering the beach and his mind,
kicking the useless flotsam aside.
Wandering still through the flotsam in his head.
Picking through what's useful and not.
Remembering the things he thought forgot,
remembering the words wished never said.
And then the wash of the waves would invoke a balance,
as if he was washing parts of the day away.
The sound of the sea would be calming,
like something his mother would simply say.
There were parts of his soul that were tired,
he knew, because he felt it reach deep down inside.
Down where the soul is on fire,
washing away with the advancing tide.
His eyes would lock on the lighthouse,
illuminating his face every once in a turn.
Sand would fall through his fingers,
he looked at the flames and all of the cinders.
Trying to gauge what could not be learned.
Just trying to gauge what could not be heard.
You can hear the voices of our peers being silenced, ignored, shunned and distorted.
Staggering out of their bedroom doorways to the street corner to score a dime bag.
Bright, insightful kandi kids freezing in search of warmth from something to believe in that will make them look forward to see another day.
Where our economy has made financial prudence clear when talking about education, yet price tags of university tuitions skyrocket.
The refused, the ones with hope but no money or scholarships; tread the streets with the echoes of electro house pulsing in their skulls.
Those who strip themselves down and shred their own morals to scraps just to find themselves and to see their own limitations.
Searching for answers to the unknown, to ascertain what they are, who they are and why.
Timid in high school, pushed along with nothing and no one to put their creative vigor into.
The squeakiest wheels that were never even considered to be given a good greasing.
Faculties giving them lethargic hellos on the first day of school, bestowing celebrated goodbyes to them on graduation day, diplomas in hand.
Now are the ones slumped over in a lackadaisical position contemplating how they can afford an education.
They work eight to ten at seven twenty five an hour Monday to Friday and weekends staying in as not to blow their earnings.
Those who commute to university and balance a job with it, I applaud you.
The bewilderment of adulthood, the abundance of pressure and responsibility.
Awakened from nightmares of lost opportunities, missed trains and lost contacts.
To step out of bed and splash water onto a severely distressed face and staring into a mirror with a despairing look.
Then hoping a bus to Garfield to bring back weight for all the embryonic smokers not yet at the point of make or break, just save up enough to pave my own way.
Gazing at the town on a roof top, chugging down the tenth…no…twelfth beer of the night wondering how this all happened.
Wild sensations of kissing an attractive stranger, the rush of touching on things never felt, tasting pleasures only the lucky have known.
The passionate, yet dissolute yearning for that ever eluding orgasmic adrenaline. Pounding, Pounding, Pounding until the culmination of energy has come.
Flip sided to those dizzying, tear jerking thoughts of suicide, annihilation of ones being, the contradictions of their faith in themselves and the people around them.
Unexplainable waves of anxiety crashing onto the shore of a diminutive island of optimism
Striving to look past the panic, the gloominess and fury that may or may not be present. But to remain composed and press forward to what awaits them.
Coffee keeps them going. Cup after cup, late night cramming every bit they can; into their caffeine driven psyches until the indisputable crash and failure.
Packs and packs of menthol cigarettes to calm their rattling nerves but at the same time killing them slowly. Their lives will seem shorter than the time it took to finish one bogey when death is near.
Marijuana induced ventures to run down burger shacks, laughing hysterical in the car ride, eyes heavy with a most ridiculous elastic grim extending from ear to ear. While inside millions of thoughts and realizations of consciously simple thoughts and troubles become clear and unproblematic. So the joy is mirrored outside in.
LSD trips in Petruska dancing and singing in the rain! Making music, making love; playing pretend and creating art. Becoming a family while kicking back under the warmth of an illuminated tree.
MDMA streaming through the body, everything is as it should be, beautiful, lovely to touch, wondrous to stroke, marvelous to move. To contact and connect, converse and converge with the dwelling desire to share what you feel with everyone for it would be selfish and unpleasant to keep it in.
Mushrooms oh the emotional overflow I need not say more but damn.
The there are over the counter candies, oxycodone, oxycotin and codone. Xanax, painkillers and antidepressants. Ups, downs, side ways and backwards.
Selling addiction and dependency legally to kids. Making heroine, cocaine and speed easily obtainable to kids. Changing the names and giving out prescriptions so that the kids parents can feel like their actually helping their children but are subconsciously making it easier on them because they cannot handle they way their children actually are. Some parents actually do want help their kids and feel it is the only way, I wish it wasn’t so. Becoming zombies, mindless addicts before they even start to mature into puberty.
Oh, the monotonous, mundane rituals and agendas of our lives. School, work, sleep eat, the sluggish schedules and repetitions of yesterdays conversations and redundancy of itineraries we had plotted months prior.
Same people, the constant faces of boredom, groans of apathy and the fear of complacency.
We talk about how hum drum out lives have become and what we could to put some color in our world but don’t.
We speak of how unfair the system us but ultimately confuse ourselves and everyone else due to lack or organization and detcation so nothing is changed.
We speak of breath taking women we want to share sexual fantasies with but can’t even muster enough courage to send a trivial friend request.
Texting away for hours trying to court those who now occupy our minds and possess our hearts hoping they may allow us to acquire their attention and affection. Calling them only to receive futile dial tones knowing they are being evaded.
Weeping on and on for seemingly endless time frames of a dilapidated relationship that was so strained that a miniscule breeze could cause it to collapse but still clinging to every memory as if they were vital hieroglyphics depicting your very essence.
Brilliant theories blurted out in a drunken stupor.
Ingenious hypothesis shrouded in marijuana smoked out room.
Remembrance of friends long gone.
The marines, the navy.
The casualties of drug addiction.
The conquerors or their afflictions.
The insane locked away on the flight deck never to be seen again.
Teenage mothers unsure of themselves, abandoned by their families for they believe that they brought fictional shame upon the family’s name. The fate of the child is unclear but the mother’s everlasting love shines through any obscurities in its way.
Dear mother of the new born winter’s moon may the aura of life protect you and your baby.
The father gone without a trace.
He will never know his daughter.
And it will haunt him forever.
Parents bringing up their kids with values and morals, god fearing, devil worshiping, mantras and meditation. Psalms, the Holy Quran, The Bhagavad Gita. Islamic anecdotes and Jewish parables.
The names all different
The message the same
The stories unlike
Kabala, scientology and wiccans
Amish and Mormons
All spate paths that intertwine and runoff each other then pool into the plateau of eternal life.
But do we have faith in our country, our government?
They do not have faith in us. Cameras on every street corner, FBI agents staling social media, recordings of our personal lives. 4th amendment where have you gone?
We say farewell to Oresko the last veteran of the last great war. And revisit the Arab spring, Al-Assad’s soldiers opening fire on innocent protester, one hundred fifteen thousand lay dead. Bin laden dead, Hussein hanged, Gaddafi received every ounce of his comeuppance. War, terrorism, the fear of being attacked or is it an excuse to deplete these countries of their natural resources like we’ve done our own? Throwing trillions of dollars to keep the murder machine cranking away, taxes, pensions, credit scores, insurance and annuities all cogs in the convoluted contraptions plight.
My dear friend contemplates this every night laying in bed, fetal position; the anxiety if having to be a part of this.
Falling apart on the inside but on the outside, an Adonis, playboy, Casanova wanna be. Who worshiped the almighty dollar, gripping it so tightly until it made change, drank until he had his fill falling face first into the snow. The guy who lead on legions of clueless girls wearing their hearts on their sleeves not knowing he had a girlfriend the entire time. Arranging secret meetings in hidden gardens, streaking into the early morning. Driving to Ewing in his yellow Mustang to woo a sado masochistic girl. The chains and whips do nothing to him he is already numbed by the thrill. Then he comes home, lays in bed until one, with no job and having people pay for his meals.
He knows what he does and who he is wrong. He recites and regurgitates excuses endlessly. He cries because he knows he is weak, he knows he must fix himself. I sit on the edge of myself with my fingers crossed hoping maybe, maybe he will set himself straight.
My chum who can talk his way out of any confrontation and into a woman’s panties. Multitudes of amorous affairs in backrooms, backseats, front rows of movies theaters. Selfish, boastful and ignorant, yet woman fling themselves at him like catapulted boulders over a medieval battle field just to say hello. These girls blind to see what going on, for their eyes were taken by low self esteem. A need to be accepted, to feel wanted even only for fifteen minutes. Poor self image, daddy issues, anorexic razor blade slicing sirens screaming on about counted calories and social status. Their uncontrollable mental breakdowns and emotional collapse. Their uncles who raped them, their parents who split up and confusing their definition of love and loyalty for the rest of their lives. Broken homes, domestic abuse and raised voices, sending jolts of fright into the young girl’s fragile minds. I send my sorrows to you ladies, to see such beautiful creatures suffer then be used and thrown away with the condom that was just thrust deep into their loins.
Then I see women and men of marvelous stature, romantic in the streets holding everyone and everything in high regards. Finding beauty in anything and anyone. Enjoying every second as if the rapture was over head eating exotic foods from unheard of countries and cultures. Bouncing to the sound of whimsical , reverb ricochets and sense stimulating music. Huffing inspiration to creative something out of thin air. Dancing to retired jazz and swing albums as if no time had past since their conception. Wearing bold colors and patterns, thrifty leather shoes or suede.
Dawning pre-owned blazers because why spend hundreds of dollars on new clothes just to look good but feel uncomfortable with a hole in your pocket. Dressing up but dressing down, so class yet urban I love it, chino, pea coats and flannels so simple but chic.
At night they go to underground dens, sweaty bodies, loud music and freedom. Expressive manifestations glowing fueled with MDMA and other substances to further their enjoyment of the dark glorious occasion. Sporting colorful bracelets, not watches for time is of no concern to them, they have all eternity they know that.
Going to book stores, coffee shops just to have some peace of mind and a moment of silence to themselves so that can weave the tapestry of imaginative innovation. Writing their own versions of the same story, endless doors of perception, reading news papers and taking it with a grain of salt. Watching the news on TV with a hand full of salt. Searching for the real story so they can know if the world they all live in is actually safe.
She who made her own way breaking hearts, rolling blunts and making deals. The flower child of the modern age, left the Rainey days in search of radiant sunshine, idealistic. Reality was subjective, purple dyed hair, multicolored sweater with sandals on her feet. A ten inch bowl with bud from California packed in tightly. Coming from Dumont to Bergenfeild then on to Philly to Mount Vernon. Off to Astoria and the Heights. Now to Sweden laying in the grassy plains below the mountains. Good for you my friend whom I have loved, may fortunes of unsullied joy come to you and all you meet.
Since you’ve left I have encountered drunken burley firemen just trying to have a good time. Pounding down Pabst Blue Ribbon as if it were water; as if it were good tasting beer. But heroes none the less.
EMTs, young eighteen years old high school graduates, saving lives reviving people who are a mere one inch close to death.
Sport stars getting scholarships thanks to their superior skills and strength.
Striking beauty school students who are into making the people of this world a little bit more beautiful on the outside.
All these people, successful, doing things. Departing to their desired destinations. I see inside them, they carry baggage, loneliness and insecurities. I can feel their guilt slowing them down. All have their loads but it’s the way they carry them that shows who they really are. And to me their all gems.
Not far in Paterson I watch the junkies limping across busy winding street, perusing a severely needed fix. “Diesel!” they shout to no one, asking for spare change and if bold enough a ride to a shady sketchy place. I give them a dollar and politely decline. They’ll die without it, it’s like eating glass it does no good for any of us anyway. Vomiting up bile and blood, twitches and shivers are all you feel when it’s not in you. They cannot stop, they need help. Why not help them instead of “assisting” those who are homosexual? Cleansing so they can be granted entry to the kingdom of God. Looking down on people who have found love and understanding and a deep attraction to others who just so happen to share alike genitals.
Narrow minded uproars about the spread of AIDS, nonsense! The puritanical onslaught of those who want nothing more than the rest of us, love. Gay, homo, faggot, queer, how about kind, funny, genuine human being? The right to be married and divorce should be an option for everyone to enjoy. The strains and hardships of matrimony are yours if you want them. If you don’t agree don’t hate or harm just allow them to be peacefully. Same goes for anything for that matter, Jehovahs going door to door, Mormons from Burbanks. New ideas are never a bad thing, they’re not a waste of time. On average you have about eighty years to mull over your options.
Some people don’t live long enough to do so, cancer is on the rise, blood diseases, sexual diseases, natural disasters coming right out of left field and blindsiding the innocent bystanders of both hemispheres. Some go through life handicapped, autism is apparent these days. Schizophrenia, asperburgers, ADD and ADHD. Some lose their golden memories of their many valuable years or some cant remember whatever transpired only a few moments ago. Some go through life delusional or bipolar. Some cant even sleep at night but they still carry one. And if assistance is needed it is our job as a race to help our brothers and sisters, no one deserves to be excluded from the gala of life. The be denied by society and pumped with brightly colored pills from doctors promising a cure but prescribing a crutch.
Finding solace in sincerity.
The serendipity of it all hasn’t been uncovered and that keeps me going.
“Radiate boundless love towards the entire world above, below and across. Un hindered without ill will without enmity.” Oh Buddha the truth as it ever was.
Who is he who keeps these thoughts from the conscious minds of the population?
Who is it that distracts us from the humbling beauty and overwhelming devastation of this place of existence we’re in?
It’s they who do under the table parlor trick behind our backs.
Those who broadcast mind numbing so called reality TV shows without an underlying value or meaning.
Those who produce music, proclaiming extravagance to be the end all be all gluttonous goal we all should aim to achieve.
And those who turn noble causes into money making scams and defile pure ideas.
And of course those who give false promises of easily obtained bright futures, those who don’t care, those who steal, kill, curse, bad mouth and lie. But still manage to get elected into positions that more or less decide out fates. Monsters, demons, banshees howling inconsequential worries and leaving us deaf to hear the real issues.
The heartless selfish people who make the thoughtless decision to have abortions because they lacked the self control to take the time to get protection and do not want to deal with their consequences, feeling no guilt throwing away what is the very make up of life and love they had created themselves! Although there are those who do so for they cannot support what they have created and give it a life they deserve, I can understand but I still weep but I empathize with such tragic forked road decisions.
Mystery men raping innocent home walkers and killing them or leaving them to live their lives in pain and shame. We can make our own trouble but we can also undo them. No one has a right o put hardships upon us and if so at least I will fight.
Who are the ones to look for when guidance and facts are needed? Look to the poor, the unfortunate poverty stricken open eyed weary ones. They’ll tell you how things look at from t he bottom of the hill. Ask the ravers and hipsters, college students they tell you how it is when climbing the hill. Joyous, miraculous realizations illuminating the visions of the mind. Growing fields of love and dreams. Weeding out the falsehoods with ease.
Ask the children, so innocent and naïve, giving a simple yet meaningful perspective. Same as the geriatric wise ones who time wears thin. Both have intrinsic values and wants.
Talk to the lustful lovers they can tell you how in one moment a tangent can be created in one foul swoop. Or the leathered whip weilding, dominant/submissive practitioners of pain. They’ll show you the exquisiteness of pain and bondage, domination and twisted, alternative pleasures. The nine to fivers commuting as if their lives depend on it…and it does! They’ll tell you how precious every minute of every day is. The drug dealers, the drunks have outlandish perspectives, yes but they have merit all their own.
The mentally unstable, chemically unbalanced children of the sun.
The soldiers, parents of struggle. Or go to the metaphysical; God, Ganesh, Vishnu, Shiva, Gahandi, the Dali Llama. Ancient prophecies shed light on your darkest days.
Travelers have been to many places, come across many persons, seen many things. Interview a man from Munich, see what he has to say.
Confront a delinquent or a deviant, they have voices too.
We all come together in this wild weird universe where everything is relative. Where everything happens for a reason but without a single motive. A place where explanations and ambiguity go hand in hand. To achieve balance, understanding, self awareness, self confidence and control of emotion and thought; endless unconditional love and the notion to stand up for ones self must be acquired. Equality and tranquility flowing effervescently across the cosmos. No separation or bigotry no thought of color, race or creed, color and background. With all our senses heightened to see all the truth in the world, to smell the sweet aroma of familiar places, to feel the cool wind on a warm day, to taste the sweet and sour flavors that make up a day. And to hear all the wondrous sounds around us music, laughter, crying, honesty, lies and to distinguish between them without having to look.
The ability to articulate all you’ve seen and heard. Everything you’ve tasted and smelled and touched. The emotions felt, the thoughts you’ve gone over and over time after time. The eradication of grief and suffering. Heartbreak, loss and demolishing surprise. All the memories and people you’ve met there. The places you’ve traveled to, the relationships built and destroyed. The lessons learned or forgotten or maybe the ones haven’t grasped just yet they are you! They are us! All the same yet different to create a mixture of assorted frequencies and combinations of destines and the trails that take us their! So rise my friends Rise! RISE!
There are so many times I want to tell you I'm sorry for taking so long to find you.
There are so many different reasons why I meandered down all the wrong routes in a long maze that somehow led to you.
There are so many different ways I've written about you, so many different ways I've yet to make you pen to paper, ink upon lines.
There are so many different things running trough my mind when you slowly lean in to kiss me-
Like if I had known how you kiss, maybe I'd have found you sooner,
Or if I had known you were so understanding, I wouldn't have put that to the test,
Or even if I'd known someday I wouldn't have every day to be with you,
Maybe I would have found you sooner.
But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere until I have to.
I know this will end. We have an expiration date, a "Best Used By" stamp, a date set for when we have to say good by but that's okay.
Because I'm here now.
And I know my youth is a factor, the idea that we can't get too attached because of age and circumstance but I like you, and for so many different reasons.
There are so many different reasons why I'm happy to look at you and know you're mine,
Even if it's just for now.
I heard somewhere that beautiful things never last,
And that's why fireflies flash-
It must be the sparkle in your eyes when you laugh,
Or the way your smile lights up your face.
Those things don't last forever either,
But I might remember them for that long because there were so many times I didn't get to tell you these things.
There were so many times I wanted to cup your face in my hands and kiss you.
So I am sorry it took me so long to be here, to be within your grasp-
But I'm here now.
We are just a flash in the grand scheme of things,
But I think we're one hell of a flash regardless-
Like fireworks illuminating the night sky,
Like the North star shining more than any other, guiding people home.
If I would have known you would be a light in my life,
Maybe I would have found you sooner.
The similarities between him and the illuminating character;
Alone representation of the tragic flaws of all-
Just like mimesis in this mad world
Tiresome by the mediocrity of life you:
creating a frivolous exterior and embracing materialistic ideals
paint a room lined with mirrors: see the opposite (sublime)
too fringed and embedded with false ideals
the reminisce of balconies, blushing flowers,
prayers as strong as love to .last.
The similarities between him, and
in awe, yielded to a facade lover
Both to die and live in Paris
She stands gazing out at the lake
the waves chase each other across its surface.
Beside her, a fire
connected to her it burns softly and warmly in the dark of the night.
She can feel her city miles behind her
its walls shifting, changing, throbbing with every emotion.
The waves crash against the shore
pounding the sand as hard as it can.
a silver chain, half buried reveals itself as a wave retreats
She reaches down and grabs it before the waves can take it back
an infinity loop dangles from the silver chain, blazing from the light of the fire.
A scream claws its way up her throat
blood-curdling, loathing, filled with hatred.
Beside her, her fire leaps
its flames raging, burning brighter, hotter, higher, faster
The chain falls from her shaking hands
the light illuminating the chain as it falls back into the dark of the waters.
It was a cruel joke
Now they where just mocking her
breaking their promise and throwing it back in her face.
Hatred fills her veins
for what the silver chain means
She can feel Him waking
He can feel her rage, her anger, her hatred.
Slowly everything around her begins to fade
the lake, her fire, her city.
He begins to wake
filled with longing to be unleashed upon them
to make them pay for what they did.
He begins to consume her
taking over her till nothing is left
She is on her knees, panting, fighting to control Him, to keep Him subdued
but its too late
He is too strong and she is to weak.
He enters the world
and she is no more
He wants blood, pain, chaos
He wants to make them suffer
He has no reasoning, no cares, nothing
only the urge to kill
He is the Beast
and nothing can stop him.
Her city can do nothing
only watch and wait
Watch has the Beast destroys the world
and wait for the end of sit all...
Your gentle frame is dangerously close to me.
Our hands collide together and become one,
Not even pausing for a breath.
But tracing the outline of one another's body with our tongues.
Your eyes close as your body raises towards the sky.
Everything around us black and white.
You and me colliding.
Illuminating and wrapped in interchanging shades of color.
A light gasp of air, taking it in as if it were our first.
And this innocent feeling we are experiencing as if we have before.
As your wrapped in my arms the thoughts in your mind sing to me.
Your fragile fingers trace my spine, sending surges through my body.
Your hair, soft to the touch, slowly brushing across my face.
Your breath, warm and subtle, as you whisper your deepest secrets and wants to me.
And I whisper mine to you.
On forgiving former loves-
I understand your worry for uncertainty
It consumed you
Emerged as an ideal that you could not abandon
So you abandoned me instead
And maybe abandonment is a strong word
But I'm a strong man and I finally have a grasp on this
A clenched fist gripping empathy, not animosity
I understand your intentions weren't reckless
But a blinded truck driver can't avoid oncoming traffic too long
And accidents still design destruction
No matter how sorry the driver is after the fact
And sorry is much appreciated but still neglects the fact that
Heart brakes don't stop collisions, they create them
I understand your past problems peaked into the present
And interrupted our intimate conversations
I had no problem erasing the demons you carried
To carry your baggage to the nearest trash can
To make room for our own difficulties
But I know attacking these issues alone was your preference
And I admire an inspired inspector of treacherous ground
I understand your passion wasn't illuminating
Our relationship's mansion anymore
Your embers resembled smothered ashes on love's battlefield
Your heart- a committed commander to Independence
The sovereign state selected to attack happy couples
I won the battle and the war this time
But my troops are resilient for commitment
I understand your calendar didn't coexist with mine
And I appreciate your treated tenderness
Your existence improved my experience
Your love surrendered waving white flags
Which I greeted at first reluctantly
But over time I've come to recognize
The importance of self-harmony
after everything is said and done,
i can only hope that someone out there in this world can find the hidden galaxies in my bones,
i hope someone finds the stars in my eyes and the moon in my mind —
for the rest of me is wrecked.
my smile no longer reflects the sun's radiant rays,
my smile is transparent now; anyone could see right through it.
my smile is dark, much like the sky without the illuminating stars gleaming down on us.
my heart no longer contains the milky way, you barged right into my most important organ and stole everything stellar about me.
after the damage you've caused me, my heart is dark too, like your attic was the night you brought me up there to stargaze.
at the time, i didn't know i would be gazing at the constellations you stole from me.
you always did say you admired me like i put the stars in the sky.
(i didn't know that you literally meant it.)
You Are Not Alone
Copyright © 2013
By Erika Whitmore
You are not alone
You will never be forgotten.
At the rising of the moon
Through the beams illuminating
Through the starlight reverberating,
Blissful angels weeping
O’er enchanting, echoed voices
… you resonate with me
Tones upon tones upon…
The stars… these ancient stars
In pools and rings…
…that beget rings that beget rings…
Flowing in, ebbing out
In all, in everything
That surrounds you, that’s in me
Blue-azure-and green jade tumbling water
It is so beautiful,
Beyond what words can speak.
…It is you.
Quiet, falling snow of cotton
Dark and heavy heart
But you are not alone -
…and we are not apart.
And you will never…
(For My Beloved Ahira and Inspired by and written while listening to: “I Can Hear the Moon Rising,” “Rapture” and “Love Is Surrender” by Kip Mazuy on www.calm.com)*