What is it like on that Otherside~
that place where time slows to a still...?

What can you recall in those precious moments of deeper contemplation~
acceptance of destination...?

with peaceful mind~
Soft and Knowing.

“All great and precious things are lonely.”
It has been a cold, cold river of hope and desperation
the greatest glories do not die, they are as young as the dawn
and yet- the night will come, and your name will be shortened,
for we all view things as outside of ourselves and we view them wrongly
“And this I believe: that the free, exploring mind of the individual human is the most valuable thing in the world. And this I would fight for: the freedom of the mind to take any direction it wishes, undirected. And this I must fight against: any idea, religion, or government which limits or destroys the individual. This is what I am and what I am about.”
and we even think of our own lovers on a pedestal-
we do not allow them to think alone, but if we do,
we ignore them and pretend that they do not- our brothers impregnate
our wives and we love them anyway, both wife and brother,
for neither is any tarnished in our mind- a man exists alone and
can work the machinations of others and play them,
stripping them of their freedom though they still believe themselves
to be free-
“I believe that there is one story in the world, and only one. . . . Humans are caught—in their lives, in their thoughts, in their hungers and ambitions, in their avarice and cruelty, and in their kindness and generosity too—in a net of good and evil. . . . There is no other story. A man, after he has brushed off the dust and chips of his life, will have left only the hard, clean questions: Was it good or was it evil? Have I done well—or ill?”
we all believe ourselves to be good, we strive for good,
but who are we? what is good? how can we be good when we are not sure
what that is, who we are, or where we strove from? it can be measured,
certainly, by our glories, that are God-given,
it can be passed through blood and at first we think,
once you have it, you have it,
but that is not true- Cain was not given an order or an ultimatum
he was not given a promise, he was given an opportunity
“But the Hebrew word, the word timshel—‘Thou mayest’— that gives a choice. It might be the most important word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it right back on a man. For if ‘Thou mayest’—it is also true that ‘Thou mayest not.”
Timshel- Timshel- Timshel-
what it is that is given to the human consciousness that gives it the right
and the ability to soar- we may or we may not, that is all
you are not what you are born as and there is nothing you may hide behind
“There's more beauty in truth, even if it is dreadful beauty.”
you may never escape the truth, the lies are what hold you back
but they are ugly, they are false, they shield you from encountering your own life-
your wife, a monster of a *****, who demands the worst of all
and cannot see the good- but you see only good in her
“A kind of light spread out from her. And everything changed color. And the world opened out. And a day was good to awaken to. And there were no limits to anything. And the people of the world were good and handsome. And I was not afraid any more.”
and your life was illuminated once again- for you have been gray
your whole life and have forgotten that the joy of the Irishman is false,
you have lost the name and mind of the Chinaman
but no longer-
“But I have a new love for that glittering instrument, the human soul. It is a lovely and unique thing in the universe. It is always attacked and never destroyed - because 'Thou mayest.”
and it is not that you 'shall' soar and it is not that you 'must' soar
you can. you can. you can. that is all.
“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.”

~

Silence, on waves of our tide motioned heartbeats,
cascading rhythms, a smooth metronome
Keeping this time inside blue water passions,
beneath the surface, the feelings we’ve grown

Hidden so deep in the swells of affection,
swimming the shores of a long summer’s night
Building a fortress of seashell laced castles,
sand dollar curtains to fend off the light

Running for cover as sunrise now beckons,
placing our smiles where the seas can not gaze
Whispering secrets of coast line devotion,
harboring dreams till the end of our days

Lighthouse lit beacons now search as a witness,
beaches a’ shimmer of moon glow above
Hoisting our anchor, we share the horizons,
*sailing these oceans, professing our love

"What does Happiness mean to you Jon?"

First response without thinking about it: The absence of guilt and shame.

Second response after thinking about how terrible the first one sounded:
The absence of loneliness.

Third response after some serious soul searching:
Creating and sharing beautiful things.

A beautiful day
That at least exists in and of itself
Has no history and no needs
Can be quietly experienced
Without any sort of insecurity

I will go and sit by the pond then
Lean against my friend the Cypress tree
And allow myself to simply be here
And though that does give me peace
It's a bittersweet, half felt brush
With something totally beyond my reach

Leaving my shackles on the grass behind me
I simply want to share some small happiness
No ambition for me and no desire for possession
Just a yearning for some sort of reconciliation

I will continue as best I may
Regardless of my solitude or companionship
And yes, sometimes I am sad within
But I will not apologize for that
Or the deep-seated belief that all happiness comes with a price

If what I have been taught
And am trying to unlearn
Results in a further sadness
Then I accept the cost
Of being a naked human being

Wakes up
texts good morning
eats last nights tempura
drinks coffee
and is empty

Tries to read
tries to think of other things
and can't quite find
comfort in old things that used
to bring some slight relief

Makes a passing remark
and is told that if one won't forgive
one will be nothing but bitter
and alone
forever

Doesn't try to explain
that one can forgive
and possibly even forget
but that doesn't mean the same
as setting oneself up
for another betrayal

Misses dad
reminisces about some good times
long past and best left alone
and is irritated for that
***** in crumbling armour

Is a bystander
in a one sided tongue lashing
over pointless frustrations
chemically based
and promptly exits the scene

Is at work
burying half formed anxieties
underneath never ending problem solving
solving all problems encountered
except for one's own

At the grocery store
staring catatonic
through rows of frozen meals
uninterested in actually eating
merely performing a chore

Back at work
typing out nonsense and noise
not really caring for response
simply needing to affirm something
anything

And then I got to talk to you