Before I realised anything, an hourglass stood before me
It stood before me, majestic and strong, sand sizzling down its top
Golden sand so beautiful, like crystals of light stolen from the sun
Encased in glass so clear, like diamond, void of everything but itself

What was it trying to tell me? I didn't know.
My gaze was lost in it, awestricken by curiosity
I crawled around the glass floor inspecting the peculiar object
For it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

As grains of sand hit the bottom, I grew closer to the top
Intimacy led to trust, trust led to kinship, kinship led to family
As grains of sand hit the bottom, I found myself wanting to protect each grain
I found myself wanting to cherish for eternity, each fleeting grain.

As grains of sand hit the bottom, I grew closer to the top. But not close enough.
Close enough to see what secrets the top held
Close enough to understand what this hourglass meant
As grains of sand hit the bottom, I found myself wishing they'd fall faster.

Eventually I stopped growing and the sand slowed down.
My gaze was lost in it, numbed by boredom
What waited at the dreary end? What was the point of any of this?
Filled with questions and no answers, I started clawing at the glass.

It felt wrong. It felt like I was betraying something important.
I had reached a miserable point where I couldn't care less.
Right and wrong were like glass and sand. I kept clawing until the horrendous screeching ceased with a cold cold crack.
The squalid sand poured out onto the glass floor.

The sand scrunched against my feet, it felt... different.
I knew I should fix the ominous crack, but I didn't
My sinful hands felt heavy, it was almost like I didn’t care anymore.
Bitter tears streamed down my face and were soaked into the acrid sand.

Tears for the hourglass it could've been
Tears for the man who felt nothing when he broke it
Tears for the man who'd given up on fixing it.
Tears for the child who was lost in the blissful dunes of oblivion

The sand stopped pouring out, where the crack once was now the glass lay welded
Beside my pathetic hourglass stood hers, the most beautiful hourglass I'd ever seen
Golden sand so beautiful, like crystals of light stolen from the sun
Encased in glass so clear, like diamond, void of everything but itself.

Beauty in simply existing, ambition in each sizzling grain
Audacity to dream dreams for a tomorrow
I knew none of those so I copied her hoping
Someday I'd be able to stand beside her as her equal

In her I saw myself, a fascinated child beside his hourglass
Her existence rekindled a flame within, sparked by determination
Lost in my hourglass I realised the unfathomable potential in each grain
Conceiving the myriad of grains coursing through the glass... a latent being awakened

With that the gears of the cosmos were clanked into motion
And for the first time, I heard winds howl in this windless plane
Winds of fate, winds of time, winds from the birth of continuum
Propelling me towards the point where the sun melts sand to glass

Propelling me towards the singularity where a God is born.

And thus the saga began and the timeless grains of sand fell
As the final grain fell my entire life flashed before my eyes, and by far
the  most important grains were: the first that birthed my existence, and the other, when I found out why
As the final grain fell, I closed my weary eyes, smiling, seeing the most beautiful hourglass I'd ever seen.

A reading at Kenneth Rexroth's bookstore,
Union Street in San Francisco, 1971.

He was incoherently drunk, slurred his poems,
insulted the host, insulted the audience,
hit on the awestricken hippie girls,
delivered every kind of obnoxious possible.

Fortunately, I had read his poems
and arrived prepared to witness his act.

I'd thought his poems were overrated,
I found his persona to be spot on.

At the reception, I drank a beer beside him.
He glanced up, called me a *****
and said he ought to kick my ***.

Three weeks back for Vietnam,
I laughed directly into his face.
He turned onto another potential victim.

Instead of some street smart poet,
I saw him as just the flip side
of the New York pretentiousness
he professed to despise.

But everybody loved the clown.
Entire younger generations still do.

Still, I'm sticking to my first impressions.
Only toddlers beg to be worshiped.

Sometimes it feels good to be the odd man out.

  ~mce

you're the question
with infinite answers
but you're also the answer
to all unsolvable.

your smile alone is a novel.
where as my entire existence
is but a single letter of
one word on a page.

your name runs off
the tongue sweeter
than southern tea
and lingers in the air
like a butterfly in spring.

i can never get enough of you.
if mother nature
made the world you
must be her daughter.
your essence is in
everything. you make
everything beautiful.

i cannot take a breath
without inhaling
the memory of you
deep into my lungs.
i cannot drink a cup
of coffee without
your laughter replacing
the caffeine flooding
my veins.

you alone are unfathomable.
you are beyond my
comprehension, im awestricken
by the very action
of your beating heart.
with every second longer
i take in your presence,
i fall more in love with you.

you're my resolution
you're my everything
you're my only
you're all i ever want
you're all i need

but nothing ill ever have.

n.h.

A Tale of Betrayal

Those who appear beautiful on the outside
Are blessed because to others that means
That their beauty reflects the person that they are on the inside-
A warm smile reflects a warm heart, and
One can envision true love looking through the person’s eyes-
We believe that inner loveliness shines through.

I recall somebody who wore such a smile, and
Had that winning sparkle in her eyes-
Her hair was golden and I believed she
Had opened the door to her heart to let me inside.
When she held my hand I felt safe and it was a new rebirth
Her warm embrace I believed was speaking of
Her love toward me-I felt as if I was in another world.

The dark curtain dropped before my eyes
The day she ridiculed the pain I felt,
Laughed when I wept and
Rain fell upon the pathway as I followed in her footsteps-
I was slipping on water turning to ice, and falling-
And when I told her that I wanted to end my life
She lashed out and, she set my spirit on fire,
That smile she had always worn, that was the smile that had lied to me.

It has been said that “beauty is skin deep” she was an angel in disguise
Awestricken I wondered How could a person who appeared saintly and
With a voice reflecting a soul replete with devotion
Be so cruel and own the soul of a demon inside?
Years have passed and I have locked the door to my life to shut her out-
Hoping to never meet face to face with her again-
As years passed I have grown and now I know
That behind a magnificent sunset can be dark clouds of a storm approaching-
And I shall never trust my instincts again

The loveliest appearing person alive I shall not believe in-
Their infidelity that doesn’t appear can be hidden beneath a blanket of depravity.
Never have faith; never trust I say – when I look into somebody’s eyes
I shall look more deeply and look with care for what makes that smile seem real
I was only a child when I knew her-
From a heart that has not yet healed from the pain inflicted, though years have passed-
I say true beauty is more than what appears “skin deep”
And a broad smile and a gentle voice can lie, and be a dark curtain in itself.

Claudia Krizay