"Watch The Sunrise..."*

Remembering
triggers
remembering
triggers ...

...I sat a deathwatch with a friend - just this last November. She was quite a person... It became the ultimate "He said, she said..." and at the end - *dissolution. We shared the creation of the world she was "becoming". At sunrise the silence was total... and the darkness complete
- the circle unbroken.

I still watch the sun rise...
her sun ...rise,
and others
and others...


With each brightening-
so many are "becoming"
more than they were.
New worlds -
to be explored,
remembered -
still other thoughts echoing within.

Sometimes all I do is stare
-that faraway gaze,
that stolid look into eternity's face


...and sometimes I hear the "birds" -
  distractions of the 'dawning'
- and sometimes not.

Sometimes I understand -
chuckling here, at me ...understanding
how and why the anger flows inside.
For what it means to have been me
when
things happened, were done, weren't done,
ended ...began -
. is merely my own "he said, she said..."
soliloquy.

Life is sensual,
desire - ageless...
the need we feel
doesn't fade,
and loss isn't less keen now than then.

We hammer edges into the walls of our existence to prop
perceptions for renewel and then ignore the views
so they fade and fade away into our darkness.
And its almost like a physical distance
- to look into our thoughts ...almost.

I want ...
I want to ...
its not about ...
its ...

Remembering
triggers ...remembering.

Chris

Sunbeams reach through the window
Touching me, tentatively,
Raising gooseflesh, waking desire.
Dormant nevermore,
I am a Summerchild,
Opening up to the promise of the light.
Banish deathwatch Winter
Gift me the Spring like a flower in bud
To slowly open, as the days grow longer,
And the memories of darkness fade
with long forgotten grief
abandoned, left to drown
Amidst the January floods.

Clammy,
but funny that I don't smell like the sea,

It's a condition of being
especially in the humidity
and I still don't smell like the sea.

This is the couple of hours after noon,
I am deathwatch weary
everyone commiserates and
nobody sees me,
I'm on my way home.

Beads of sweat
somewhat like a rosary
dripping down off me
I cross myself religiously
and count to ten.

Your knowing eyes,
they analyze;
Your curious mind,
ever blind;
Your vast intellect,
a grin of neglect;

You can see,
that may be;
You can spy,
but you will cry;
You can watch,
but you'll be a deathwatch;

You cannot be detective,
it takes the right perspective;
You cannot complete this task,
it would be too much to ask;
You cannot realize,
but you'd be traumatized;

You'd get quite a scare,
you couldn't bear;
It's quite a sight,
you'd get quite a fright;
Playing detective,
it's never fair;
Playing detective,
now that's rare.