bittersweet

these goodbyes.

can YOU hear it?

what i am trying to say to you?
they haven't created words yet to say it, but i'm trying to invent them in the midst of this
it's not as easy as you would imagine. most are taken and misused and misplaced and thrown around as if they were created to be used as such.

hmm. so much to say sitting by myself wondering: if i were a different person... the one i imagine myself to be... would i be happier? better? smarter, kinder, faster? no. well, maybe. but the things that i would never give up would be gone, i am sure of it. we all give. we all take. that's the beauty of the balance that we live in. you are kind so that i may show you to be so. i am thoughtful because another thinks little. it's perfect. so perfect. only so much to go around, to give, to impress upon, in this world, and somehow, we give enough to some that they show us true beauty, they show us who we wish to be, they show us the us we would like to become. it's that energy, that goal, that drive, that makes the world go. and allows us to always know- that what we are doing, who we are helping, what we see- is never enough.

i wonder, as do you, i suppose. about many things. but today- families. would i be more successful now if my successes in earlier times were noticed? i claim to have done it all for myself but i doubt that now. everything. everything. was a ploy. a way. to get in there. to be loved a little bit more to be appreciated a little bit more to show them that i could that if i could anyone could and it was all for me me me. no it wasnt. it was for them. maybe for the greater them. i don't know what it was for. but i know it plays a part in the me now that says enough enough enough. because i am doing it for only me now. and. well.

i don't have to prove myself to me. i know what i am capable of. will i ever show them?

thai time.
shukran wa salam.

more later. tip of today's world.

birds

i can hear it now/i never knew what it was until five minutes ago/the rain/the pouring rain/god's fingers ferociously typing away at this keyboard we call earth/directing us where she wants us to go/program without end/she must have been tired last summer/wanted to give us a break/let us choose our own path for a brief while/she's back at it though/back at it this time with purpose/it explains the lethargy/the tired/the reused underused overfucking used that i see in every eye i catch/the burnt the fuck out/the nothing else matters but sleep right now/we are being recharged/renewed/it's draining at first but at first glimpse of that sunlight, our rejuvenator, our charger, improvements will surface/our little lives will become bigger our faces turned upward and corners of our mouths pointing North screaming THANK YOU for this THANK YOU for me/when we have exausted all that we have left those fingers will attack again the rivers grow the faces lose that passion and hearts turn to anger yet again/if, however, god should not type as she does, work like she does, to change us/to change this earth/we would never see the energy reappear/we would forget/i never want to forget/that energy/that beauty that i sense without sensation when i feel that sunrise on a wednesday morning and know that the birds will not seek refuge today/they will soar, dive, live as best they know/no more suffering/no more suffering/in that instant that we all turn our faces to the sun

are you out there, can you hear me?

if you can...let me know.
it's nice to know that you see it, too.
whatever it is ...

missing in action

a computer screen
screaming at me here, sitting, staring, engulfed
has won my life, and yours, too

but there's one thing we all have that they can't.
photos. memories. lives. life. living anything that moves walks breathes feels.
we treat them better than the person sitting next to us on the bus (because, well, we don't know that guy). we hail them as if everything we are is contained on that white orange blue and green screaming screen when really, nothing. is there. nothing. it is light. mixed around and moved quickly so quickly that my cannon can't capture it's moments.
maybe this is just for me. so that i can remind myself. that i'm here for you. and the trees. and my cat. and our interaction. and your smile and your eyes those glass balls placed strategically to appear as ovals. tricky bastards. yeah. not for the tv. or this goddamn phone. or this computer that will soon die and take all of me that i thought was contained within with it.
digitization, my friends, is NOT the answer to our problems. WE are.

back to eyes

some say that a soul can't exist in a photo
i think it can

when i stare you down from behind
you know i am watching

when i glance and turn away a second too late
i know you know. you know i know.

when you tell that lie. straight face and all.
your eyes are blushing.

when those tears are waiting for me to leave.
i see them in wait.

i truly believe that eyes are the window to truth.

watch your step

you might fall
walking that way
you don't lift your feet
you're dragging your heels
i can hear the soles of your shoes from here
scraping along at a turtle's pace

pick it up. stick that chin into the air and declare!
it's a good day! a smiling day! a boot-kicking, trouble-sifting, soul-lifting happy day! get some skip in your step, some jive in your lip, let it all roll.
like fred told us in '98, keep rollin' rollin' rollin' rollin'.
if you stop now, you'll never know
how beautiful this hiphophappy day can be!



___________________________________


really now. on my knees to the good sandman asking him to stay away. sleeping as i'm walking as i'm talking right now. thought maybe a quick adventure in the school of upbeat internal diologue might turn it around for me, but alas! i have faltered.

blind in one eye

we are all blind in one eye.
for most, however, this is not a physical fact, but a subconscious choice.
how can a choice be subconscious? you ask me
i suppose i'll throw you now into the loophole i've created for this problem.
it's retroactive. each of us with a mind, a heart, a will that is good discover this blind eye at least once in our lives. we realize, we guilt, we wonder, we hate ourselves because of it. we see it not with the other eye, which would be a feat among feats, i'm sure you can imagine, but with our emotion. we realize that we have turned off that part of us that really and truly and desperately cares.

that eye we don't look through sees the pain of those we have never encountered. the poor man endlessly and unsuccessfully ASKING with no pride left to hold on to to PLEASE allow him to work so that he can feed his children. this eye sees him turned away, defeated, degraded, time. after time. after time.

this eye i speak of sees the mother of three living in a shelter because yes. her boyfriend thought of her body. as something. to own. and their bodies. as something. to own.

it sees en masse children of a darker skin than mine with bellies too big and arms too small to seem real. their smiles when somebody hands them a piece of candy. their tears when nobody can help them when they hurt.

it sees children with a lighter skin than mine in the same situation. across a sea, a desert, a world apart. they are not a world apart.

this eye sees a fourteen-year old boy from chicago who can't seem to face the world today. it's sunny and 75 but he's locked himself in the room that he thinks of as his only safe place. nobody has noticed the burns on his arms. he's never let anybody see him cry. but this eye that we've blinded sees it. it. that eye. always sees him cry.

it sees the twenty-something tranny woman who can't go on one. more. goddamn. day. because her boss refuses. to recognize her. as her. her family refuses. REFUSES. to see her. as HER. it sees her run away. kill the pain. kill the pain everyday. but she is still cold. she is still lonely.

the eye we've turned off. sees everything. that we would rather it not. and when we notice that we have it. we see through it for the first time. and feel what it feels every day. ...
we want to help. change. act. activate. voice. yell. shout. scream. be heard. help those that our eye catches be heard. we want to cry for them hold them feel them need them. we know that we can help. someway. somehow. though it will never be enough. so we make a plan we rise up in our idea of ourselves for the bettering of lives of others. we are ready. solid. firm in our beliefs. we've seen through that eye. and we won't take it anymore.

we cry ourselves to sleep thinking about what we've seen...
we close our eyes...
and in the morning. that eye.
is blind again.

blind.