Goings

It's funny how someone can just walk through a door, and that's it - they're gone. They become dissolved in the world of chaos and beauty and are off to new place - better place; to meet people - better people. But they will often see the worst of things, and keep the beauty they once had as their light. But the fact still remains that they are gone. Just like that. And there is nothing you can do to stop them because they have no choice but to venture. You think of the places they will go and what they will discover because you can't wait to hear about it while you stay and while you wait. There are things to say that are left unsaid because you haven't the slightest clue whether they will hear it over their excitement, because it is truly exciting. They are off; they have things to do and people to meet and years - years to live. They will run away and honestly, who knows if you will see them again because life gets pretty crazy, right? 

The unsaid remains unsaid  and we go about our different ways because people move, people die, people have families, and people grow up. But damn, goodbyes are hard.
 -
“And the danger is that in this move toward new horizons and far directions, that I may lose what I have now, and not find anything except loneliness” Sylvia Plath

Alone With Everybody - Charles Bukowski

the flesh covers the bone
and they put a mind
in there and
sometimes a soul,
and the women break
vases against the walls
and the men drink too
much
and nobody finds the
one
but keep
looking
crawling in and out
of beds.
flesh covers
the bone and the
flesh searches
for more than
flesh.

there's no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.

nobody ever finds
the one.

the city dumps fill
the junkyards fill
the madhouses fill
the hospitals fill
the graveyards fill

nothing else
fills.

 



 

Dear True Love - Sleeping At Last

We are all liars;
Scratching the floors for the truth underground.
What have we but the guts of flowers?
The innermost tragedy of beauty.
-
Seldom are we dancing with the river,
For we are busied thinking it fog
To compensate for the lack of the Autumn
And to create havens for the poor.
-
Let our nails mark the absence of time
On the willows,
And let us dig into our own graves
Creating peace with its ghosts.
 -
For there is nothing like the peace of the deceased
Who are happy in their sleep.
They were once liars, holding their lips
And lifting wood into the skies.

Fragmented phrases of thoughts I have recently had, sorted into lines that flow. Poetry.

Us

I lay myself into the wood
Where the grass's warmth dissolves into my skin,
But the trees bury the source.
Birds keep songs tucked into their mouths,
And widows kneed webs under sickly branches.
Theses creatures, do they provide substance?
Are they not merely survivalists,
Living blindly with nothing more than the instincts of their stomachs?
We then lift our hands to break them of their unholiness
For we assume God has made imperfect life.

But are we not thieves of their beloved ground?
It is us who are the useless.
Useless creatures under forgiving skies.

For if the air ceased circulation,
And the sun was shunned by more than the trees,
Would the universe take heed in our disappearance?
Would the stars mourn to compensate for our race?

The flowers wilt because it is their time
And the ants under seeds live for their ignorance,
But we do not carry the weight of a blind head.
Who are we to define purpose?
For we are only incomplete.
Simply incomplete creatures resigned within a universe in negligence

What we see is still are things that do not breathe

If you lie there motionless they’d kill you in your sleep

Ferry Cross The Mersey - Gerry And The Peacemakers

A Little Background

 

This song was produced by Sir George Martin who is accountable for many of the Beatles recordings as well. Like the Beatles, Gerry and the Peacemakers were a Liverpool band where The river Mersey (70 miles) is located and can still see the ferry cross the Mersey today, moving from Liverpool to around Manchester. This song hit the number top tens in the UK in 1964 (the US in 1965), and at the same time, a movie called "Ferry cross The Mersey" was created, lifting the popularity of the song and film. The lyrics are sometimes portrayed as "Ferry, 'cross the Mersey", indicating that "cross" is short for "across", but according to the album spelling and movie, the word is correctly "cross", making the statement a command or request often made by the captain of the ferry.  

 

 

I honestly cannot get enough of this.

I dig this band, possibly because I love

the Beatles, but also because this particular

 song is full of history.

The Garden

I touched the blue leaves and the ice upon my fingertips melted in my skin. Blue veins, like my own, crept through the leaves in wisps of lavender, and I was overcome with grief for disrupting the temperatures of the earth. Yet, the some clovers which stood before me have never tasted the foreign fingertips of the earth's machines.

The frost covered thorned branches stared across the sky, but did not move. I ran my palm along the outer edges of a branch and watched defected snow die in my hands again. Guilty with my actions, I sat on the damp grass and gazed at the gray sky, dusted with streaks of white and indigo. Everything seemed to hold an undertone of light that connected, and I felt myself fade away within the skies and the leaves and the branches of blue.

Yet, I was overcome with despondence, as if the sky was fading into its white innocence while I sat in the envied grass. My heart had taken the life from earths togetherness and my mind had made me an enemy of the frost. 

Untitled

I like to tell myself that I can let go easily, but I always end up with my eyes closed and arms outstretched, hoping that in sometime and in someplace, someone would come back.
I am afraid to say goodbyes because in my gut, there's always a sense of doubt that I will be remembered.
I wish to be remembered, and I wish to talk to you and I believe in love and I just want to be happy in my future. I want to love people and to live freely doing things that give me joy.
I envision love and I envision nice weather and when I close my eyes I just want to be loved and to love and sometimes I think of you and sometimes I think of life and death or which way the wind is blowing
I just want to sit in a silence that is never moved and be in good company. That's all I really want. Good company.

Blue World - Mel Torme

It's a blue world without you,
It's a blue world alone;
My days and nights, that once were filled with heaven,
With you away, how empty they have grown!

It's a blue world from now on,
It's a through world for me;
The sea, the sky,
My heart and I,
We're all an indigo hue!
Without you it's a blue blue world.