I wish I could scrapbook my mind
share all the time-moments and lapse-memories
Revealing all instance of treasured love's beginning:
I would thus artifact
(for you) my existence.
As, merely, I am the sum of subsequent parts
a conglomerate of feeling, choice and pieces of heart.
I wish I could choose you.
I wish I could choose,
and also with you.
Amen my brother, you agree?
Peace be in the antiquated moments of fleeting
vulnerabilities.
Peace be in the shade of a forest you sang for me.
Peace be in the broken-sun streaming across your cheek.
Peace be in the love made quietly in a room shared on a street I drive past just to remember.
Amen my brother.
I wish I could choose you.
I wish I could keep all I have made and carry with them along, as I have carried
And you
carried on for so long.
I wish I could take up with some simultaneous rage
of mind and intellect and heart.
of ours and mine and make it new-now together.
Peace be in a stool in a shop near Haight.
Peace be in corner of 6th and Mesa in the town we met together.
Peace be in you seated on a rock-stage of our play to the ocean-audience of romance past.
Amen, my brother.
Under the guise of now,
I keep you,
like a favorite tune,
to remind me a time I used to like to sing.
A time, that given all appropriate conditions,
would return to,
Now you may be seated.
Amen my brother, you agree?
My Ashbury trinket
My San Pedro secret
My leitmotif and very life's theme
set to the composition
(Unaware,
Unintending, perhaps)
You scored me.
Is peace really found in the antiquated moments of fleeting vulnerabilities or is passion?
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteDear Anonymous,
ReplyDeleteI am not sure really what the difference is for me. I think that I find peace where I find passion; or maybe I am most at peace when I have something that incites my passion; or maybe, this is the big Maybe sort of Maybe, I find the two actually distinct and mutually exclusive. The later is probably the closest to the truth, all previous sentences are justifications for how I fool myself. I think I should have written 'passion' and not 'peace' at all- I will need to consider this more.
Do you find peace and passion mutually exclusive, synonymous, or some other way related?
I think the relationship between peace and passion depends on one's self-awareness and level of risk. Simple peace is easily attainable when one lives within a nice comfort zone, but true peace only comes after one experiences limitless passion--the type of passion induced by letting yourself become truly vulnerable. Only after you've become fully exposed, entrenched, and possibly rejected by someone can you approach peace. Then again, it's highly likely that I have no idea what I'm talking about.
ReplyDeleteDear Anonymous,
ReplyDeletePerhaps, then, lodged in the moment between the breath and the kiss- the exposed, entrenched, and rejected experience- that is the place before the peace? Yes, perhaps.
I agree that wherever peace is, it is reached alone, though I am not sure that rejection must necessarily proceed. I agree that to appreciate the peace, we must have been entrenched, engulfed, far from reach. The peace then would not come from the hand up, but in the hand extended?. Or is that grace?.
Exposed, yes, like raw-film footage of a time spent together, but so distant now that all we see are the negatives. Perhaps, it is in the state of peace we set down the camera strung from around our neck, ready-eager to document the Next, and (breathe) proceed. Into our lives, into our adjacent, parallel experiences and relinquish the need to make them next intersect.
Peace could also be like a secret. Known, carried, whispered and drown out among voices eager to hear their thinking, their needs, their heartaches-passion amplified.
If, as we've agreed, that peace is reached alone, why do we surround ourselves with "loved" ones? Are they pawns in our hopeful quests for peace?
ReplyDeleteDear Anonymous,
ReplyDeleteI surround myself by my beloveds to tease myself that I am not alone. I thought that by allowing myself the chance to grow roots, spread branches, that I might, perhaps, grow even beyond myself.
My narcism brings me back. I am all I seem to be able to think of. And, what a tease it is to think that by bearing fruit I would have unburdened myself of the weighted, fated, blossoms. They wilt, yet still and below me, the baskets of my harvest are full. I have achieved my heart's-dream, my tease of lonely-days are over, but I have gained responsibility beyond measure, and within that, have relinquished all response(ability) to one of my top-five.
In other words, peace is not achieved. My five are not all, simultaneously, in reach and if peace is only achieved through solo-pursuit, I am a firm, five-miled trek up the alternate path.
ReplyDelete