Wednesday, April 13, 2005
the most perfect eyes...
One of those rare occasions where the angle of light is perfect, and the from across the room a smile breaks out that speaks in possibilities. Those endearing moments when there is a glimpse of everything that COULD be in a flash. Now, I am not saying that everyhitng that could be will happen, but it is beautiful nevertheless when secret doors open, even if it is only for a fraction of a second between bored glances at a watch and hopeful nods of ascension to a discussion I can't follow. (I can only hope these words won't be read and misinterpreted, but such is life. Besides, we already talked about this, and hopefully it is clear that words are no more inherently true or false than the user, and here, of all places, you cannot doubt my honesty, because no matter what words I choose, the basic provence of my writing is obfuscation and reference, nothing more or less.)
Afte the relative insecurity of the weekend's events, it was something perhaps necesary to note the gradual shifting in the fault lines of my life. I don't mind the earthquake, though the treason is hard to bear at times. But the most fundamental thing about the situation is the delight in the possible. Were this back before the Sox won the World Series, I would use this as a example of faith, and why faith is so important. Instead, I am relegated to noting that faith in and of itself, whether it be spiritual, or simply belief in the viability of a smile can be among the more beautiful things in life. Faith implies trust, desire, history, and the future, among other things. Faith in the inescapable conclusion of humanity is not in and of itself that impressive. For me, what makes makes moments like that a true beautiful occasion is not that shit WILL work out as you dream, but that it can. For the first time in a while, I remember clearly the difference between an indentured smile and the hidden smile I don;t think I was meant to see. And it was beautiful, and amazing, and something I will always remember.
What I most wonder about people in general is if they can see the world around them, and if so, how? Is the relation to the inane and powerful the same? Is it enough to see the possibility, or must it go farther? For me, all that needs to exist is the dark horse possibility that possiblity might be realized. It isn't vapid, but I think sometimes it is close to it. At any rate, I think that is enough crazy ranting for one night, and that is all I can say, excpet, to the owner of those perfect eyes..."Wow. You'll probobly never know what I saw there, and I will probobly never be able to explain it past the most rudimentary syllables and esoteric phrases. I can only hope this doesn't totally freak you out, but here on the Brown Couch, that's just the way it works.
cf
-----
oh, and a new poem...hey, we all fuck around sometimes...
"Water"
one night I sat home stoned,
jim was saying something about
texas radio, the big beat,
but then he didn’t say nothing about
texas heat burning holes on my tongue
draining water
rambunctious on my tongue, but
wishing I was in the rain
drenched, but warm,
summer rain in the afternoon
lastly something flashed in distant waves
vision roiled whitecaps
centered me on feathery licks of a lovers tongue
what it was,
what it couldn't be
passion fires mysteriously,
stand on a shore,
watching water roll on
-----
cf
Afte the relative insecurity of the weekend's events, it was something perhaps necesary to note the gradual shifting in the fault lines of my life. I don't mind the earthquake, though the treason is hard to bear at times. But the most fundamental thing about the situation is the delight in the possible. Were this back before the Sox won the World Series, I would use this as a example of faith, and why faith is so important. Instead, I am relegated to noting that faith in and of itself, whether it be spiritual, or simply belief in the viability of a smile can be among the more beautiful things in life. Faith implies trust, desire, history, and the future, among other things. Faith in the inescapable conclusion of humanity is not in and of itself that impressive. For me, what makes makes moments like that a true beautiful occasion is not that shit WILL work out as you dream, but that it can. For the first time in a while, I remember clearly the difference between an indentured smile and the hidden smile I don;t think I was meant to see. And it was beautiful, and amazing, and something I will always remember.
What I most wonder about people in general is if they can see the world around them, and if so, how? Is the relation to the inane and powerful the same? Is it enough to see the possibility, or must it go farther? For me, all that needs to exist is the dark horse possibility that possiblity might be realized. It isn't vapid, but I think sometimes it is close to it. At any rate, I think that is enough crazy ranting for one night, and that is all I can say, excpet, to the owner of those perfect eyes..."Wow. You'll probobly never know what I saw there, and I will probobly never be able to explain it past the most rudimentary syllables and esoteric phrases. I can only hope this doesn't totally freak you out, but here on the Brown Couch, that's just the way it works.
cf
-----
oh, and a new poem...hey, we all fuck around sometimes...
"Water"
one night I sat home stoned,
jim was saying something about
texas radio, the big beat,
but then he didn’t say nothing about
texas heat burning holes on my tongue
draining water
rambunctious on my tongue, but
wishing I was in the rain
drenched, but warm,
summer rain in the afternoon
lastly something flashed in distant waves
vision roiled whitecaps
centered me on feathery licks of a lovers tongue
what it was,
what it couldn't be
passion fires mysteriously,
stand on a shore,
watching water roll on
-----
cf
