there it was
there in front of me
my eyes wide like a child's
looking and seeing
something
that spoke to something deep inside me
something that only gets spoken to in the clearest of moments
something that only gets comprehended in the clearest of moments-
so here i am all cried out
searching for something to grab a hold of
someone once told me
i'd find my splintered parts coming together if i visited my birthplace-
someone else told me
home is where you are
that way you are never far from yourself-
i'm looking all around me
looking fro something that makes as much sense as that moment
a place of fire and drums
nothing around me makes the sense i want it to
it's all coded words that mean nothing that fill me with
nothing..
she said that creating creativity is being truly in the moment
being present at all the right times-
sitting here eating a cookie with orange sprinkles on it
seems like some sort of metaphor to the way i've been mostly, up till today-
my mother called me last night
with that loneliness in the back of her voice
i couldn't talk to her
but the sound in her voice haunted my company all night
i woke today thinking of what it is she is paying for in her minutes that are spent in silence-
something big
I figured
someone was really hurt and she's paying dearly for it now-
a spark of anger crossed my heart and i heard her telling me things that she had no
business saying..
as i stretched out
i waited for a solid reason why i can't speak up when i hear that loneliness creeping out of her words over the phone
answering myself
why i turn off when i sense the doom-
then i remembered who the emotional reparations were for-
someone named me..
I walk to the market and speak a little spanish to the people who represent the bigger picture of what i could be-
wondering why i always feel so small when i walk away from them
wondering if they feel the void i'm carrying around in my pocket-
she told me to keep trying in my own way
because there are more out there just like me-
i stop when i'm feeling broken and think about the fire and the drums
and i wonder if i didn't let myself go completely by crying the way I wanted to so badly-
prepping some sort of woman in my head to carry the weight of a thousand sorrows on her back all over again-
when it stops i'm gonna put all the bags down
cause my eyes can see the brighter day ahead
I just keep holding my heart out whenever i think i've found the right spaces to fill it with
but somehow the space is empty before long and i'm out looking again..
how much can i let go so i can live every moment in and of itself
how can i be conscious of myself more
deciding that while i was born with my eyes wide open
i've been slowly closing them every since-
along with the millions of restless souls around me called brothers and sisters-
repenting now for the careless ways i've been treating my spirit lately-
feeding it evilness- cigarettes and drinks that time after time drag me down-
Frozen in my expanse of mistakes i pick up every wrongdoing and try to realize how it's bad for me-
while i'm thinking clearer i'm feeling the wild hope i've got racing around my head.
i'm secretly looking for the complete me
for once i'm not looking for someone else- that will only confuse me more-
so much more could i be confused i know
i'm just trying to hold onto his hand as he raised mine to his head in thanks
i just wanted to hold him and feel the spirit he held-
the rhythm he felt in the drum
the unthreatening warmth he felt as he put his entire body in the flame-
why is that the unseen fires are the hardest to put out and are more visible then an actual flame...
10.21.02
