Wednesday, June 23, 2010

Tunnel from the back of the eye

Uniforms stand to hawk wares in crowded aisles. "These feet are not common. They make walking a massage." The small child stands, continuing to stare, not fear, not happiness, just misunderstanding, misunderstanding and disinterest. The broken eye looks on with only the mildest if care as they all try to ferret out the truth with their fingers. I will tell you a secret. "It is all fake." But this must be said in a whisper so as not to cause a panic. The banks may be rushed as they all learn it was only ever for playing games.
Hills roll by me again with greater speed but less satisfaction. I miss tasting my scenery. I don't want to, but that should make it simpler, but so much less satisfying.
Bang baby, only ever bang.
A blue light will find us what is true in a moment. Don't tell Socrates he may think the hemlock no worth it. But despite so much truth being being shouted in your ear, all the secrets to finding it being let out, a house, small and mud still sits by the lake. only fields around it cards falling down, but they cannot touch its calm or disturb its surface.
People around all have the truth, no need to worry. guess I'm the only one left to watch the walls wiggle.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Pusa's in the Rain

Now my hands just shake. Struggling to pull the plastic back. Waiting as the same eyes look on. But the rain, memories of the rain. You look gorgeous in the rain. “I have never stood in it for so long.” It can be good to stand in the rain. “Yes, yes it can. I like the rain now.” It can take just a moment to flip a coin. Was it the first or second kiss, that changed her mind? Or maybe it was the 5th, or tenth or that last one after so many more, or my hand tracing the black streak that lay across her face. Hands steadied to pull back the stray strands of hair. Telephone wires divide the sky here as they did there.
Always out of the rain just in time, or lucky enough to be caught by the most timely of rains. Running down your face, making it all glitter like your eyes. You keep saying the words I want to hear but have stopped expecting to come. Moving the way I wanted others to move but have given up on finding. Lips soft and you know how to feel and push. Always give a small kiss after the first long one, good advice. Advice remembered holding you in the crowd as music thumps. In the alley where we walk away from them all. And of course as we stand in the rain.
Fate throwing funny things my way when least expected. Throwing those things most needed, wanted and desired but only when not looked for only when the mind and heart are clear to see. I also know not where we are going but go together and out paths maybe smoother or at least flanked by brighter scenery. And faces first seen in just passing can come to be so much more. How could we ever have know? And never will we know where other faces glanced over and left behind may have gone.

The voices come and so I go
Waiting for those cold stares
From the smokey eyes.
And other lost boys found.
Bring them to play
With those who have been stories
Heard from behind
Or over endless tables in a thousand places.
Words made flesh never have the same shape
But how pleasing suprises can turn out to be
Raindrops down
Beats drop and hips can move
Eyes throw only glances
But lips don’t lie or seek to hide.
You say my poker face is blank
Yours vague as well but
Then the need is gone and the game dropped
Tomorrow I will see you
Even when tonight neither of us wants to go
So we stand, and speak much more
with our silence
As the rain falls down
Blue, always ever blue.
And I will learn to be water,
And the rain becomes me.

Monday, August 10, 2009

Coming to the uroburos

a pink rabbit not a white one, always have been, what about you? ecstatic joy brought from calm breath as hands weave through the air and eyes open to see the figure head. stopped, but never still, humming, humming gently or violently inside i cannot tell. i just know that i saw the flash that was not there and shall not return. so many flashes, but only ever one. my mind trying to catch me again, laying out trip lines of words. but i won't let it. madness is too much fun. i go back home and will see more of the faces that have not known me since i broke my mind and found that the pieces were more fun to play with than putting it back together. fun games to be played with wooden balls. makes some marks on the surface or just sit and stare at their grain, certainly cannot decide now, the coins have yet to fall. the inked one will appreciate the sound of madness, and we will want to swing and duck. give those in a suit a reason to respect or cross the street when they see crouchers on the street, they just won't understand or maybe i am being to hard on the shells. i kept going to sleep wondering what was missing. something off or wrong. i know the warmth hadn't always been there, hadn't even been there for long, but when it wasn't it seemed as if a world from before had disappeared. the price one pays for keeping the mind of water, for diving into everything. when you leave one pool for the next you are always changing the world entirely, always being born again. all you have ever known stripped away and replaced by the new. a price or a gift depending on the circumstance and the formation of the clouds. the stone floor rippled like water today, and exploded all over with sparks of color. i think everyone else just saw the unchanging grey, but they don't know that the walls aren't real. the world is just a cellophane wrapping around us, only getting its solidity and truth from those who don't bother to question or wont be washed away by wonder.

Wandering they did, they were given my chance.They took it and they ran, they ran to places beautiful. rivers pouring down mountains, tears pouring down like i could not imagine. i sat in the bars, ran in the streets danced with the girls and threw my words on the wall. he went and heard the stories of pain that no man should have to feel, and after, no one should want to or have to hear,but he did, she did, they did. they wanted to they went for it. he rode on gears that move and spin through sweat and tears that poured down their faces. she watched them bend the legs and place the bits so they could raise themselves to walk endlessly but always look down into that face they understood. i stood and painted or sat and spoke just to understand. pictures on a wall, no pain brought in so that they could learn to make it stop. not visions and words to prevent those who have died or suffered from having to die again. just there to hear and be with ones who didn't want to accept, those who want blue on their ankles and chose to put it on the walls. was i a waste, should i have tried to save a life. i did not try but maybe i did. she told me life wasn't worth living, i spent a week, or was it two, making her see how it was. showed her the first glimpses she had of a soft world. just as i showed the other ice fall from the sky for the first time and as we walked away from that last cigarette the dolphin swam away, not with a goodbye, as so often has been the case, through lack of acceptance or just lack of doubt that there will be another time to share. i kept that knife away, maybe just for a day, but giving a day to think just a little but more. did i save him, who sat, coming with no purpose not destination only a sound in the distance, after it had ended, to draw them in. we sat. them both with ink on their hands, but having seen so much, having given and cried and walked with those who had none and we only wanted to give all too. "i felt that they had given so much to me and i had nothing to give to them, and still they kept giving to me." the hearts seeming so right through the words they threw to us with miles behind. but then the eye that pierces and repulse comes back in. the voice from home that they said could not be seen as distant after to many voices had been seen as so, is and it hurts me, but seemingly only me as they put on the smiles that say yes, but twinge with the no. and the words fall like the petals of a flower bloomed and wilted too soon.
it came and went, i wanted to be and could not. so i ran when they went to rest, when the world had ended them. i ran through the streets to get away from them. i knew where i was going but did not know how. and so i had to stop, and turn and look and wait where i did not expect. i stopped to look in their eyes. thinking they would not know as i had, and i saw it. pupils clear and dark. like yours as we lay there tired, no want or strength to move (at least not in me), talking about those half close eyes and clear blue brows which made our hearts want to move. you to yours, and me to mine. i worried i had hurt you that time, but still i wanted and you seemed to want it too so that i would not wait, would not worry but jumped in to hold again.
i wanted to have a moment with those who knew because they were the ones who should. a moment came, others made it feel like it had gone in an instant, only in the pupils. gone when they blinked and the eyes spread again. she made such beauty, it made butterflys in my mind, swimming, not flying but swimming through the matter. she came in and pressed to pull back when i went to make it close, and came touching in wanting to tell through giving as i pulled away. they came from the place of so many others who are forgotten. the forgotten in the front of my mind, but not for them. letting them in i do not know them, tried to show them me. maybe made them understand and find a hope i looked for myself, maybe i just got them drunk.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

She came in from the blue

"Make a wish"
Blue, the color of my life is blue. Voices coming, telling me to go. To wander and see. Things will be waiting. Taking their time to unfold. Go, it will be ready when you are back. Torn blue bags look just like yellow flowers, where birds must fight the wind and men sit to smoke while their sheep become models. Mountains distant, low and rolling. Before they stood all around like giants. No menace, only to show roads. Beijing and presents of Mongolian food. Watch out for the man in the green shirt, he wants to leave you with the bill. I will take you to the temple when i get back beautiful. You missed out on this trip but maybe there is still time for us. The crow caws as he is able to make his way forward at last.
Waving fans they dance and laugh and sing.
Fiddles and drums in the streets.
Final crescendo as the light has just died.
They smile wider when they see me.
She stands by my side.
The ring. The ring like hers.
Running through streets. Racing ahead. Red hair trailing. Sisters and brothers of before.
Childhood games.
"Zai lai."
"He wants me to take more pictures."
Take all you would like.
Dark rooms where light, light is the key.
You stand and breathe.
And the mind swims.
Children's day.
Still days ahead.
Places to be, days to travel.
The road is good she says.
We can go that way.

Rolling, rolling, rolling.
The clouds are perfect. Dragons streaking the sky. That's the kind of cloud i want to be. "The fluffy kind, like cotton candy." Men ride horses through the streets. Here we have found it. No desert, but certainly the village. "You just use your hands." Cut meat off the bone. "Gan bei." Another glass empty. I begin to feel it in the back of my head. The edges of my vision but i go on. It is so easy to get caught in the spirit. 4 races, we have three here now. Maybe i would have been the champion. Gotten to choose any of the women as my prize. "No punching, no kicking, anything else." Chase down a wolf, i want to hunt it with my hands. But no, no more. Retching, retching a green that should not leave the body. Just let me sleep, the world is too heavy for me right now. I hurt her. I've hurt myself. Maybe this time i will learn to stop.

And she came bacl. When my mind is broken she comes back. "What happened with your ex?" Too much love, too many problems, too much hurt and trying. The ring, the eyelash, even the walk brings back the memories. Sets the mind to trouble, causes noise and problems that i am not stable enough to deal with. Sand slips from underneath you so easily. Deserts are tricky, shifting places. You just have to keep going to prevent falling too much.

Lines divide the sky. What might have been and what has been.

She huddles behind, hiding from the cold, maybe hiding from the wings. She does remind me but it it certainly not her. Just another lovely girl. She is gone, our harms done to each other. I think it best our story ended. A drink it may be best we never have. If i win i get a horse he says, red. But blue is where my heart stays. Standing and just watching. I like your desert very much. The blue, and ocean alone in the desert. What, what can one say when all is in what was done. Always blue, brighter adn brighter. Driving on in the dark, but with the path of light so bright above. So, so many stars, one must stop to be lost. The cold moments, before so important, so consuming gone in an instant as you breath in all that light for just one second. Everywhere they leap out like flowers desperate to find a place in the sky. And their slow chanting, his just beneath the breath, reaches up also. The morning does not seem so dark, nor so cold, nor the body so tired. The path was dark, but following, following the light. Don't get lost in the dust for the ground below is not stable, cannot be in dream worlds where flowers seek to fly and stars come down to fill your lungs.

Stars may not come out
but light can be made to rise up.
Calm and sober, the light just plays.
Skin bronze and eyes that only shine
as they take in this light first seen.
I will go to bring more fuel.
"Yes, but please keep talking."
Why the dogs will not stop barking i do not know.
I so no reason they should with Chang-E
and the rabbit out to hear them sing.

And the road rolls on through landscape that bring memories of home, is that word has meaning more than just convenience i do not know. But i can feel her laughing and smiling behind. "Are we still in China?" Yes, if that word has and meaning beyond convenience. The candle keeps burning lower. A table littered with hours of a lifetime. The hills roll. Memories coming back and being made. I told you it would be beautiful, you just have to trust. "It has begun to rain." No, not rain. Rain doesn't bounce. The rain is hard yes, but that is not rain. "I have never seen it before, hail." I am very glad to have shown you. Drenched in just an instant. "I like rain that is hard, I love the sun after the rain." I can see, i can see the smile on your face brighter than the sun. As she stands starring up, smiling, i just watch. This moment is for appreciating the beauty of another in wonder.

I came looking, looking. Mind set. The path, i believed i already knew. She had been and i told myself would be again. But past smiles and glances, it did not go beyond. Walls preventing unspoken words from breaking through the lips. And so the mind closed a bit, the setteling came in. But the a girl, she came with us but seen only out of the corner of my eye. A skirt twirling. Sitting alone for those few moments. Musice stopped. Waiting for other minds to pull away from the beat and for bodies to gather. The alley glistens. Puddles and refuse. But we sat looking forward and began to dance. But the steps seem so much more natural. I will take you and you will go. And they come back. The moment over, what it was ment for passed. A day, a day spent to see you, to see you in the light to know what it may be to ride to have you by my side as skies change and views fly by. And the first smiles and laughs begin, and the first moments of knowing and seeing you.
And the coin drops as the light rises. I wait for you and we go. Travel begun but not to far.
What was i to know. Things started so quietly. Eagerness wanting you that first night. Your beauty a funny thing for me to come to know. At first unseen through the anxiety. Then like the unseen force of a magnet pushing me away. You were soft. It felt good to have you touch me and me touch you. The same smell in the evening and in the morning. But the images in the back of my head pulled me away. Stopped me from getting lost as i so wanted to. Lying on my knee, a sky so blue. I want to shout out to it, clouds pass on legs, and my fingers wind in your hair. Content, yes, happy, yes but i could not want you because in your voice i heard hers, in your walk saw hers and she is gone, is not wanted back or only with a friendly smile. And it was there to hurt me, to hurt you. It was there preventing the moment from coming to be, preventing it from being right till it broke me. Till it drove me to jump into the black hoping i could come out again with nothing clinging. And i did. Crawling wretching i was able to see you for the first time, see your beauty as your alone, see it so i could want it. "What happened?" I told you, but at that point it no longer mattered, it no longer clouded my eyes and yours no longer looked into mine. Riding, dancing, eating, talking and i wonder why your eyes no longer look. Did i hurt you that bad, are there things i don't remember. I keep smiling, you keep your eyes from being too open again. "I don't forget, I don't give a second chance." Not the yogi reaching in but the scorpion, or maybe just the man on the bank, your voice rising over the hum of the engine. Anothers eyes you cannot see through, and sometimes not even imagine that you may be missing something. Hands so scarred. The sting bringing no apprehension, not even a moment of hesitation before reaching back into the water no matter how many drops of mine have stained it already. Coming to want you after climbing back out, but gone. Gone like the one before that i came to see too late. Body so fine, eyes like smoke. Light rising, a look into your eyes and we part to see again but not to be again.
Ice fell, horses ran, we drank and laughed but not as the wonderland in my head teases it could have been. Do i regret? It would be a lie to say i didn't, a strike against you to help my pride. I wish i could have given you what i really am before i made you turn away. Not to save my pride, a concern long left behind, but because i think you would have liked it and it is nice to make you smile. But regret does nothing except pull at wounds so that scars cannot heal. So regret i wish to turn to lessons. Maube my mind won't be torn next time, maybe i won't have to jump into blackness just so i can crawl out to see clearly. Would have liked to hold you in the black dress or the white. Would have liked to have your hands around my waste for miles more than they rested there. But although my mind will keep making wonderlands it is for me to learn that they may only come from what may be not from dreams and untrod paths of what may have been.

Walking, slowly, away. The walk, the voice, shot back over the shoulder. I watch as she walks away down the alley and can only think, can only say i wrote about you today. They asked asked about what happened with us. "I feel bad for anyone that falls in love with her now." I think i am crazy enough that is could have worked. where we would have ended up, a dart on a map, a die thrown on a table. Better for us both? " I'm crazy, but Rabbit is crazier." Yes, crazy and i am not looking to come back. Thats why we could have had fun. A figure walking away. Red, and the light shines ahead and the small swagger. What might have been is an abstraction.

And the silhouette will stay. Sky turning blue, pale blue dress. The light goes out and your skin glows. "Mongolia seems so long ago." Yes, memories sitting in the head. Looks and words. Beginning we never know where it will end, ending we never know when it may begin again. A dolphin diving through the sand, swimming through the throbbing night, resting in the light of the rising sun. A sun that rises everyday to set everynight.

She was beautiful, she was crazy, she slept on the back of the motorcycle as i rode.

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Letter to the lost

--o-- Tranquility- With tranquility, the small goes and the great -- --comes, with auspicious success.
-- -- Heaven and earth interacting is tranquility. Thus do leaders ----- administer the ways of heaven and earth assisting the
----- balance of heaven and earth to help
----- the people.
----- 6. Yin- When the citadel walls crumble into the moat, do not deploy the army. Trying to promulgate order from your own home town is shameful even if it is right.

Broken glass has stopped them all.
For what reason does this fighting go on.
You wanting to see the angry child still crying bitterly at his loneliness.
Me peering harder and harder for fangs being licked by a honeyed tongue.
The water speaks.
Today it has been everywhere, water touching all that i have.
The rain always helps me think
calms the mind
cools the fire
Does it help you?
So many accidents today.
We seek demons in each other. Not so that we may turn our backs and run, or shun the other, but always with words of guidance.
Attempts to right the steering of a ship we see headed for rocks.
I walk and stare
Caught for a moment by the reflection
brought by a passing light.
White and straight, but ah
so many paths at the end
breaking off to vanish in blackness.
Gone in an instant.
She was beautiful.
The MC asks for all the big eyed girls to holler.
I liked saying confusing things to her, it made her eyes go wider
She called me Superman, i think she said her name was Ruby, i just called her beautiful.
Broken glass strewn across the street. Trucks backed up for miles.
I like China because you can pee anywhere.
Can the nature of a strong love be that you always feel the need to be active in it.
That you cannot enjoy the calm and just sit?
I think it can.
It has been for me.
I had wanted to sleep outside.
Wake to the mountains,
maybe even with the sun.
Stand out under the night sky naked,
meditating through slow motion.
But his smile was so nice. His desire to shelter me apparently so genuine.
"The sky is black."
Chinese is a language of unfathomable depth and character contained in seeming simplicity.
Its strange the way they work.
No desire for the subtle interplay and buildup.
Stand off, put up barriers. Brush your teeth, wash your face, and climb into bed to sleep.
But then the first touch.
I can see a few stars. But only where they just break the mountaintops.
The heart of the sky still filled with the clinging afterstorm grey.
The ground would have been wet tonight.
I would have worried for Sleipnir.
My hands are my favorite tools. I think i learn best through them.
They all use too much tongue. Too much force and eagerness.
I am a fan of the subtle teasing dance. Waltzing slowly.
Advancing forward to feint back. Build to a crescendo through the circle steps not the straight line. Less fun when you just start smashing the gong from the start. Steps, a time and place for each.
With her, every moment not acting, not working i worried that maybe i could be doing more.
Never thinking that i didn't have to.
after it had broken.
After we had each been ruined and put ourselves back together.
I went to see her.
And sitting, sitting at her feet
me playing my games, and her hers
i felt the calm without anxiety.
And i think she did to.
And so we lay side by side. I came to tell her that i finally understood.
That at last i was able to love her as a person and not as a girlfriend.
Leave some markers for the kiddies, ink suits me better. Maybe keep the blue one, always a soft spot for blue.
The knight of cups riding forth.
But lo, all of the water being spilled.
When your heart is made of fire
love feels like it should need constant motion.
Still fire is dead, a frozen flame.
I needed to be building you up or breaking you down. It is the only way my nature knows how to love.
Glass strewn on the road.
Pick up a shard
So beautiful, she was so beautiful.
Always the older women here.
Vagueness a necessary skill of the trade.
Age means nothing i have too many, why don't you tell me how old i am now.
So eager.
And its over.
No sense of satisfaction.
Those big beautiful eyes.
Chinese girls present a problem.
Hard to satisfy.
Squeamish and uncomfortable with you trying to please them.
A culture telling them sex is for the man.
Don't try to give them head, it just makes them nervous. Fuck and you are riddled with anxiety as "how painful" is muttered over and over again. Guilt, sometimes you even have to help assuage the guilt they feel at fucking a stranger. So few able to view sex as beautiful.
I put the shard of glass into my pocket. Maybe poke a hole in the condoms.
Knock up a beautiful chinese girl. Get my feet stuck down so i can come to love them. Give arranged marriage a shot. Maybe teach them to love life and pleasure a bit more. Share some intimacy, good for the both of us.
With moving feet one can only do so little good for another. But then again as Nietzsche said "To love only one is a barbarity exercised at the expense of all others."
Clouds are made all the more beautiful by the way they play with shadows.
If you mix all the good things together does it make it better or is it dabbling in Tabasco sauce and ice cream?
Tomorrow, honey and green tea. Sustenance enough.
Yin flows into yang
Goats standing by a river
the children come to sit
with their mother
Light becomes dark
Where the tree bends low.
Carving at the edge
supported by quiet flow from behind.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Graffiti and noodles

"lei, bu lei." Hai hao. Press on. names thrown here and there. His hand sways along pointing to the mark he chooses to leave. Darting around, leaving black prints in their wake. Throw ups here, claim some turf for the crew. Bags being packed in anticipation. Black books passed around for sketches to be shared. We sit and wait, for what i don't know. Waiting for the magic hour to hit. Wait until you have to leave, then you know the rest of the world has begun to close. Closed eyelids give a much better surface to write on. Pushing on, a goal or destination, not one i know or think they do either. But certainly somewhere we must reach
If you paint on temple walls Buddha will strike you down. "No Buddha loves his hip-hop." Drop a beat to Amitovah. Hit the clappers, bang the drums to build up your fat rhythms. Shaolin is the sickest b-boy crew in China.
Crossing bridges where everyone loves each other forever. Everyone except the few.

"You are the last person i want
to see in the world.
I hate you so much, but thank you.
Why you always be in my way."

How many of us smoke. Better get at least two packs, make that three. Sit under their florescent lights, black books out. The old uigher just stands by my side looking down. Others stop to stare in too, an offense unacceptable in the lost home. The culture is just not the same here. Stand in the street. Spray your mind out on the wall, people might just stop to look for a moment. If you want to stay around don't touch the trains. You may end up getting a phone call in Shanghai. At least its not Japan, no one will kill themselves for you, but you won't be around.
Another pack finished. Watching it burn down slowly, hanging on the rim. Enough ash in this soup already i am sure. I watch it burn and we catch eyes for a moment. Understanding need not be spoken.
He can translate for me even though he says the same words i do.
Cookie takes forever, but he showed me where the yellow tower was so i could nod my head 3 times. Standing on a bridge, no, not like the Mississippi (always sing the song in my head to spell that out, in honor of childhood duels, have to keep the skills sharp). Interesting in its own right. The cigarette butt flies through the bars.
Staying with these cats for the last few days. i can throw up a diamond for the smuggler with a heart of gold. Trying to help the women sneak out their unborn babies now. Good luck finding your wife this week.Where do the people come from, where am i going to have met them?
Give those beautiful women a little taste. Don't paint the trains, well maybe this one.
Sure the kids like you, but even here in our hood they give us no respect.
They give no respect because they don't understand.
Their gov may try to find them, but ours will find us. you just get a phone call in Shanghai and the party is over. We want to paint, it's just we don't have to hide and if we did it wouldn't work. Paint, paint to the line just don't cross it or you're gone. Just cans, sitting, waiting to be picked up again and a piece that never got finished.
Cans thrown into bushes, nervous looks back. Feet slapping the pavement, cross the street, turn down the alley. I cannot help but smile. Feet pounding, heart smiling. Gucci apparently too precious even for the chinese.
Tears quietly welling in her eyes as we pull away. I no longer even feel a pull when the goodbyes must be said. The train whistle blows. Always a new chapter coming always a new one added i would happily return to. Is it the state of the world or the state of me?
The cans rattle. I don't want noodles, just some tea. I want to sit and think. Remember i am working so i just need to watch now.
Waiting for the sun to rise, waiting for the rest of the world to slowly wake. Tracing back my steps now. As we traced last night. Then to return like proud mothers taking the photos of our childrens first glimpse of light, the first time the rest of the world got a chance to see them. And back.
You may be one in a hundred, a thousand, a million but i am here to let others knw.

Graffiti and noodles