Posts Tagged ‘wonder’

Today’s date

attached to four names

I don’t recognize.

And I wonder

about names

attached to headstones,

about futures

attached to children

along with memories.

And these are people

who will only be remembered if

they fall under these circumstances-

if they had children,

if they are a character in someone’s story.

We remember historical figures

and celebrities

because of their national renown,

but who remembers

the little people

with their names printed

small

in newsprint?

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Stare at the page

wondering what cosmic rules will

leap out of black numerals

and formulate sense-

then- ponder

how nature is frozen into fractals

and patterns,

and that you may not have

the solution,

but you uncover wonder just

by trying to find it.

Life, friends, is boring

only to those who make it so.

To complain of a friend’s plights

and gripes, and then complain

of being bored

marks a hypocrite

who has lost his inner child

who would see the great sea flash

and the blue sky and its cottons yearn

and dream

not of fantasy worlds,

but of the wonders here,

in his life.

-In response to Dream Song 14 by John Berryman

If I were to peel back your skin,

what would I find underneath?

Is there some sort of baby there–

howling, malnourished,

thin as cardboard with veins

bulging underneath its tomato-skin like fat worms?

Is there nothing but an idol

whose limbs operated so humanly,

but only after the pale curtain was pulled away

was the inhumanity of its brass knob joints,

rigid gold stature,

and manufactured glass eyes revealed?

Or is it human?

Is there a heart?

Small, churning

and humming like an engine;

taking shape not as a crimson fist,

but as a flickering light,

fluttering like the sun,

nestled under your skin

in the cavity of your chest.

Why am I so willing to pass my heart around

on a platter like hors d’oeuvres?

Falling in love is not

something that simply happens;

there is always admiration before desire,

smoke before flame.

Perhaps it is not that I’m willing,

but rather, that I don’t know,

for I would rather live in this haze

for fear of being burned.

Imagine, if you will, there is nothing else but you and this.

And, though you are aware of yourself: your body, your legs,

your arms, your hand, your eyes–

you focus on only this in front of you.

This is not simply one moment of fixation,

this is many moments forming multiple opinions of this,

and no one has said anything else about this,

it is entirely new to you.

You command this experience.

How would your thoughts and emotions evoked

change

if you took noise and arguments and opinions and feelings

from the outside world

into account?

Humped backs

of giants dead

or sleeping.

You present yourselves

as places of song,

absent of stillness;

fuel my desire for freedom

to rush wildly over

and feel like a bird

soaring under seethes

of golden, snapping grasses

which decorate you.

The city behind,

stuck as

a stopped clock,

is eclipsed in grandeur.

Small or large

you curve, wave-like,

ever onward,

illuminating promise of future,

and quickening my heart

with your majesty.

In this sight,

you are The Kingdom.