Angell #1

You are…

So the question is not if I can see you, for the possibility of peering through the flesh is impossible and you are far from invisible…

For all of the world to see… the people walk by… I stop, staring to appreciate…

My what you mean to me…

In mere seconds the amount of time given to me on this earth decreases, yet the value in spending time in connection gifts time belonging only to me as I stand before you removing layer upon layer with my eyes to see you all the while becoming naked myself…

Beyond sex and the intimacy of a kiss is a look at you with both intensity and vulnerability for to do so bears the contract of a willingness to be seen just the same…

You are the art of work, of experience, of pain, of happiness, of love, of life lived… you are a work of art.

Untitled #8

Time will pass…

Mere seconds into days that are to eventually become the years that go by into a destination unknown… during which I have become an admirer of you…

There is an art to you… that I have observed and chosen to keep inside of my heart.

For if memory serves me correctly… over time memories fade and should my mind decide to do so… should I only be able to keep one thought… it would be to remember to look into my heart and see you…

Not that my eyes will fail to see the woman before me… but in time… in your presence, I will have been granted the ability to see deeper into the source of what makes you so unique. The gift of being able to view the galaxy within you from the molded sand and clay used to form you…

Beautiful from the very moment of your creation… so there was no mistake that it is meant to be everlasting to the one that loves the sight of you.

Enumerate

Must time mock me?

Promising to heal my wounds by taking forever to pass…

A prisoner of my own thoughts, free to leave them behind if they were not of you and so treasured…

All of the little things done…

That were only you being yourself… I counted them one by one, placing them into my heart as if they were meant just for

me…

Unaware that each keepsake would forsake me and become the seconds counted down to the destruction of what love

we shared… In a space given that only had so much room, we broke laws of physics… we made love and experienced

its infinite possibilities…

Where does the time go?

How long will it take to remove each moment spent with you, without removing myself in the process?

I didn’t count on this…

Because I counted on you…

And if I were to list the ways in which I did, I would surely pass before I would be able to finish…

Because I loved you…

DaliVaro (Surreal)

Choose to remember or try desperately to forget…

In between those two acts of living… I sleep, breathing in silence and exhaling my days… what is this persistence of memory? Dream a dream and by the light of morning the images will melt away, no matter the effort we attempt to grasp them…

They never happened or existed…

Try as I might to place myself in that time… only results in fanfares of distorted and often dim images of fantastic landscapes in warm colors…… and I am missing… because I was never there in the first place… just old photographs underwater beneath a bridge that stands between there… and my waking moments…

The breath of being apart from there brushes against the skin…

It whispers that fantasy is not far from reality…

To be a part of the night, not apart from it… while others are sleeping… exist with no exits… letting the soul dance to the Claire De Lune, become drunk on the intoxicating exchange of speech and let spirits free you from inhibitions…

That you have painted the town red many of times before, that on this night the color to remember will have nothing to do with the town nor the sounds of the streets… but from connection…

Be there with her… look into her eyes… realize that it is all happening… forget what you know…  let your imagination run wild… and should she ever ask what you remember about the night we met…

Boldly whisper… I will always remember you… it was a dream I shall not easily forget.

 

 

 

 

 

Tears (Measures of a human life)

All grown up…

It would be unwise to assume that all there is to know has been shed upon me…

I rub my face and look into the mirror, to see my own eyes staring back at me asking the same question that I beckon an the answer from my reflection…

Where has all the time gone?

The silence in the room is only broken once my soul begins to shift, yet I remain still… waiting patiently for an answer…

I stare until the surface of what everyone sees disappears… there are only two sets of very familiar eyes staring back into one another… dark brown portals with staircases leading to the depths of the soul…

At the bottom of those staircases are corridors to traverse years of travel in an intimate moment of solitude… It’s been well over twelve-thousand days… My feet and ankles ache, but not more than my heart when I ask the question…

How far have I come? And do not have an answer…

I see the grooves in my soul from walking in circles…

and it breaks my heart…

Then crushed by waves my body floods, I’m forced out of my trance and brought back to being face to face with myself in the mirror…

A tear rolls down my face… the room is silent but the onslaught of living my dreams whispers that I am free to do so; so long as I look at where I wish to go by saying…

Your life is immeasurable by any man, even yourself…

Just be willing to go the distance…

and a tear rolled down my face…

and I smiled.

Musing 3/10/14

So very often when I want to write I get distracted by things at home. What bills I have to pay, television, netflix series I “need” to catch up on etc… Which forces me to leave home and try to find somewhere to get work done. Usually I can find a cafe or library that gives me the peace that I require to do what I need to do, but sometimes the journey to get to those places robs me of my time to write and before I know it I have only sat down for maybe an hour and written for about 30 minutes before I have to go back home. But within that journey to getting where I want to be in order to write, I fall into the most amazing views and I want to stop and write them all down, but I have to keep moving. I can only imagine if I were sitting on a train and writing about all that I see and at the same time being able to work without borders of time… That would be the most amazing thing and would be totally new. I love to travel but have not had much time to… This would be a great gift.