this thing
that runs through my heart
like a freight train
knocks me down
and lifts me up
at the same time
brings me joy
and reminds me
to stay open
be vulnerable
this thing
unnameable
random
vast
deep
it knows no bounds
reaches deep inside
blows me away
scatters the pieces
to the darkest edges
of the universe
and somehow
makes me whole
again
how do you do that?
(D James)
feeling like it’s been amateur hour for far too long
feeling like this is all going to end
looking like the futile quest of some tattooed old man
chasing dreams on the back of a motorcycle named Rocinante
then again…
what’s wrong with that
(D James)
asking why
leads backwards
as in “why did you do that?”
why asks for excuses
reasons
justification of the past
asking what
looks forward
as in “what will you do with that?”
what asks to create
is curious
and wants nothing more
than for something to be expressed
(D James)
assumptions made
plans set
though no one
told you
the day arrives
car all packed
you ride off
not knowing
where you’re going
the road stretches on
for years
stopping occasionally
in one town or the other
you sometimes wonder
how you will know
when you’ve arrived
(D. James)
long shadows
rush around
in straight lines
bundled against
the early morning sun
that gives off light
but little heat
another day
for the many lucky enough
to have made it through the night
yet who among us
thinks of the new day that way
before the first cup of coffee
if at all
(D. James)
a state of being
closed off to other
possible outcomes
a place of right
might
fight
where trouble lurks
and there is no soul
a safe place
where one finds
simplistic comfort
only in its opposite
is there any hope
or chance of stumbling
upon the world as it is
and not as we want it to be
(D James)
rummaging around the ruins
of a failed system
with nothing left to buy
and even less to sell
worrying about the weather
and the dow jones industrial index
as if it matters to our souls
and whether they can still be saved
these fallible indicators
are not merely implausible
but are “out of time”
when false gods
ruled through commerce
and promises of a better life
the buying and selling
of currencies currency
ultimately believing in a technology
that would deliver us from evil
we can only hope
there be nothing left
after the final fall
giving us a clean slate
like a blackboard
with the remnants of the old methods
and now dead ideas
floating
as chalk dust in sunlight
then
finally
we can begin
as sentient beings
neither to be bought or sold
but simply to be
in the world
(D James)
