Drowsy Domain

 When I lay down to sleep at night, my mind races with thoughts of the day,

With funny things my friends had said or the things we did together.

My problems swirl around, begging me to find their solution

And I review events that I had likely reviewed a thousand times already

But I continue on reviewing, like a damned man who hungers but never eats.

I search my soul for purpose, and plan out dreams of the future

And who knows how much time I have spent before sleeping,

Thinking of the type of girl who would love me for who I am,

And wondering if I could ever do the same for her.

As I lay there in my bed, this tempest grows more intense, and I feel I can’t getaway

But then an image of an enormous city appears in my head, and I grab hold,

Hoping that it could anchor me in the storm.

The winds of thought tear at its walls, and rip up the streets,

But I hold on tight to every piece and try to keep it whole,

Until the wind stops altogether, and I stand in this perfect city, by myself, and alone.

I explore the streets and look in the windows,

Knowing I’m still awake and that the storm couldn’t be far off.

Clean glass, steel, and concrete are all I see in this place but the simplicity is its beauty.

I look ahead, and at the end of the street, the city ends,

But rather than the storm, I see a rich field, with grass as high as my waist,

And trees that grow thick with leaves and have large knots in their trunks.

I see the place where I had walked before.

It’s a dirt path that winds through the grass, leading through the trees, to a wide hill.

I made that path, I remember now, and I follow it up the hill.

A simple wooden chair sits on its peak and I remember why I came. 

I take my seat, finally at peace, and close my eyes to rest.

This was my world; I was its king, and the only person in it.

my condolences

 
 

I want cough syrup. 2 bottles full! I want lots of empathetic looks. Give me long hugs! I want a band aid big enough to wrap around this throbbing useless organ. Ugh no not a love poem! The Darkness said, “Love is just a feeling”. I sang along and fast forwarded to the guitar riff that made your body feel like it just got a hyper electric shock. I didn’t really get the whole love feeling thing. I didn’t care. I still don’t. You see, every song on the radio has something to do with this obsessive “if I can’t have you I can’t take another breath” infatuation. Does it have something to do with Edward and that unvampire girl? All I know is if I’m not in love I’m a societal outcast. This ain’t cynicism. I watched three multi-teired white frosting cakes pose for photos in the park across the street last week. I caught sight of 99 bride and groom duos with obscure frozen expressions in the last month. I’ve tuned into, please never make me count, discussions of ring descriptions, complementary colors, and lingerie, this year to last me my whole life through. Really selective mutism sounds luxiourous. I’m not completely one sided, engagement photos get me. It’s those angles, colors, and artistic expression-freakin’ heart melting. I rather write myself into a love story then live one, because love has gone and lost it’s appeal. It’s the cheatin, wife beatin, take you for a ride and leave you there, love blues. The take me out to dinner cuz I love free meals, kiss me now but I won’t mean it later, luv ya babe 4 eva, romantic fairytale. OH, so sweet. How touching. Sigh. How perfect. I can’t wait for my turn for heaven on earth.

 

A case of sheer abandonment

The idea has existed now, for sometime, and I can’t help but mourn parting with it. Let me tell you the circumstances.

Attached to the idea are detailed stories of grand adventure, now never to be played out.

The idea has existed quietly in the back of my mind, company in the loneliest of hours,

hope when I needed to concoct some- I can’t help but wince at the thought of giving away

it’s comfort.                       The idea was chewed, dissected, examined from all angles then sat

upon the shelf, taking upon the form of a discarded book

( with the Brief thought: I may read that one again).

I totally forgot the idea, pranced around and whimsically explored with out,

spent days hating the idea and detested pondering the thought of it,

then all at once was entranced- romanced on a dance floor- I fluttered my eyelashes at the idea, toying.

Rolled the idea around on the curve of my tongue, smirked, and was smitten once again.

Be sympathetic Reader, the idea held charm, as ideas went I viewed this one with many additional bells and whistles- features to satisfy my deepest heart’s, never to be uttered, fantasy.

One day I laid, twisted in sheets, the idea suspended in the morning light. I objectively viewed the idea,

glanced at it, threw my feet over the bed-got up to get a better look, and paced its axis.

Looking up from where I stood the idea was obviously the lousiest idea I’ve ever had.

I then hastily lugged it over my shoulder, passed the book case and made a beeline for the rubbage can. Where it had always belonged- I passionately thought.                                      Yet the idea sat and didn’t dissolve quickly.                    It wormed its way back in, swam up the stream of my conscious and floated down, and in due time the idea again became a familiar & splendid playmate.

Yet suddenly without forethought reason I stopped,

stared at it squarely in the eyes,          blinked twice,                          opened my eyes wider then I ever had before, and realized my running                                                                              imagination.

The idea was neither friend nor foe, the idea was to never truly be.

Reader, all I could do now, no longer ignorant, is decide to abandon it. Haul it to the curb. Get the dirty business done.

Hands outspread palms revealed to the sky, I watch the idea shrink, and it becomes a mere figment, a shadow, a sliver, and then its gone-evaporated as if it never was. And I’m left sitting here, lonely perplexed disheveled without-awake-wishing i could play with it just once more. Wondering if I was right to consider letting it go.

But knowing it was about time.

Upon a Cruise ship: Royal Caribbean

It is truly amazing to go into a new experience with the attitude that every action taken is going to be a learning opportunity.

On this boat tonight I look for a new experience by myself in “The Vortex” – a dance club on the 12th deck. I’ve chosen a remote seat near the middle of the room, choosing to be ignorant to my singleness. Meanwhile, other couches in the room host drinking couples who now have vacation-tainted personalities motivating a friendly attitude.

For me tonight it’s just water. I don’t drink. Everyone is coupled up, over 30 (or even 50) and dancing playfully round the room. Coming my way right now, actually… (at this moment I was franticly coaxed to stop writing and get up and follow the dance train as it passed me by. Which I did. I followed the dancing train to the dance floor, where I stayed dancing for a few songs).

I learned that having fun is sometimes just as easy as acting the part, and letting anything happen that comes your way.

Later I walked around the deck by myself and I couldn’t help but to take in the scenery: There was a reflection of moonlight on the dark blue water. The movement of the boat crushing any still waters in its path and adding waves behind it. During the day the water is a light reflective blue, but now turned dark from the night and frosted by moonlight.

Tomorrow we go to Haiti… or at least some island that only cruise tourists will be on.

-April 2009