the 'Fist' & the 'Pacifist'

Friday, November 05, 2004

Of You and I

Of holding hands on an evening of falling rain,
Forgotten passages on a gin soaked afternoon,

Of falling hair and laughter on a bar stool,
Solitude sunk in plush leather,

Of talk and hours vanishing like smoke,
An empty inbox at an airport lounge,

Of a planned vacation, waiting sheets in little hotels,
Shards in the breeze now and tickets before,

Of reaching out for the clasp of eternity,
Staying on to pick up the pieces for my scrapbook.

Of a life passing you by, going somewhere
A moment of indecision scared it may never end.

Of standing in the midst of Beethoven’s circle of joy,
Screaming into the lonely night, in a lonely city, in a lonely life,

Of waiting for your footsteps on the early morning floor,
And the knowledge that you never meant to come,

Of the warmth and chill of a room in winter,
The early winter wind freezing your soul.

Of attributing your happiness to happy serendipity,
Realizing yours was a walk on role in a grand design.

Of thinking our lives were scenes from our movie,
Knowing now it was someone else’s dream.

Of thinking about us together,
Were actually just you and I.

lament for icarus

words of wisdom

If you're going to try, go all the way. Otherwise don't even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives, jobs. And maybe your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery, isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance.