I live for these moments
when souls manifest in the form of music
and goosebumps are the result
I live for when life is so happy
That it starts moving in slow motion
I live for
The rush of a too busy mind
Your smile after a lullaby
A silent standing ovation
It’s all alive.
It’s all alive.
It’s
all
ALIVE.
The day you tell me
That I struck something within you
Will be the day I know I’ve lived
When millions of heartbeats
Are synchronized to one song
Is the day I know I’ve lived
When I feel like Infinity
Has finally caught up with me
Is the day I know I’ve lived
Don’t forget this, okay?
This feeling of knowing more,
because it’s fading quickly
and I don’t want to forget.
I don’t want to forget.
I don’t ever want to forget.
Live for me, and life will live for you
It’s alive
We’re alive
We are all ALIVE.
This is the darkness that comes after midnight, when zombies drink their daily coffees and crickets perform their operas well within the walls of overgrown summer grasses. When closing your eyes for more than 10 minutes is normal and when all my demon’s faces look the same.
I used to carry a red wooden heart that hung in place of my real one to remind me why I need a flashlight. To remind me that even though my eyes are disabled, I can still hear a faint steady beat off in the who knows where.
I swear I had it when I had no sense of time, when days ran into each other like confused but happy painters. Maybe I lost it when I realized that time controls me, when I realized that twenty-four hours is a sick lie, when I realized that twenty-four hours are actually twenty-four seconds.
Why the hell did no one warn me about this?
No one ever told me there was something darker than midnight. They never told me about how heavy you would feel when you wore a fake wooden heart. Why didn’t I know? How didn’t I know?
I guess that’s what darkness does. It hides the scary things, but just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there.
I need a flashlight so I know what I’m walking into. I need it in order to find my drum. I need it. I need it. I need a flashlight to find life source. I need my heart.
They say I’m young, but my thoughts are like retired concert performers, cracking their knuckles with arthritis caused by overuse. Surrounded by empty velvet chairs, waiting for someone to pay attention to them.
I am a camera. One of the plastic ones my grandma used back in the 60’s. Tangible yet living forever within the walls of brightly colored plastic. My thoughts are hidden, wound up inside, waiting for someone to show me the light.
Carnegie Hall, don’t expect me anytime soon. As much as I would like to meet you, I have unfinished business to attend to. There are stories to be told, pictures to be drawn, adventures to be discovered.
I think it is a work of fate when I come across something that seems like it was made just for me at just this time. Does that ever happen to you?
I just came across this poem and I think it is beautiful. It is written by the ingenious e.e. Cummings, one of my favorite poets because of his unique formats and vocal writing. His poems seem to just speak to you and only you. That is especially true for this little masterpiece:
You Are Tired (I Think) by e.e. Cummings
You are tired, (I think) Of the always puzzle of living and doing; And so am I.
Come with me, then, And we’ll leave it far and far away— (Only you and I, understand!)
You have played, (I think) And broke the toys you were fondest of, And are a little tired now; Tired of things that break, and— Just tired. So am I.
But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight, And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart— Open to me! For I will show you the places Nobody knows, And, if you like, The perfect places of Sleep.
Ah, come with me! I’ll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon, That floats forever and a day; I’ll sing you the jacinth song Of the probable stars; I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream, Until I find the Only Flower, Which shall keep (I think) your little heart While the moon comes out of the sea.
The soundtrack of your life
The rhythm that keeps you breathing
Your heart beat.
We all have one.
It’s one of the things that make us all the same.
But what do you do when the beats of your drum
are torn between the songs of thousands
and the song of your soul?
Put your hand in mine.
A grandma's hand in mine (actually in my brother's).
There are 6.9 billion people on this earth.
6.9 billion pairs of eyes
6.9 billion heartbeats
and an infinity of decisions.
Just hopped on a bandwagon?
Question it.
Just created a hip beat?
Question it.
Ran ahead without stopping?
Question it.
Question everything because the world is a sea of heart beats
tugging and pulling at you telling you to join in
and create either catchy verses or syncopated harmonies.
Currents will try to carry you off
but don’t let it merely pull you.
Decide to swim along with it
or swim the other way
using your gut as your propeller.
To tired of drumming
or swimming against the tide?
With your hand in mine I will lift you from this strife.
But latch your fingers only if you care,
for this song isn’t for me.
It’s for your heart, your prayer.
Birds of a feather flock together
in this world where we’re all different, together.
So put your hand in mine
because alone you can fly
but together we can soar.
Soar above the trees and through the clouds
never looking back and never looking down
making loop-de-loops and drawing fantasies in the clear blue skies
But if not, that’s okay
I’ll be waving to you from the shorelines
singing you songs of sweet victory
confident that your decision can move mountains
Just promise me this:
Swim as far as you can
with your life’s song beating loudly
spelling out confidence
saying, “Hey! I’m swimming for you.”
Make sure that once you arrive
you shake the hand of every smiling heart
telling them of your journey
telling them that you swam for the right reasons
that you swam because the rhythm told you to
Promise me that when all the other hearts fade
you’ll look across the ocean towards the horizon
knowing that I’m on that shoreline hundreds of miles away
still singing that lullaby.
And promise me you’ll come back
and bring me my heartbeat when you do.
Yes, words. Specifically, words that have the innate power to move mountains and crush glass hearts. Poetry.
On week numero dos in the journey of finding out what all this is about, I introduce to you my essential list of poetry!
I Went to the Woods… by Henry David Thoreau
“I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately, I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to put to rout all that was not life and not when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived.”
Okay. I cheated right off the bat. This isn’t really a poem; it’s an excerpt from Mr. Thoreau’s Walden. But, this poem/excerpt/blurb is written quite beautifully and has become one of my life’s mantras.
2. A Finger, Two Dots, Then Me by Derrick Brown
Derrick Brown is one of my favorite poets to date. He is one of the people that sucked me into the wonderful art of spoken word. Here are some other utterly amazing poems of his: Meatloaf and Church of the Broken Axe Handle.
3. B by Sarah Kay
Miss Kay’s words are so elegantly beautiful. They aren’t as power punchy as Derrick’s but they have that growing warmth that make you feel all… nice (for lack of a better word. But I mean nice in the most amazing way possible).
4. Mockingbird Remix by Rives
This poem is so cleverly worded. So much so that it makes me cry because of how genius and multi-emotionally faceted it is. Witty yet deep, funny yet profound; Rives puts into words exactly how much sound, music, and simplicity means to me.
5. Shake the Dust by Anis Mojgani
Come closer. Anis Mojgani has a way of pulling you in with his deeply relatable words. Some of y’all might have heard Shake the Dust; it is one of his most famous poems. It’s easy to see why: it speaks to the underdogs. It gives hope to those of us that feel like we can’t.
6. The Information Man by Buddy Wakefield
To me, this poem is all about discovery. Discovering where you’re going, discovering what you believe in, discovering yourself. What I love about this is that he doesn’t act like he has all the answers. Buddy’s a dude on a journey to finding where this all leads just like the rest of us, therefore making this poem the perfect anthem for this blog.
Okay then, I hope at least one of these poems spoke to you in some way or form. May you have an amazing existence.
i am whole
just like you
i have meaning
just like you
tear me apart
and analyze my organs
then will no longer be
these words are my brothers
sisters and mothers
they are the anchor on which I stand
without them i fall; weak, useless
then just like you
i will no longer be