Saturday, August 15, 2009

The Point Of It, What I Want

I feel reading these again after this length of time that Feb 5 was an intense day. I caught a particular wave. The first poem was looking at it as it loomed well above my comfort zone. The second poem was looking at the swell of it passing beyond my reach.

"Lord look at me here, rooted like a tree here. I got the sit down, can't cry, Oh Lord, I'm gonna die blues."

Because there is nothing to do at that point but sing or dance or write or make love.

The Point Of It

The passage could have
been easier in smaller
turns, not so abrupt,
nor so risky terms,
but you had me on purpose,
moving me right out
beyond the loss point
no matter the price I paid,
it had come to that.

February 5, 2009 2:29 PM

*********************************

Yes it has come to that. It has come to that point where there is nothing left to do but make peace with my life just as it is. I have tried to steer and every time I steer into a train wreck of some kind. So I have let go and let the mystery have me. The oddest things happen but I survive and as my self inflicted wounds heal, I even thrive. So don't be telling me I have to take charge of my own life. That is fucking insane for the likes of me. I just walk this path. Road building is not for me. It never has been. All my music, all of this, all the best of me is syncopation, accompaniment, response, harmony. I know this is true.

What I Want

On this point at least
we agree. I've never been
nor wanted to be
perfect, a hard job.
But oh my God, I want shine.
I want butterfly's
wings, iridescence,
the high flying riff in A
on that guy's guitar,
the scent your body
has after we have showered,
the words I might write,
as I have before,
in the afternoon today.
I want more of that.

February 5, 2009 3:15 PM

8 comments:

  1. For me, the trip called life is so much more interesting when I am right where I need to be and do what is in synch with the universe, then it all flows, I don't have to be in control, and I don't have stress.

    Regarding the second poem, who wouldn't want more of that. All of that. Sometimes you sound like my hubby. You must be a pretty good guy.

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  2. TB, I am very happy you think your hubby is a pretty good guy. If I sound like him, it is only because so many of us see things alike. If you put us side by side you probably could tell us apart :)

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  3. Oh, wow, yes Christopher!
    I love that second poem, it is so 'oh yeah!'.....love the first too actually.
    Taking control of ones life, or trying to, is a big fat joke is it not!

    Rolling with the punches.....

    xxxxx

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  4. Yo, sister, friend, maybe even lover in some world, Michelle, you touch me.

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  5. {Hey}
    What you’re drinkin’
    Rum or whiskey
    Now don’t you have a…
    Double with me
    I’m sorry I’m a little late
    I got your message by the away
    I’m calling in sick today
    So let’s go out for old time sake

    I’ll never forget you
    They say we’d never make it
    My sweet joy always remember me

    We were mischievous
    And you’re always wearing black
    I was so serious
    You know my boyfriend’s mummy’s
    really hard to entertain
    I’m sorry I’m a little late
    You know the stripes of a tiger
    are hard to change
    And notice world feels like an empty stage
    I wouldn’t change a thing
    So I’m glad your back again

    I’ll never forget you
    They say we’d never make it
    My sweet joy always remember me
    I’ll never forget you
    At times we couldn’t take it all
    My joy always remember me

    We just got swallowed up
    You know I didn’t forget you
    We just got swallowed up

    We just got swallowed up
    But you know I didn’t forget you
    We just got swallowed up
    By the whole damned world

    What you’re thinking
    Did you miss me
    I’ve borrowed your silver boots
    Now if you just let me
    give them back to you

    I’ll never forget you
    They say we’d never make it
    My sweet joy always remember me
    I’ll never forget you
    Although at times we couldn’t change it all
    My joy always remember me

    Don’t you know that you’re my joy
    Always remember me

    Never Forget You
    Noisettes

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  6. GD, I have a feeling you are a real friend when you get the chance.

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  7. I want that too, only I want to be able to say it as well as you, Christopher. Beautiful.

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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.


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