Thursday, October 11, 2001

My camera waits to take photographs
while my mind tends to forget.
The skin on my hands are dry from
all the inconsistency that come
from indecision,
and you know she's upset about something.

Your wishes vanish quicker
than the drop of water on the petal
sitting outside your window;
every morning your past sits in
two perforated boxes put perfectly
aside in a closet.

For all the wants and needs in the world,
for everything that means so much to you,
the preparation is all about looking
at a birthday card laying on your
nightstand...
Where the signature underneath the glossed paper
are from ghosts that speak quietly.

A package of painting paper,
a bag of brushes,
painted vividly in my mind that tomorrow
is something different,
but the night houses all the fears.
A growling beast that follows in the dark;
a howling creature breathing on my neck.

The sleep is more sound,
the mornings easier to inhale
but you find that your mind is
that beast;
you make your accords, you
see two bottle caps on the floor--
--one opened by a hand, the other metal.

As the day progresses,
everything seems to feel the calm
and reassurance that the afternoon
will not lead into a cold night,
until you find a strand of her hair on
your pillow,
and you cannot lay your head down.

Setbacks and follies are the theme
from the moment you rise from sleep
till you decend to sleep,
and all that you have done, tried and
reflected are what makes the dreams
worth it all.
je vous aime toujours et n'oublierai jamais.

Sorry for the long epic and blatant use of Babel Fish here. Something I had to get out of me. Life's about figuring it all out and when you realize that it's too late, you save it for the next round. Peace.
posted by HZA | 11:16 AM | email | archive