Thursday, March 17, 2011

emotional sandbags

I always wanted to be a dolphin so I could bullet myself into the Pacific, into places I know that wait.  When I was lost enough, I remember saying goodbye- that I was going to go move to the ocean.  And when I got to the ocean, years passed, then I wanted to move into the ocean.  It seemed the only logical place.  Nat and Frank took me by the arms and led me away.  They seemed to know it wasn’t my time.  Drops of suspension, drops of surprise, of emotion and longing for the two children and the life I blessed that first day of May, that day we swung around the Maypole and I wore the borrowed wooden heeled shoes.  Those shoes.  They had white satin ribbons that gathered together and come to think of it they mirrored the ribbons of the pole and maybe the ribbons of my imagination and where I thought this marriage was going.  I play that day sometimes.  It was probably the most beautiful day of my life, if I was forced to state one.  He wore a kilt given to him by his uncle, I wore a 1960s dress from the Third Hand Store in San Francisco.  No one helped me choose.  I was alone in my preparation as I was alone in my separation and I’m pretty good at that.  Doesn’t a dolphin propel alone?  But on the peripherals there are schools of souls and it is among them and with them that I gain my force- even from rows over and in slipstreams past, we are all living the same life.  I am alone as you are alone, and I am crowded as you are crowded in this world of flesh and salt and oxygen.  I’m only writing to help you dream.  And you?  I don’t know you.  Ambiguous you.  But you?  I am you.  Ambiguous me.


Looking for myself after I left myself
In the facts of time when I no longer believed in time
There was a draft in my back
Sitting in my aloneness
In my age in my youth in my oldness
Whistling my sometimes wishes
When I still don’t matter when I still so much matter
To everyone and no one
And what I’m doing here

Usually when I swim so far from shore I get scared
And I remember the time I almost drowned
And how it didn’t matter because I was too young to know
And usually when I have no fear
It’s because I don’t care
And I don’t want to care

Snow surprises in the morning, and I don’t know why
It’s natural.  It’s normal.
But it surprises my eyes for what never lasts
It reminds me of the impatience
Of first my blood
How I wanted it to come so much I ate everything red
And now I could care less
As things come whether expected or wanted or not

Like a child

And on the 2nd floor on the 2nd month I wonder
If this year and this place is mine
Catching myself after I lost myself 



E. Kelly's Spiritual Journey on Death isn't all that much:

"Death is no more than an act change in a play.  The story is continual.  There is no way to stop it.  It is in God.  A Chinese proverb speaks of three difficult challenges.  One is to keep a secret.  Another is to bear injustice silently.  The third is to know that someday we will die... 

The Earth is a difficult place to be.  But it is a privilege to be here.  The danger is that we get too attached to the physical world.  This is like getting attached to the third grade classroom rather than moving on.  We should all go forward."


1 comment:

  1. Just watched the end of this film and thought of your writing...so I thought I'd post it to add to the mix:
    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jfwH0kgIigs

    ReplyDelete

Comments and feedback are always welcome.