As she considers the space
she passes the static, the absence
of concrete and abstract.
Today, new eyes, a
shallow stream, further on
and the desire to name them –
on the tongue
shaped by neuron
and oxygen –
and impossible perception.
Sometimes the world we live in is not to kind. Like most of our souls it’s become tainted and unclean and maybe not as pretty as it once was. You have to look hard to find the good in it and I’m not afraid to admit that it scares me. It scares me because although man is capable of creating extraordinary beauty, he is also capable of destroying the same beauty he worked so hard to create. When was the last time you thought about the Sandy Hook school shooting? What must it be like for those parents who have to get up everyday without their kids? We can’t for one second walk in any of their shoes and know what depths of despair some of those parents feel all the time. I have kids and I don’t want to go there for one second. That story has been reduced to a scroll on the bottom of our TV screens. We are quite the forgetful society. Our politicians count on that fact. So we get up everyday and put our masks on. It’s safe I know. We try not to let people get to close. We build walls around our hearts as to not let anyone in. I guess that’s living. I actually go and sit in the airport and people watch. It’s one of the only places I’ve found where our guard and masks are laid down. Where pure raw emotion is King! It’s something to behold to see a couple that’s not seen each other in a while make that eye contact coming down the terminal. The smiles as they light up at the glimpse of the other. The tears that come streaming down the faces from such emotion. The hugging, touching and kissing. It’s electrifying. And for just a brief moment, for one split second. There is beauty. It doesn’t last long but it feels amazing. Everything is just so temporary.
As I stand in the rain and wind, I feel it’s cold chill me to the bone. Me with my half thoughts and unfinished sentences looking for some answer, some solace in the puddles. Hoping the rain will cleanse me. Make me feel not dirty and unclean and tainted. I’m not looking for happiness at this point. I’m just looking for normalcy again. Just looking to wake and not have thoughts of you flood my head. I miss smiling. You once said that you get used to the suffering. You learn to embrace it and it becomes part of you. Part of your personality. You build huge walls as to not let anyone in. But for good reason. Those of you that have really given yourself to someone know that dark feeling of almost being grief stricken when it inevitably ends. We are so careless with each others feelings sometimes. Another humanistic trait I’m not proud of. It’s as if our time together was a beautiful dream. Like it never even happened. But my heart knows differently…
It’s Halloween and I have a mask on. It’s not a mask I purchased or made, it’s a mask I put on everyday. It’s a mask made of well me. It’s a mask of my fears, hopes, dreams, thoughts. It’s a mask that washes away an unclean and not so pure feeling. It’s a mask for the ugly stuff I harbor deep inside my soul. I wear this mask mostly out of fear. Fear of letting people in, fear of letting people go, fear of the truth when confronted with it. They say the truth will set you free. Well if this is freedom I may choose to keep my mask on and guard what little I have left of my weary and masked heart. I often wonder how many of us wear these masks and what they hide. Those of you that connect with people on a bit of a deeper level I hope know what I mean. We all carry on conversations everyday with lots of folks. The same mundane conversation over and over. How’s the family? Did you see this last night or do that. The same standard stuff. But every now and again you get a glimpse of what others look like without their masks and if you care for that person it doesn’t matter what they look like without it. In fact it is clean and pure and kind. It’s beautiful. Oh it doesn’t happen to often in fact most of us may never get to experience what that feels like. Just like most of us never experience true love. And even when you do get that glimpse of it, it’s like it doesn’t stay for long and most of the time ends in disappointment and sometimes much worse. All the more reason for that mask. I think I’ve rambled on long enough. I have to get back to polishing my mask…
For some time I’ve been following an emerging subculture on Twitter. I have referred to it occasionally as “stoner Twitter poets”, but as it attains consciousness of itself as a phenomenon, it has given itself a name: weird twitter.
Weird twitter posts tend to be of the following forms:
- A brutally sincere statement of personal perspective, often with philosophical and spiritual sentiment, but just as often profane
- nounal phrases referring to surreal compositions of objects
- “sext:” followed by a declaration of attraction that is often only peripherally erotic (to humorous effect)
- norm-building posts on appropriate twitter behavior, the state of weird twitter, and discussion of ‘favstars’
Interestingly, while Facebook “Likes” are generally derided, the “weird twitter” community holds the “favstar” in high esteem, as are pyramids and bots (especially ‘spam’ bots, like Horse Ebooks, which are used as source material for aleatoric poetry). And, though romance and attraction are…
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