reflections (by firstcomet)

I see your reflection, on the glass window of night
The flickering lights, twinkling in your eyes
Beyond these walls, the city is quietly napping
Just to arise, another pale day of fluffy flakes
I won't be able to hold on to your image;
eyelids are giving up, I'll catch you later
Beyond the borders of this shuttered town ...

It's Satin (by firstcomet)

And she said:
look at my bed sheet, it is satin,
and a pause, but it is not …
an invitation inside the bed!

And I looked at her bed sheet,
And it was now a satin, and it was strange,
since I had not seen a satin bed sheet before:
No gloss, no float, only fire that blazed and arose!

And I was thinking, limitations of knowing;
Just like a satin with dull reflections,
wavering, under the weight of urges:
nylon, polyester, and silk. Sinking!

And when I finally emerged
I found myself gazing
At your hazelnut eyes
What a wondrous feeling it was!

Though, anxious they looked
As if I caught a glimpse of them
While in a free fall
From the sky above

And it crossed my mind
That while falling
Can we fall for each other,
The certainty of our uncertaint lives?

I did not know.
It was your lips
Emancipated slave of thoughts
That broke the lull ...

I heard your voice
Over a cumulus cloud
About to reconvene with her old mates
To wash the city off my loneliness

Voices that boil your blood
And tightens your jaws
And chest, and fists
Pushing you to the other side …

The nowhere man’s land
The warm feeling propagating
Through my veins, up the ladder
Where the angles reside!

It’s no longer a fight;
likely a gradual transcendence
To where I heard your voice once,
Twice, and again on a Saturday

In the middle of a road,
In the middle of a song,
In the middle of an oblivious life
In the presence of your unbounded reality!

Toi Derricotte

i knew you before you had a mother, ...
i knew you when your connections belonged only to yourself, when you had no history to hook on to, ...
to night, turning, and the stars blinked like a cat. we swam in the last trickle of champagne before we knew breastmilk

"that saw through
her clothes, under
her skin, all the way down
to the transparent
genes confessing."

The Forgotten Dialect Of The Heart (Jack Gilbert)

How astonishing it is that language can almost mean, and frightening that it does not quite ... What we feel most has no name but amber, archers, cinnamon, horses, and birds.

nothing

I am nothing.
I will never be anything.
I cannot wish to be anything.
Apart from that, I have in me all the dreams of the world.

F. Pessoa

Faulkner

I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance. The poet's, the writer's, duty is to write about these things. It is his privilege to help man endure by lifting his heart, by reminding him of the courage and honor and hope and pride and compassion and pity and sacrifice which have been the glory of his past. The poet's voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail.

Bootstrapping

Bootstrapping, that’s what we do
It's about the time, time for adieu!

In Progress ...

I pick up a new papper,
review afew thoughts,
and a moment of insight:
aha! That's an interesting idea!

A war torn family,
traveling for days and nights,
landing in a abandoned village;
"Seems like this land is fertile," says the dad.

The son, excited,
with a surge of hope and a vision,
although vague, replies:
"shall we explore the land tomorrow morning?"

To which the old dad replies:
"causiously,
keeping in mind the landmines
that wars often leave behind!"

viva absurdita!

If I don’t engage in absurdism once in a while then I will fall into a philosophical quagmire of nihilism which sucks me into the vagueness of the moments. So, viva absurdita!

Proposal

A few thoughts I write

On the blank sheet of intentions

Like the marks on a sandy shore

Awaiting further contemplations

To create and to annihilate

Seasons gone in worldly abstentions

Seeking a wormhole, imagination

To the universe of elation!

WE'LL SEE AGAIN

We'll see the green leaves shake,
thirsty rivers laugh,
and cherries blossom... Read More

Tomorrow we'll see
Nights thinking the night
and thousands oppressed
claim for justice

Soon we'll see
unbreakable borders fall
and those innocent in the streets freed

Very soon we'll see
victims rise up,
embracing each other
while singing melodies of hope.

We'll part then,
with a blow of fresh liberty
With certainty and strength
You and me at the same pace

We'll see again,
Tomorrow we'll see
Soon we'll see
Very soon we'll see

We'll see...

Carry on!

To give up is to wither
But, a decision has been made
To the contrary
So, I have to carry,
Carry on, Carry on!

Ordinary

Certain stories do worth writing and others don’t. Those which do are called extraordinary. In our world, ordinary events are abundant and are considered mundane, however, every ordinary event is extra ordinary from someone’s prospective.
How does an ordinary summer day look?
The schoolyard of MIT, an arc-like seating structure designed by one the world’s most accomplished landscaping designer, surrounded by tall trees who solemnly observed generations of scientists walk passing them, carrying copies of the annals of mathematics and physics. Beyond those branches and leafs, where the clouds dance in a leafy frame of summerly sky is a white sphere that emits radio frequency waves, oblivious to the significance of days.
I take a moment to key in the code KVQF-VBDJ-067T at the drpepper.com to evaluate my chances of winning a 2010 Chevy Camaro. Now, that’s an extra ordinary event! Bear with me …. “Sorry but today is an ordinary day!”

Re: hello

What do I know of you?

An image, distant, far
A song on my Guitar …

Desires, Dissolve
Broken hearts, revive

No reason I seek
No justice, no critique

It’s the way of time;

To sculpture on ice,
To decide on a pair of dice!

Back fresh to the game,
Alas! it won’t be the same!

Far away!

Oh yeah, wanted to make a note of ones (life-event driven) personality and how remote one may be from the realities of human life and the society. One reason being that to ease our pain we often seek refuge in distance caves of abstraction! One day we open our eyes and we find out we are far way from home ... far away!

The Making of Sonnets

It was nice meeting You

I wonder if it was really (I mean really) nice meeting you! Or maybe it was just an ordinary event, in which case I would not be using the term 'nice'. But, maybe it was an ordinary event and I was using the term 'nice' as a matter of social etiquette!

becoming (by firstcomet)

A dream maker, a freelance heart
That’s what I negligently thought.

Your image, shadowed, dark;
To me, a gloomy season it did remark!

Looking back, you’re far
Far in history, out of sight ...

The chasm and the divide,

and the restlessness I can't hide!

Feeling guilty, of a hubris id
That I've become, out of being,

Being impressionable, being lost,

In a world immersed in lust!

My atomic clock (by firstcomet)

My kitchen and my living room are the same. And if you're not yet impressed, in how many kitchens have you seen an atomic clock hanging next to a water tap?! Kudos to the wonders of modern physics, especial thanks to the Dollar Store!

And what's up with the water tap-atomic clock rivalry? I noticed since yesterday dripping of the water has been synchronized! And yes, the atomic clock sometimes jolts along a single dimension of that spongy continuum; especially when I'm washing dishes!

Talking about sponges and living at the expense of others, somebody got to fix that dripping!

End of why

We are going back to basics again

Questions such as: who are you?

And what is your deal, is it all real?

You hit the bottom once a while

You bounce back, or just

Re-establish yourself along the bottom

It’s a never ending struggle

And struggles can get boring after a while

Just like …

When you swim against the currents

For just about too long!

Okay, tears tears, sigh sigh …

Enough is enough, end of why!