“If there is sin against life, it consists… in hoping for another life and in eluding the implacable grandeur of this life.” – Albert Camus
“Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life – well, valuable, but small – and sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven’t been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn’t it be the other way around? I don’t really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out into the void. So good night, dear void.”
There the city lay
murmuring its lullaby
into the night
Starlight marries the darkness.
Sing bird, Sing!
Let the cathedral bells
hear your soft caress
Gleam bird, Gleam!
Serenading the ground
with a hymn, you bless
The city sleeps
lurred by nights
The city sleeps
as evenings lure
awakens the dawn.
“You rode your bike to the old diner. You didn’t mean for there to be,but a full moon
was out to light your way.
Maybe your eyes knew, and that’s why they noticed for the first time how alive the
earth looked as you moved over it. Beside it. Through it.
Maybe your lungs knew, and that’s why they breathed in a little deeper
the fall air filled with city lights.
Maybe your mouth knew. And that’s why it spread itself into that rare smile
for the world to see one last time.
You calmly got off your bike and chained it to the rack. I wasn’t even there
but every time I close my eyes, I can see you drown.”
(photo courtesy: Salveo)
The other day I was looking through some of my old art journals and as I was scanning their pages, a torn piece of paper slipped out of the journal and fell onto my lap. The writing was barely discernible, but I found this little poem etched in ink. For awhile I couldn’t remember the inspiration for writing the poem, but I finally remembered: I had been sitting in a crowded coffee shop reading. Out of the blew, in my mind, I had a very vivid and intense picture of a baby still in its mothers womb. I knew the parents had decided to abort the baby, and the baby only had a few more hours to live. This mental picture had a strong effect on me so in the middle of the crowded room, I quickly grabbed a piece of paper and etched down these words. The poem is abrupt and disconnect, but I’m going to keep it in its original form and not mess with it.
Sinking into a blank oblivion
amidst the hum of sub conscience.
Purposeful drifting, trying to forget
the pain of knowing
Knowing you’ve forgotten
Knowing you’ve left me to fight on my own
Knowing you aren’t beside me
Knowing your purposeful neglect.
Consigning yourself to oblivion,
you watch me fall
drop by drop
from memory, forever
omitted from your wide shut eye.
Build me a home in this blackness,
where forgetting comes easy
where time runs in circles,
this darkness where I belong.
Leave me in the numbness of thought
Let me forget the