Friday, June 27, 2014

Sin miedo (without fear)

I blame circumstance, but it all is my decision
I can choose to go and shine or I can stay and hide the reasons
For my hesitance, my imperfections holding me at bay
And the perfect life I strive for turns and looks the other way
The excuses are all mine and I'll gladly tell the lies
Hiding in these walls of fear I'll blame it all on time
Hours, minutes, seconds, are the victim of the day
And we waste them and we're hasty and we throw it all away
But what if I said yes? If the promises I kept
Had potential to undo me until there is nothing left?
Do I take the leap and go or do I stay with what I know?
It's only when the seed-pods fly that we begin to grow
What awaits me I can't say, but I smell the sound of rain
And as the clouds on my horizon gather, grow, and change
I too must do the same and perhaps this is the way
And I know that I'm not perfect, but I'll heed the call - I heard it -
Because I know and so do you, "we just regret what we don't do
So dare yourself and know it's true -- you're full of love and they'll love you"

The soul of the heart

Miracoco exhibit, Washington State Univeristy, 2014
Perhaps this might be the last time
I sit on the floor
The last time I balance
Against the walls of this breathing building
Alone -- as before -- by design
The eye in my mind reflects an iris
Green, blue, amber
And the memories of a thousand summers return
I have lost my sense of direction, lost so much
As my filters refine
To illuminate the relevant
Highlight the logical
And scoff at a half hour of return to the time
When time was flexible
And memories of tomorrow abounded
When colors were relative
And the smallest wings of the fly
Shone in iridescent brilliance
When the moon would come if invited
To share in my own night sky and
The grass and
Flowers and
Insect wings
I have lost so much
But I know exactly what to do with the little I have left
So this may be the last time
I feel the walls wrap around me
Can't they lull me to sleep
One more time?

Thursday, June 26, 2014

Liquid inspiration

I remember when your words
Broke through my walls
And I had to temper them with caffeine
One, two, endless cups of coffee
With each new idea,
Each mind-blossom opening --
Barista, hit me again.

When you fall in love
You drown yourself in wine
But when you fall in love with words
You crave more
Why does the café close at 9?

I'd invite you home,
But that kind of coffee
Has unintended meanings
So let's just go our separate ways
And try to sleep
Despite the chemical buzz
And the words ringing in our heads
That we can't forget
Or shut off

Monday, June 23, 2014

Maybe the night

Maybe the night gives me focus
To bring back warmth that once was real
The highwire, the dazzling upward spiral
Forward motion now no more than a memory
The lush fabric of longing reduced to threads
Fluttering in the wind
With love on my lips
And a minor second, minor third
I try to re-weave in song
The silk that surrounded,
Surrendered to endless possibility
Yet all is not possible
In the arid climate of reality
And only a shadow of what was now remains

Maybe the night gives me moments
Drops of the past in the present
A small taste, enough just to feel it
Then the waves swell away from the shore
I know it! I knew, and remember
Until it fades away
With love in my prayers
I return to the start
The air splashing over me
Yet if only the ocean...
If the hurricane came without warning
If it blew through life to destroy me
I would stand in the destruction
And forever remember the wind

Saturday, June 21, 2014

Guest posting on today

You flow effortlessly into the remainder of my nostalgia; a life of stamps on postcards, of sophisticated salons and bittersweet before-dinner drinks; of operas and foreign languages and relics from faraway lands.

I am honored that Anirban Saha, he of many hats, has asked me to guest post about my connect to Kolkata on his blog. He is a photographer, blogger, social media shining star, programmer, and deep thinker who I am pleased to call friend. As I make sense of my experiences with words, he composes and captures images to make sense of his world, and his photography site is not to be missed. I have met few people in this life who feel with the intensity - and express with the clarity - that he does. Sharing this 'piece of soul,' as he termed it when we first discussed this post, seemed a bit daunting and yet perfectly natural at the same time. I could not have written it with any other inspiration.

Do go read my short piece on my experience with Kolkata, and how it connects to the best of my life - Kolkata, a Love Story.