The Continual State: A Conversation

"I just want to make you happy"

Where is happiness?

Can we point to it?

You say it sadly and I don't understand.

Happiness is movement,

the continual and arduous task of growth.

If you want me to be happy, then why do you sound so sad.

Can't you see?

The very thought of you delights me.

I may not smile all the time

or whisper softly in your ear.

But, my dearest,

I've got to have you near.

I don't express as one typically expresses

and I don't see happiness as that city on the hill.

At the core of my experience

beats your heart and mine

through the good and the bad

for better or worse

ever hoping, never to part.

The Reckoning of Beauty

Unaware of the existence, 

I believe with some persistence

you'll see me as I've always been. 

A lotta sweet, 

a little spice. 

Wouldn't everything be better, if I was a little too nice? 

Eyes too wild, and my mind too busy. 

Fleeting and steady as the sun, 

my thoughts lend to you, 

thinking of me, 

thinking of you. 

Love for you weighs more than the substantive elements in this world. 

This time it does not compete with my own love. 

That which is reserved for me. 

Therein lies your beauty, 

in the struggle with my own, 

in the transformation of my will to self-objectification, 

       to my will to power. 

Therein lies our truth

in our will to love and our care to strengthen. 

Everything that lies, truthfully, 

between us, 

Beautifully. 

You, the Revelator

Held captive by idealism

he avoided my gaze.

Yeah sweetheart, we all want to do

whatever we want,

untethered.

And it's never beautiful, until someone gets hurt.

you.

In the end, you will hurt

the most.

You were the greediest of all, us.

Dreams of my grandfather tell me no lie

Only the steadfast fighter,

can sit at my throne.

Only the untamed lion,

can stand by my side.

Only the man who cooks breakfast,

can take solace in my bed.

Phenomenology isn't Psychology!

Beloved, beloved

my quiet beloved

Let us dance the dance of the night sky

you exist so calmly here.

The necessity of your presence

isn't necessarily necessary,

but in fact an unnecessary beat of my heart.

You were never mine, so were perfect.

Our love was never ours, so it was transcendent.

This is the only ode,

I can give you.

The only truth I have left,

Our purpose will never be actualized,

inauthenticity won us long ago.

Beloved, beloved please kiss me slower.

The Rose Tattoo

Birds of a feather, must stick together

So I clung to your truth, without examining my own

Those days were long ago

After Christ, the loss of him

But, before my roses bloomed or needed to be pruned.

If you kissed me lightly,

I would not recede or concede

but, more than likely bleed.

From the absolute of no knowing you,

from the struggle for recognition.

Oh Holy Stranger! Give to me your bonds and chains

I can set you free and hold you tight

and scatter bright diamonds across the night.

Won't you let me stop talking and show you?

Fastened Concepts in Your Belt.

Those bells toll for me, sir. 

Slowly embraced

Slowly kissed

The meadows of experience

echo the bells of bliss.

The shivering limbs

of the dismal tree.

The lingering fear taking over on the sullen dirt.

We laid cold there, my neck open and nearly bare.

Cruel whips of wind,

infused with the heat of passion

made tender our hearts

and languid our wits, 

made me a fool and you the hero.

And still you wanted another beer though.

Am I not intoxicating enough?

It was never about getting drunk,

you only want me to admire you.

December Blackbirds in July

WIth eyes as wide as the bulb

and a stomach as small as the seed.

She never knew exactly what it was,

you need

You couldn't get his girl away from her own seed.

She thought she knew what was

but circles turn circles around themselves when she's around

She's the rarest of the flock.

She the darkest of the night.

The only December blackbird that never took flight.

Rough hands fit not around her neck,

and she never asked for your respect,

but what do you expect?

A December blackbird caused your wreck.

Let everyman ring church bells for her

She never once knew what her heart was for,

but snow dances in the sun.

And the blackbird spreads her flighted core.

A winter's day in mid-july.

She Won't Shut Up

Retro-fit to Retrograde

This machine is broken.

I will forever bear witness to truth and justice.

I will forever give you a danceable education.

Ramped Militarianism, Racism, Poverty, Materialism

All of the world's tragedy's

that haven't  our youthful glee.

Those catastrophe's that reflect the mundane of her cultural decay, economic injustice, and political paralysis.

This machine is breaking down!

Lock my body in a cell, behind the iron door.

Hide the evidence,

of deconstruction

decipher the truth of her construct.

Be callous in your interpretation of her,

because perfection is forever all around us

and she doesn't want you to be human.

Her oligarchical being has been super-imposed

So much so that we became powerless in social despair.

This machine is broken.

Symbiotic Promises...

AgNo3 +Na2CO3-->AgCo3 + Na2(NO3)

But nature played its' trick on me.

Constantly promising me the joy of high tide when the moon fights fiercely with the will of the water.

Even poison isn't as cruel as the emptiness you promised me.

Promising something already broken

and as soon as you promised it,

you took it away.

Construction and deconstruction

the mark of a true tyrant.

And, I've angered you.

You tense and the timbre of your voice

wavers as I slowly and methodically

undress you insecurities.

Draining the veins in your head as you clean out the red in my eyes.

We promised, you promised, I promised, they promised.

Whatever the case, whatever the promise

They'll never be anything more than a wave,

giving and taking, simultaneously.

Out here, trying to function

Where some people have less than enough, no one should have more than enough.

In all the spaces where inequality resides,

bad faith first appeared when we began to blame each other.

When you though I needed you more and I felt individual action was powerless.

Calm a space for us,

in the subjective corridors of tomorrow.

Can we be free of the illusions that used to console us?

But, this is how woman is brought up,

without ever being impressed with the necessity of taking charge of her own existence.

And,

I'm ever searching and catching fleeting moments of the transcendent,

accessing it through intertwined limbs and dry lips in the heat of summer.

With clipped wings and an unnatural happiness,

you kissed me softly in the cold.

Sitting in the Cold

I can feel it, deep within my bones

Brushing against my face,

gnawing at my fingers.

If I were to move any faster

The feeling would linger around my ankles.

Everything is one.

A monad amongst monads

reflecting each other

I'm cold you see and the glistening white snow 

does nothing to warm me.

Born unto the conditions from the warmest regions of mankind.

I'm cold you see and I haven't an outlet to let it out of me.

We were more human in this weather.

More likely to feel pain.

Those who rush by me, eyes averted

Don't even know my name.

My attempts to curl myself around myself have no weight.

It's cold enough for me to see, that which is inside of me.

Outside of me.

The subjective and the objective

once again confirming,

just how cold I am sitting outside.

I'm Too Absent To Tast This Love!

How can you say those things about me?

All that I have been and will be.

We can't even dance to our own beat, whatever that is..

Because, rhythm left you long ago

in the threshold of colonialism, with the martyr's of tomorrow

and genius of yesterday.

Raped by the entrepreneur and loved by all the women

I was not.

Well, I don't care if you don't

I remember everything.

Like dry lips in the summer and notes I have never expressed

The music that you forgot. 

Those beats still run wild through my being,

and yours? You have none

only what's immediate and non debatable.

But I remember everything including

childhood aspirations, our purest memory.

You know me,

That neither here nor there

I can't recount to you the many ways of creation.

None of which weighs down on my being.

If I had your face, I'd end on a good note.

In the warm sunlight

under dense covers surrounded by the village and,

encouraged by the truth.

I Don't Just Lay There, If That's What You Were Wondering, I'm Always Already an Active Participant.

Even the moon sinks into languid darkness during the daytime.

But only our dreams exist without occupying space.

Luckily, I only work in sepia tones and my dreams are my only problem.

I'm not really that drunk,

you see me stumbling around town because of my lack of pleasure.

I know so little because I'm too curious and I'm a better actor now that I used to be.

None of that's my problem

it's the dreams that really grinds my gears

dreaming of tangible reality

dreaming of rented rooms, filled with love musk

Don't worry, I'll put that all in a savings account

that has a high interest rate.

You don't have to be my bank

You won't have to keep safe all that society define's me to be.

Maybe you'll get a grip of me one day.

No!

You can't catch me! I want to die and live forever.

You can't catch me, I want to die and live forever.

I want to die and live forever.

live forever, die forever.

I'll take myself out of the world's history and become

authentically love.

The Last Homage to my Dying King...

Is it typical, that if I don't have it

I'll miss it?

As a child, I always wanted to be alone,

gloriously alone!

But, I don't want you to leave me that way

I want the lights on and the door open,

everyone should know our love.

But that's neither here nor there,

you're still alone,

and I still find comfort when you walk through the door,

The question of reality presents itself in every experience

and you are needed to validate my own.

I'll just break this down

I run into epistemological problems when you're not around.

I found my way to reality and I declare the latter to be fiction.

This is my last homage to you.

I've lived this experience

and it has already, always been meaningful

Now that I have reduced this consciousness, I can return to life.

Logical Statement Between U and I

Minds filled with dust

Before we were taught verbal language

A language you and I understand,

And yet nothing is ever said

Words fall upon deaf ears

Silence reveals more than the cacophony of voices

It took longer than I thought it would to understand emotions.

Even now nothing reveals itself

And even now I don’t trust them

You want to love, care, hate, etc.

But, nothing is more comprehendable than touch,

A look, a smile, your movement

Movements in silence,

Movements in time, that weight down on my being.

Convicted in chains,

Convicted in movement,

Convicted in position.

The logic of the combination is valid

If and only if it is consensual.

Sensual on both ends

If the equations is balanced

If you feel me ….and I you

How unfortunate that our contraposition should be valid.

Concentrated Happiness

Leaves only turn towards the sun out of necessity

And we never asked questions about why or how

When the child was a child

Such questions were relevant, prevalent

Curiosity that could be pure muddled by taxes, the first love, your citi card bill, the scapegoat war.

And still, leaves turn towards the sun,

Finding joy in photosynthesis

I found it in the wrong place

In the shape of your face, heart, mind, brows, lips

When I should’ve found it in myself.

In the days of now,

I’ve learned contentment on my own

I no longer turn towards the sun

I radiate my own being

And yours no longer warms me

The song sings my own being

And yours is no longer melodic

When the child was a child

Such questions of why and how were relevant, prevalent

Curiosity muddled by the third person

Who told us what our happiness was not

who defined what my happiness should be.

We ignored our own recognition, definition.

And now I radiate my own light

And now you reflect it.

ASAW10/18/2010

I Love the Man!

C’etais la derniere fois que j’etais libre

It was the last time I was free

And even then you ravaged me into

Believing in my own enslavement

“You can’t get out of society! You’re trapped in a cyclical slave trade!”

I laughed and told you that he set me free

Two or three times last night

What I mean was that I let myself be free as soon as I embarked on that long journey of concentrated heat.

He had come to take me home and I found home

In the coolness of his heat,

In the warmth of his embrace,

In the character of his violent gestures.

J’etais la, j’etais libre

I was there, I was free

Free to be authentic in my own love,

Free to be authentic in my own death,

Free to be authentic in my own time,

The entire city taking part in our decision,

To go home, together, freed by the

Bonds of necessity and desire

All the while enslaved by them.

Je suis la, je suis libre

Desire Breeds Longing

I sit silently, constantly

Wavering between the many consciousness’

Seeing all thoughts that pass by

I can’t break into the color

Without denying who I am, and while I am who I am

I’m withholding myself from my own inner desires

Do they even matter?

Lifeless bodies lay hopeless

And I care about the immediate

Feigning torture while cruel whips lick the backs of babies

I’m wavering between the many consciousness

Watching the plight and variance of human emotion

Enough of the world, behind the world!

I’m a natural scientist

Observing the spectacle of humanity

Because I have none left

And the only way I’ll get it back

Is to throw myself towards death

And yet, I have only to lift my eyes

And I am once again the world

Trust without Belief

A measurement is nothing without knowledge of its uncertainty

How can I know of your truth without acknowledging your ambiguity?

All sense of that was lost that night

Thanks to old friends, I don’t particularly care for

But my actions say otherwise

It’s unclear whether I’m supposed to change, or whether you had ill intentions

But, there’s a merlot stain on my gown and it’s not coming out anytime soon

I’m tired of giving trust and watching it all fall like rosy cherry blossoms in Spring

All the while you kept expecting, and all the while it was you shaking the tree

Measuring truth isn’t done in words

…no words aren’t any good unit

But through movement, actions

Show me your truth and I’ll gladly bear open mine

I’ll gauge your uncertainty as you gauge mine

The subjective and the objective

Assessing the ambiguity

I’m sure we’ll find the beauty of us.

Filling the Void

Empty circles encompassing my being

I’ve been looking, searching for plugs

To clot the wounds

You’ve left

You’re the only one I’ve chose and no one

Can fill the void

You’ve left

You’ve made everything dull and lifeless

Frost covers my morning window in

Heavy aired months of summer

But then again

You’ve left

I know it’s only been a couple

Days, Months, Years

But, all that I encounter is Made in China

Only you emanate authenticity

I sing of your endless leaving

I can no longer find the intensity and there’s an absence of intentionality

Only makeshift copies of your form

I’ve started to fill the void with synthetic fibers

Do you really want to see me this way?

My supposed consciousness wandering through this lithe purgatory

Rough winds blowing be towards your absence

I’ll linger here until you return

With that you’ll bring the authenticity, the intentionality

Those a posteriori moods, you seem so fond of

You’ll bring back the presence that damned

The void left in me