Listening To Meanings (day 2407)

You know
I’m standing here
Trying to listen to you
Trying to break out
Of my vision
Crooked and skewed
To a daylight
I see arching over Doi Suthep
In rose filled monograms.
A lava lamp of discussion
Concentrates my colliders
That don’t give me a chance
To deconstruct meanings.
No,
A flow has taken
Over a system of flutters,
My boredom insulting purity
That rocks back and forth
And forgetting
Once again
An understated meaning.

You’re Perfect (day 1958)

When I say you’re perfect
I mean it from the whole of my essence
From my tingling toes
To each breath I excitedly (and deeply) inhale,
From my deepest lost fantasy
To each lightly placed finger tip
That crawls every imagination I’ve got.
Your perfection seeds my stillness
That captures me in your grace.
Your wrong is not a wrong,
Your wrong is effort in my eyes
That nurtures your blossom,
Imagination takes your fancy
And lifts your spirit,
Infecting me like a perfect vision,
A serpent,
A sun rising from the horizon
Inch by inch warming my open eyes
To the miracle of a new day.
Your perfection isn’t in your perfect action,
Or your perfect features,
Or your perfect voice or perfect success,
Your perfection lies within your being.
Your perfection lies within your effort
That dances as you know how to dance
Over obstacles and through conversations,
That listens and speaks and shares and fights
And bruises and hurts and feels and bites.
Perfection is you, not the sum of your doings,
It stays with you as you go,
And returns again tomorrow,
It follows you into your messiest of days
And shadows you as you run.
When I say that you’re perfect,
It doesn’t hinge on how you treat me
Or what you bring me as a gift,
It doesn’t depend on your generosity
Or how close you hold my hand,
No, I mean it without you even knowing me
And I mean it as you walk upon your path,
I mean it as you say goodbye
And wave me our last kiss.

lisa-2

More or Less (day 1636)

Listening to me. Listening to feelings transpose into logic at a thousand frames per second. Listening to a new widow sigh on a train into dark night.

With your help I have gone a step beyond. An echo off in the distance as a bat flaps it’s wings in pure silence. But my heartbeat has become deafening, your pulse as elixir.

Listening to me delicately tap echoing waves into a silent-still pond, fireflies becoming breath upon my eyes here aglow. And a memory, just like you said: life is not more less.

Looked Like a Lover (day 779)

She looked like a lover I used to have
Who wouldn’t let me hold her tight
Though she’d lay naked on my bed

She looked like a lover I used to know
Who would sing a song to my keen heart
Then tell me not to listen to a word

She looked like a lover I used to love
Eyes so wide, figure so heavenly
But she told me not to smile again

She looked like a lover I used to believe
Words weaving dreams and harmony
Till she blew out her last plume of smoke

She looked like a lover I used to praise
Elegant and beauty deep and divine
Then she spoiled my words with one final goodbye

Unfinished Business (day 168)

I remember
I hold
I used to sing late at night
I used to hold memories as if they could comfort me

Now
Now I keep telling myself
Whats been has been
No need to forget just move on
No need to wallow just move on
No need to listen just believe

The pieces that once were
Never were

The pieces that have hit the floor
Were never me