7/4/2011

Welcome me into the night
This night that is so yellow and so blue.
You come in different ways to see me
But I am blind and cannot see you.

The letters behave eratically
and the people they were born that way.
Someone is outside listening...
I lied..we are alone you and me..

Always teasing me
my laughless boy.
It was more like a soft bubbling
your hoots and little sounds of joy.

Such a small fellow
so much to give.
Here I am, holding on to this small green pillow
The one you used when we shared sleep.

I think I'll kiss you goodnight everynight
and dream you back to life.
Someday I'll stop
and so will my clock
And every other still and unstill light.

I am the light.
You are
of my eyes,my heart, my life.
Sleep, as I close my eyes.
For there you are always awake, alive.

Jojo candlesticks, hymns and gaalis
Lufi, Parpie
Only my breathing betrays
The silent shifting apart
of the two pieces of my heart
as it steadily, invincibly frays.

You made me so happy.
Now sadness has shades.
Today was a lighter one
Tomorrow?
Who knows
Maybe it'll be a stormy , cloudy grey.

But this night,
It is yellow and blue.
And this heart, this mind, this self.
No room, no space _ no one , but You.

3/4/2011

Please,as you go
Turn around to me.
Please, as you move on
Take your memories
So when you are not here
Not there
Or anywhere
I will not know or search
where you once were.

I want to stop writing
To you
Talking
To you
Seeing you
On the street
In the studio
Never.

I Breathe when I am alone
Because thats when you come
In the cool air
In the checkered light of the lamp
you gave me.
Then , I fall asleep
And .maybe I am alive in those hours.

Those hours
Without You
This year,
full of hours
Without you.

This day has finally come.
We have arrived at the place
Landmarked by your beautiful tombstone.
You said, to kiss the joy as it flies.
I only want to kiss you
with closed shut never-to-open eyes.

Runaway
Take me with.
No, that is not what I want.
Peace
Breath
I desire
Pain -to stop.
Stop now.
I am hopelessly hopeful
That when I see you again
We will both know.

But deep in me
I recognize the dark knowing
You did not know me then..
I only knew nothing
But even that was my perfect combination.

self indulgence (2/4/2011)

Today I felt loveless.No ,not so much "loveless" but just free....yes! free of the burden of the belief in love.Could it be that Jo was right to mock me , and that my unquestioning knowing and faith in this "love" was just blindness? denial? escapism?..identity construction mechanisms?
NO - I don't love you.I don't love anybody. Not in a suicidal "I hate you" way, but just honestly - I don't know about love.
Love...Finally you have deserted me.My mind has constructed this thing .There is wisdom in the un-American way of never saying "I love you".
I'm sleepy and senseless.I have shooting pains in what feels like my heart.I realize that one must try.
But I don't have any answers enough to know why I asked what I asked. Love, magic,eternity - do you desert me now?
I desert myself as I let you go. I must learn. Today even breath has been taken away... 'Life is changed..never taken away' - reads a tombstone passed.
Do your wise words protect or guide you my angel boy? You are in a place where I cannot see your curls and eyebrows the way they appeared to me two nights ago.Dreaming of you is now beautiful, I wake up with no pain from the time we spent in the night.
Your death becomes our life and we laugh, drink, eat, sing, worship, sleep, write, dance to send you further, to a place where you cannot hurt us from being in .
So far , that just for a minute you are not in every quivering blade of grass, or pink blossoming tree or bird call or anthill.
Somebody recently talked to me about 'unfiltered experience'. And I realize that you are the filter for every reality I dare to encounter.
It hurts to breathe .Your perfect because your dead. I wish I had seen your perfectness when you walked and talked and lay beside me- for real.
Where are you?
You are not.
I must let you go. I smell the need for change...time tumbles along, the gong has gone off -" 1 year..1 year ", it chimes.
My heart reminded me today to allow it to beat. I want to live and do and yes, even achieve...I want freedom and God and complete awareness . But most of all , I want to sleep.

Here..now

A word flashes accross , the screen and it means something. To me it means death. To me everything means death. I think life is lived so that one day you can exhale, blink and leave your body. We leave. We are left. Its not frightening.. not something you shouldn't tell your children about. Children know death much closer than you do. Remember , they just died..you may have forgotten..but they visit death often , like a well kept secret. And they come back. And they are not afraid. Its all very well to see color or watch films. To read newspapers and turn pages. Pens,words, guns,tea cups, boxes, books and ink. All put together they are a consciously constructed tool for contemporary existence. In other words "garbage dump". Such fun! sardonic acidic sayings are.They finish before they start and can be covered with cowdung on satin bed sheets. Never try to understand. Never...unless you are willing to give sanity a second chance. Danger and discipline, like pleasure and pity- the same.The same apple in the same seed in the same apple. You inside me two years ago, inside you two years ago.

Today somebody called me from an unknown number to say that I had won some free deal.I was quite exited at the possibility of a free trip and actually listened to her.She went on to confirm my e-mail address.o joseph @ hotmail . com
Just today..I wondered if you had completely stopped appearing or I had just stopped seeing you.It doesn't stop my love.
They keep saying- with time...with time ...with time all will heal.Its been a year and sometimes I have moments when I wonder how I have had done this- just lived normally ..been able to eat,dance,perform,sleep,laugh,love..all of it.And then in moments like this one it hits me..its a dream illusion.Somehow, I've convinced myself that the real place is where you are.. this place is just some parallel made of cardboard and jelly. I would ask you to wait for me..but you never did,I suppose its not any different now. They say your happier there. I don't know.
My aliveness is such a huge thing now..such a big deal..because you are not alive.The body and how I think of being in one..of actually occupying mine has transformed.I still ask but answers make me laugh.
Its not all bad.There are days when I am able to romantisize your disappearance..and I watch myself participating with all the others who miss you more than they can contain..and the eyes I watch with laugh because I have to be the world's best actress.I even convince myself.
I will always be where you are..though i don't know where that is.
This studio is where I first met you.You remain..doing jumps and kicks and showing off.Your still here giving me the "I'll come to your place after this " look. My phone goes off with the sound of sms s from you..telling me im crazy..im wonderful...Im your fairy ..telling me you can't meet..breaking up.. asking that we stay away. Inside me somewhere and around those inside parts,time has stood still and is in a loop called 'repeat'.
What you would want is for me to release you..you are released anyway.Nothing can change that.And why should I listen to you anyway! YOU never hear my voice anymore.Im so angry with you.
But you did listen.Only you heard.I don't want to speak anymore parpie. Sorry

Always a second chance.Really?

The worst thing is when you find yourself in a place where someone gives you a piece of their heart and you are compelled to return it because there is no way you can keep it safe.
I will have to live with this knot in my stomach and this acid at the base of my throat because this person accepts my heart as it it...and though it is full of holes,dark patches and irreparable parts.
Not a person I can talk to.I am again thoroughly and excrutiatingly isolated. Guilty...of convenience, guilty of selfishness, guilty of martyrdom and guilty of self-pity.
These silences steal my words from me and my voice sounds backwards into the dark of my gut where nothing escapes judgement.The judge am I. Judging my actions, intentions, inclinations...even my dreams as if it were all easy to forget. These judgements , they stay on like painful memories, they weigh more than the past and they are nobody's burden but mine.
Love is lost. Everything that could don the mask of simplicity has developed disappearances that cannot be undone. This paper, this chocolate, these ants and green slippers tell a tale of solitary confinement.
When I step out the world throws eggs at me behind my back. I am not angry , just appalled at the futility and wastage of these happenings we like to call repurcissions.
The sounds of gushing water ,a cat calling, clocks and my unregulated stiff breath - this is 1.30am in my life.In the night of this life.Night after night. Life after life. Every night,this life.