Honestly, I'm a Liar, & Other Balances & Imbalances

July 31, 2014

“COULD HAVE” –Wislawa Szymborska

Filed under: lost, mirrors, POEM, poetry, private, prose, surreal, WISE UP — Tags: , , , , , — namelessneed @ 7:53 am

It could have happened

It had to happen./It happened earlier. Later.

Nearer. Farther off.

It happened, but not to you.

You were saved because you were the first.

You were saved because you were the last.

Alone. With others.

On the right. The left.

Because it was raining. Because of the shade.

Because the day was sunny.                                                                                                                     

You were in luck — there was a forest.

You were in luck — there were no trees.

You were in luck — a rake, a hook, a beam, a brake,

A jamb, a turn, a quarter-inch, an instant . . .

So you’re here? Still dizzy from

another dodge, close shave, reprieve?

One hole in the net and you slipped through?

I couldn’t be more shocked or

speechless.

Listen,

how your heart pounds inside me.

Submitted: F

July 28, 2014

Your Mind Is Your Predicament

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , , , , , — namelessneed @ 5:00 am

 

 

“If you don’t get what you want, you suffer; if you get what you don’t want, you suffer; even when you get exactly what you want, you still suffer because you can’t hold on to it forever. Your mind is your predicament. It wants to be free of change. Free of pain, free of the obligations of life and death. But change is law and no amount of pretending will alter that reality.”

 

                                                                         -Socrates

July 26, 2014

HOW THEN THE HEAVENS POURED

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , — namelessneed @ 9:09 am

 

 

  

Should I get older

I recognize me,  more blind,

Crinking my neck back, there, as

I look up at the cliff terrace

And A windowed hideaway behind,

Not so unapproachably high,

Fixed over our Pacific, finally,

That we thought might couldn’t be.

Hard rain, hell, wept down a wet

that mixes well w/regret, on my shirt

.

                                                  2

.

One can look past all our four shoulders

From inside the glass wall

On the backside of our Adirondacks

And maybe just make out

What we’re watching and talking about.

A man closely following his own footsteps

The long stretch of the shore,

But looked up at the both of us,

Here Hand in hand, and how then the heavens poured.

 

 

 

 

July 21, 2014

Goings On In Glass

Filed under: dream, fragments, lost, mirrors, photography, private, stream of consciousness, surreal, visions, windows — namelessneed @ 6:10 am

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