Friday, March 13, 2009

highway 27


driving so deliberately through the morning fog. star flies circled around my sight. breaking into the brilliant bleak sunshine. slowing down into new worlds. stopping and hearing birds sing made me want to stay. or at least roll the windows down to hear them.


i thought about all the times that i could have taken someone home. but was too blind or stupid or afraid. i thought about being mixed up and coming out again. a metamorphosis into enlightenment in the scope of a few miles. the new beauty of a forgotten place puts things into perspective.


a wanting for something bigger than the sphere around my head. taking myself back with music. getting myself back with a song. i wished that i had someone to share some thoughts. there's something about the way the light hits the landscape in the morning. there's something comforting about seeing this for miles ahead.


there's something about the way the miles are counting down. like your life running out of time. there's no time like the present to be so lonely. the wiser we get the harder it is to talk about it. like how two people sit in silence. like cats together with intersecting lines of sight.


the tears only come when you're alone. they're so fortified and held in tight. but released by something as simple as "the creation story". or "let it be". i can think of a few words to live by. i can see the road ahead and i'm happy to get to where i am going.

ancient position


i'm stuck here in this ancient position. the world keeps moving away from me. ways that i had fashioned myself sinking into the muck (or rising through). envisioning a fire burning away any chance that i had to redeem it (or see it through). erosion is happening every day and all the time. the landscape that i see the sun drift away over. is wrecked through the fumes. i can't quite get there to collect the ruins or survey the damage. all that i have are some used ideas about some place where i could have been. seeing life through the photographs. expressions marked like words in a book. this isn't a vision. as much as a commentary.