I wonder
how many people
are waiting
for me to
call
or
text
or
send a package
fed-ex
or
swing by.
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
Monday, October 06, 2008
(not) surprisingly
I am
.....................(secretly)
(not) satisfied
with (your) words
or (my) lack
of
............(sweet)
words -
........(mocking)
the (terrible)
feelings
..............................(knocking)
inside (me and you)
growing
.......................(blindingly)
strong and
................(unmistakingly)
wilting into
...........................................(UNCONCIOUS)
(effortless) hope(ful)
.....(nothings)
I am
.....................(secretly)
(not) satisfied
with (your) words
or (my) lack
of
............(sweet)
words -
........(mocking)
the (terrible)
feelings
..............................(knocking)
inside (me and you)
growing
.......................(blindingly)
strong and
................(unmistakingly)
wilting into
...........................................(UNCONCIOUS)
(effortless) hope(ful)
.....(nothings)
travel (completely random...or not)
v formation
contentment
sunset
glow of moon
among clouds
of purple
and pink
home
and
away
large enough
to get lost
inside
but small
enough to
find the
way
home
and
away
from all
those
people I
wouldn't
sit near
anway
yet regret
the photo
opps for
odd reasons
now that
I am
home
and
away
from everyone
else I
did
enjoy
contentment
sunset
glow of moon
among clouds
of purple
and pink
home
and
away
large enough
to get lost
inside
but small
enough to
find the
way
home
and
away
from all
those
people I
wouldn't
sit near
anway
yet regret
the photo
opps for
odd reasons
now that
I am
home
and
away
from everyone
else I
did
enjoy
Sunday, October 05, 2008
Eid Mubarak...
It was here,
that feeling of
joy mixed with
a sense of sadness
at losing the time
and gaining
the experiences.
It was here,
that feeling of
emptiness when
everything is over
and you wish
you hadn't
said it
and you wish
you hadn't
been there
when it happened,
but you were
and you did
and you'll
likely
do it again.
It was here
the idea
that I'd write
something
somewhat
somehow
someway
upbeat and not
anything like
I'm feeling
now but in every
way how I was
feeling when
we chanted
like children
and handed
out balloons
like adults
and smiled
like we meant it
and laughed
like we were pleased
and ate
like we had starved
and cried
like we were devoid of tears.
It was here
that I began
with a greeting
of peace and hope
and blessings
upon our
feast
but
ended
up just venting
those pent
up feelings
of I don't
know what
exactly.
It was here
that I began
to write my
poetry again,
those words
I write to
try to say
what I want
to say
but cannot
say because
I never
intended to say them
at all
since they
are empty
words filled
with feelings
as empty as
the ocean and
as calm as
the tempest
seas and
as meaningless
as scripture.
It was here
that I began to
write, albeit
only a few words
in each line, those
ideas that popped
into my
head and
lingered, even if
for only a moment,
and took over
my being and
function of
fingers and
hand.
It is here
that I have chosen
to write of my
sorrow, even as
I try to write of my
happiness, for who can be
happy without
a hint of sadness
or celebrate
without a piece
of despair in their
heart, however
small.
It is here
that I write my
words that mean
something to me
but nothing
to someone.
It is here I will stop,
the writing,
not the loving
nor the hating
nor the breathing.
***
Other than my little tirade a few days late, my Eid was great. Eid Mubarak to everyone. When I'm feeling less empty, I'll write something more fulfilling. Maybe. :)
that feeling of
joy mixed with
a sense of sadness
at losing the time
and gaining
the experiences.
It was here,
that feeling of
emptiness when
everything is over
and you wish
you hadn't
said it
and you wish
you hadn't
been there
when it happened,
but you were
and you did
and you'll
likely
do it again.
It was here
the idea
that I'd write
something
somewhat
somehow
someway
upbeat and not
anything like
I'm feeling
now but in every
way how I was
feeling when
we chanted
like children
and handed
out balloons
like adults
and smiled
like we meant it
and laughed
like we were pleased
and ate
like we had starved
and cried
like we were devoid of tears.
It was here
that I began
with a greeting
of peace and hope
and blessings
upon our
feast
but
ended
up just venting
those pent
up feelings
of I don't
know what
exactly.
It was here
that I began
to write my
poetry again,
those words
I write to
try to say
what I want
to say
but cannot
say because
I never
intended to say them
at all
since they
are empty
words filled
with feelings
as empty as
the ocean and
as calm as
the tempest
seas and
as meaningless
as scripture.
It was here
that I began to
write, albeit
only a few words
in each line, those
ideas that popped
into my
head and
lingered, even if
for only a moment,
and took over
my being and
function of
fingers and
hand.
It is here
that I have chosen
to write of my
sorrow, even as
I try to write of my
happiness, for who can be
happy without
a hint of sadness
or celebrate
without a piece
of despair in their
heart, however
small.
It is here
that I write my
words that mean
something to me
but nothing
to someone.
It is here I will stop,
the writing,
not the loving
nor the hating
nor the breathing.
***
Other than my little tirade a few days late, my Eid was great. Eid Mubarak to everyone. When I'm feeling less empty, I'll write something more fulfilling. Maybe. :)
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