Thinking About the Indefinite

Can you picture the place
In which you'll be
When the hands of time
Have wound the clock
With such subtle consistency?

Can you perceive yourself
As you might be,
Not now but then,
When, after you've been
Gone so long,
You are something unforeseen?

Imagine the end,
The one plot line component
No author can omit.
The gentle end, the forgiving end,
The one thing on which you can depend.

Could you perhaps undo the future
Before it ever happens;
Rewrite your supposed fate
As you see fit, and then pursue it,
Give life to your own creative wit.
And then never worry about the end.

I do wish to see you again.

A Dream Derailed

Extract the reality from the banality

That is every day, every moment.

Let’s take it back to when ideas

Would swarm, spin, reorganize

Like nanobots playing musical chairs

Or epistemological spoons.

Look me in the eye and tell me

That this isn’t a fickle façade.

The whirring white noise is

Unsettling, I’m surrounded by sound

To which my mind attributes no meaning

But my body graces with a smile.

What is continuity, what is change,

What the hell is progress? Growth?

Am I moving forward, sliding backward,

Standing balanced on my pedestal?

Knock me off, please, I want to feel

Real, raw, drained out and rejuvenated.

Please, don’t let the winds take my flesh

And leave what’s left to crawl behind.

Sweet Surrender

I can still see the invisible smiles.
I hear your voice as it dissolves into static.
My fingertips still buzz with your energy,
Conserved only deep within me.

My mind’s racing in reverse
While my feet carry me forward.
I am a continuum, I am a vacuum,
I am but a line in space.

Open your eyes, peer into mine,
Then tell me why I’m tethered
To elastic, why the dust flirts with the wind
And sublimity overwhelms me.

Tell me why my gut quivers
At the thought of walking away,
And joy is contingent upon your approval…
Tell me when sanity went awry.

Your retreat marks my defeat,
And my victory all the same.
I’m free from your suffocating embrace
That always took my breath away.

Yet I always imagined I would mean
Everything, something, anything to you.
I never thought I’d be insignificant.
No, I never thought that.

Lost words itch across my skin
Like clear ink on flaky papyrus.
And as they're slipping away,
I close my eyes and smile
At you.

Still There

It's all the same now
As it was then.
The same people,
Same circumstance,
The same uncertainty,
The same dumb chance.

But peculiarly
It just diesn't feel quite right,
Quite like you hoped it might.
And frustration inflitrates effort
As you seem unable to feel what you desire,
And find yourself debating
Whether you can't or if emotion's
Made you a liar.

Because you miss it so,
That notion like no other,
The certain twist in your stomach
And the thronging in your chest,
That one mixture of excitement
And uncertainty unlike all the rest.

But suddenly you pick up a scent,
You catch a glimpse,
A delusional moment of dejavu.
And everything comes back to you.
The butterflies have taken flight once more
Just like they did before.

And you're suddenly consumed with indefinite relief,
For in knowing that it's still there,
You're spared from dulling, dreadful, desperate grief.

Home

I cannot find a place to rest my head

Where I may repose in the quiet and feel wholly

Serene.

This place is the place in which all comes together to one

And that which does not is no matter because it will all

Heal with time.

A place to be at place in,

To belong and feel connected

To an ideal extending past your own existence,

A concept that ought to be a tangible reality

But all I find upon my search is floating away

Effortlessly.

Running underwater, I cannot retrieve what I hope

Whether I close my eyes and ignore the difference in solitude

Or whether I mold myself with indifference to the difference

If only to be somehow in the right place, at the right time.

When all is transient and untethered,

I can enclose myself in the shadows of my mind and wish to be

Home.