Category: Secret Religion

-Had you’ve had a voice you would have screamed you would have cried you would have mimicked every muffled sound you’d ever heard attempting to make your presence known, calling attention to you. You did none of these, you kicked, when you needed space you kicked, when you awoke you kicked, before drifting back into dreams and slumber You kicked for months becoming, with each kick, more comfortable in your space, in your world, in the safety of the way it yielded to your movement and allayed the possibility of yearning, so that you were in each moment soothed Space […]

-Experience is threefold, the moment before the moment- when we build expectation, the moment as we live it and think ahead to when we will think back on it, and the moment long after as we dust it off and take only what we want.

-Time floods us with so much; what we experience, what we take to create what we remember, always after and never at the moment of life unfolding.

-Enter the space of my awareness become born again– an entity similar to your embodiment yet never complete in my imagining as you become filtered through  the different layers of me  you become born of yearning and absence–

–Amidst the clatter of the waves crashingthe seagulls squawk echoing, andthe breeze colliding with earth and skyas the clouds acted as buffer to the sun;in that dim moment, standing, facing south,so far from the space of my own existence,it dawned on me-an epiphany, as you enteredmy thoughts for the second time that day earlier, before the raindrops were driedin the breeze, as the dark of night clungto the day like a small child, I found myselfin the midst of a conversation, one thathad absolutely nothing to do with you, and yetas I interjected into that conversation, whichcouldn’t have been further […]

-The image of you I harbor, is not the you I have yet to meet, or the you I’ve already seen in a faded photograph it is an image constructed of your words the ideas that hold them in place the ideas which created the ideas which you express it is an idea sewn together by words sewn onto an idea I had previously which had little to do with you but everything to do with an image So the image I have of you is less your image and more ideas and words which fit previous daydreams about ideas […]

-With you once, perhaps more, the rhetorical figure relaxed leaving only the literal to be understood, and I did understand. If two bodies can come together and be one, in those moments, free of the rhetorical figure, there was no division between us. Every other time it was you, me, and the bed, divisible by three. In the presence of rhetoric, everything becomes divisible.

-Blue-green sifting tides, as sediment disperses and the great island is lessened. A man, feet burrowed deep, in sandas his fist tightens holding to. The breeze alights, as the sand shifts and escapes, and time passes. The morning light fades, the man stands empty handed, and bends again. Squinting eyes, he watches the world on sojourn, imagines the photograph he mightattempt, to stop time. With each blink of eyes, it iserased and replaced. A successive erosion of timeand space, and footprints. His face turns, giving in to gravity;his thoughts on his child. So many moments, he could never keep them […]

-The fatigued fist unclenches like grains of sand, time defies constrainment a lifetime gone, a lifetime left listen to the laughter, taste the tears …live

–In the middle of a restless night, the moonlight crashing; on, through, dissipating in – the window’s pane, the glass, into the moments of the past.   The wrestling of the body  the mind writhing in attempts to extricate and mount all memories remaining of moments exposed ———-now displaced.   The etchings, now time worn vaguely recollect life, some times a lifetime, some times simply brief breaths held so long nothing remained but laughter.   In the night’s breeze, in its debris what remains tumbles about, reminding etchings of origins and whispering of a possibility that has long been spent.