delicate, verbal snapshots

pieces from a closely kept notebook

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

01.04.05
the conductor

the lovers laughed cold
as their weightless hands
and heavy bodies
inspected their condition

what price do we pay for sentiment, for comfort?
what sacrifice is made when all senses scream,
halt! this is it.

your final destination?
the train stops here, now you may land and be grounded
now you may build your world from the
scraps of beauty and misfortune you've been
collecting for hundreds of lifetimes

the conductor tips his hat to you and
in the winking of his eye, indicates
that indeed, this destination is yours

and he has seen these destinations
seen the doe eyed children hand in hand
seen the creator's build life,
he has seen them

he has seen the squandered time, salvation..
hands of the poor mans redemption
rejected
by hearts too worldly conditioned to care

but the conductor only winks,
as if to transfer all omnipotent knowing
into the crevices of your vessel
words are most often unnecessary
when your pulse beats straight into another's

in the ebb and flow of the conductor's eye
an invocation
of both futile lives
and the faith of an ornate future
soon you too will find

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

01.11.05
11:45 pm

If ever I
stumbled to your door
begging for shelter no one else would afford
If ever I
gave all my ways
to the pull of your gears, long turned into place
If ever I
loved
I did you
If ever I
broke anything
I did this too
If ever I
never meant to pull from the seams
know that it was for you, only you
I'd try at the very least
If ever I
scolded my own lies
it was by the light of faith
that I let gently die
beneath our shadowed, palm-to-palm ties
If ever I
woke with relief
it was by the shape of infinity to come
forshadowed between your borrowed sheets
If ever I
failed, to be good to you
know that I fought
until blood fall
If ever I
hear you question the curse
may you rest easy, dear
with no regret from this discourse
If ever I
lived, I surely did within you
If ever I
tried
how i tried to be true.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

01.11.05
my city love

french toast in the mornings
tucked in before bed
you, my city love
will always be with me

you, my city love
who saved this lost heart
years before, forgotten by
the racing pace of a millions pulse

tied tight to the inflection
of your own mostly solitary tongue
i found my way down your vessel
to rest in the comfort of your throne

started with the disclaimer
of neither's expectations for anythings
and bit our tongues when devouring
hopeless attempts to evade this implication's inevitability

i miss you, my city love and i always will
there will never be another of you
not in the city markets
not in the thousand subways tracks
or perpetual traffic sounding
not on the stages, not at the bars
the island of infinity will never again find such hearts.

fare the well.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

01.28.05
Return

The sharp snow engulfing the streets is worlds away from the streaming subway holes below. The fluorescent glow transfixes the thousands of pattering eyes, there they all are, so somber by all outside accounts, yet their mere existence and excess of collective energies bring my visions back to full blown technicolor. Gradually, you feel your body melt into this limitless collective of motion, of life. Bustling, gurgling, ripping from it's structure. Your feet become weightless as you pass through these wonderland scenes. Embers rose from deep within my gut and I felt revived to all around me. Reminded of the substantial effects such fervently provocative city protocols can induce. Pushing the budding soul to seek further, greater truths, convictions and interactions. Here was mother Manhattan back to greet me with her now gentler hands. I guess she was over her upset of me wanting to never return to this wretched place, to just stick to the creature comforts of a real home, with a real history. In her forgiveness, I too forgot all consideration of possibly living anywhere else but this city. I remembered the essence of reason in my need to reside in such a place, despite it's endlessly harsh in's-and-out's, and despite it's fist of ambivalence. Home was now to be found in these swirling motions, sounds and fluctuations. A constant change and challenge to lift hearts and heads.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

02.01.05
winter's casual observation

black is the unspoken uniform of new york city.
black, sleek, wool, leather, silk, the finest dark threads,
no doubt made by meticulous hand made hands,
a glamorous price tag affording you a place as a mere silhouette

mostly places next to others in this dark abyss, turning you into only
an unknown with no reference for the divide between individuals.
but my how they do look nice juxtaposed next to the snow,
they always stand out when outside in the cold
they are so, manhattan aren't they?
perhaps trying to hide their fame
or scandal
in a cloak of unwritten codes