Brink: A Poem


What is the surface?

Spastic unfurling, reflection

of the tiniest orbit

into a compact orb.

Undulating, rolling out

dancing and reacting.

Painting of orange, painting of black,

backwash of blue,

a receiver and demystifier,

everything is quantum.

Bits lay about, bits

that make a whole, a form, a figure.

Rounded fractals that sparkle

and others floating in

murkier mutterings.

The throbbing pulse,

the proffered answers, not entirely prophetic,

the call to challenge

join me.

Rocking, cradel, lullaby, torment––

across the rocks to the floor,

away from the surface. Far below.

And the emptiness,

as it surges,

is realised to have been there all along.

The heartbeat was only a façade

for the vast

and the endless

and the unstoppable forces

that knowledge cannot conquer.

There is no other beauty

like the worshipped binary

existing as a comfort, if only

to hold back ugly honesties.

 

And that is what we think now,

sinking.

Below the layers

of sunlight creeping in,

there is an admirable serenity.

There is no black

no white,

only undertones and overtones of gray.

Finally, to lack is to have.

Finally, we possess all things.

Advertisements

Narcissism


woman-hugging-mirror-280x280

I realized recently that I am the most important person in my life. Everything I know is tainted by my own bias. Everything that happens in my life is connected to me. I am shrouded in a blanket of my own cares and worries. My decisions affect everything I do or say. No matter what I do, I can’t avoid me.

Sure, some people might say that’s narcissistic. And they’re probably dead-on. But narcissism is a natural state for human beings. We can’t escape being obsessed with ourselves because we are constantly surrounded by ourselves. That might just be me, though, because I don’t have a great number of platforms for love but I still have love to give.

Although I am not a fan of my current position in life, I know that I am severely important to at least one person. Even if that person is me. It’s nice to know this when I don’t feel like I’m important to anyone.

So go ahead. Tell me I’m lonely, I’m egotistic. I won’t deny it. I’ve simply found a way to beat the system.

Ciao for now,

Mikki

i wonder: A Poem


camas-prairie-at-sunset-225383

i wonder,

what is it that makes a horizon so distant?

it’s where the sun sleeps every night

but we can never lay our own heads there.

i wonder when

we’ll be able to feel each other’s fingers

touching each other,

looking out into the orange

at the end of the day, and ask,

why wasn’t the world always like this?

i wish i could point to the people now

who would look at a difference and

beg in their prayers,

why am i different?

i would point to them and say because

our differences make us similar.

i would point to them and with the other hand

take all their hands,

and we would sit along the shore and wonder this:

why

is the horizon so far away? and

what will it take to swim there?

Twelve: A Poem


121212_16x9_430x242

i’ve never had much faith in astrology

or ancient messages,

or unreliable things like that.

i’ve never thought much of

hearsay.

but something about the way

someone said,

“never again, for a hundred years,”

made me think differently.

“not until after we’re dead,”

made me want to cry.

“just this last time in our lives,” reached my spirit.

i crossed my fingers and

toes,

and squinted my eyes,

and held my

breath,

and my eyes opened

after

the second had passed.

i began to worry,

maybe my clock had been off by some

fraction of a fraction,

maybe i had missed it in its entirety. but

some part of me believed

that it had

worked.

never again, for a hundred years. not until after we’re dead. just this last time in our lives.

the inner wanted more from

the maybe.

the adult wanted to let it go.

astrology can be unreliable.

some things,

we’re not made to know.

What I Think We Should All Do


Recently I have been sort of sad. I think it might be because I’m not doing enough of the stuff I love.

I love writing poetry, talking to my friends, reading, and hiking. But I always let the cold weather and the internet get in my way. I think I need to unplug, and take a deep breath, and stand back, and enjoy the view. I need to live my life while I still have the vitality to live it, and the time. I should stop worrying about things like the future and the past unless I really need to. I should stop worrying about the people and the places unless I need to.I must learn to tell myself, there will always be another chance, but also to realize there may never me another chance. I need to give hugs and be hugs. I need to be and do what I love.

I propose that all people go out there and do something they love to do for as long as they possibly can. Something simple, like laughing, or smiling, or breathing. Something simple can lead to pure, healthy happiness. I think we should all do what we love, and do it more.

Ciao for now,

Mikki