Solitude

I am a single man - an individual -
undaunted by public displays of affection,
unshaken by the pairing and coupling of others.
These symbiotic relations have made them weak,
their freedoms restrained, their hearts softened.
Who needs that?

I can, at a whim, drive to nowhere
and gaze at the light of the stars,
observing the music of the heavens.
I would take in the awe and majesty
of the universe unfurled around me,
and know the meaning of life.

I can hike into the woods
and embrace the beauty of nature -
the sound of crunching leaves, the fires of autumn,
the soundscapes of brooks and creatures.
I would be one with the breath of the trees,
and know peace and solace.

I can lay on the warm sands of the beach
and listen to the rhythms of the rolling waves.
I would dig my toes into the sand,
feel the wind and sun on my face -
close my eyes, inhale deep,
and know relaxation.

I can stay in on a cold winter day
and bake a warm pie while sipping hot tea.
I would curl under a blanket on the couch,
watching the snow falling ever so gently.
I am content and satisfied,
as this is comfort.

I run on my own schedule,
my time is mine, my thoughts and actions are mine.
I need no reminding of the pairing and coupling
that defines the life-course of others.
I am a single man - an individual -
and I with nothing more than to share it with you.

Pandora's Hope

I've witnessed Pandora's Hope with my own eyes,
staring at its immortal form behind its mortal guise.
A blessing, a curse; making us toil long after the day is done,
pushing us harder through a battle that can't be won.
I can only guess at its motives and its reason
since its release from its God-wrought prison.

I have seen it visit you on the edge of death
as you lay gasping with each labored breath.
With your eyes tightly shut in silent pain,
Pandora's Hope burrows deep into your vein,
snaking its way from your arm to your heart
and leaving its eternal mark within your chart.

Defeated, futilely struggling, there you lay.
Can you even hear us and what we say?
Our words of strength reach not your ears,
in your unconscious darkness of pain and fears.
Lifeless are your feeble and atrophied limbs,
your vessel subject to Hope's every whim.

It's not your pain - your suffering - that Hope allays,
but rather our fears and insecurities that It keeps at bay.
And before we realized, before we even knew,
Hope, and Artifice, have crept their way into you.
Hollowed out, Pandora's Hope has made you its shell,
And all for us It traps you - here you dwell.

Let . . .

Breathe by ~theflickerees on deviantART

Come here, lay with me,
Inhaling our breathes
together
On this lazy summer day.

Let the sun
caress us
in its warm embrace,
Let the breeze
fill us
with the breath of life.

And we may gaze
at the clouds
And imagine
sweet dreams of tomorrow.

Let us enjoy this day
together;
Nothing to do,
Nowhere to go,
Just lounging around
in each other's company.

Let us close our eyes
and pretend,
Just for a moment,
That the world
stopped turning
And that time
gave pause.

That it is just
you and me -
Whoever you are,
Wherever you are,
Exhaling with me
the breath of yesterday.

Can't Outrun These Clouds

Can't Outrun These Clouds

Run, faster faster, no respite
no time to relax
no time to stop.

These clouds approach again,
but the umbra of their gloom
has already taken me.

Beat beat beat, my heart drums
as I can't outrun these clouds.
I thought I had escaped
I thought I could relax
I thought I could sleep.

No.
The clouds linger
and follow me still
even as I leave,
even as I'm gone.

I am weary and nearly broken.
I have toiled under this gloom -
under these clouds
too long, way too long.

I long for the sun
I long for the clarity of sky
I long for a chance to stop
I long for escape -
to get away, far away,
from it all.

But these clouds haunt me
even while I'm away.
I just can't seem
to outrun these clouds.
Soon they will overtake me
again . . .

Should I give up?
Just let these clouds
engulf my sky?
I just . . .
can't outrun these clouds.

Farewell "Overrated Integrity"

There were other things I was going to blog about but this takes precedence. Randy over at Overrated Integrity has posted his last post. His abrupt leave reminds me of a poem by Antonio Machado, "Proverbios y cantares XXIX" in Campos de Camstilla. Here is a translation below:

"Proverbs and Songs XXIX"

Traveler, your tracks are
the road, and nothing more;
traveler, there is no road,
one makes the road by walking.
By walking one makes the road,
and by glancing behind
one sees the path that never
will be stepped again.
Traveler, there is no road,
but wakes in the sea.

I hope that your journeys are safe, that your wanderings bring you enlightenment, that your path brings you closer to what you seek, and that your travels eventually bring you back to us. Wherever you are, wherever you go, don't forget us because we won't forget you.

I will not forget your final words on your blog:

"Never under any circumstances take your freedoms for granted, never under any circumstances trust those who say they do things for the better good, and never under any circumstances blindly accept a decision that you know deep down is wrong."

So Randy, take care, be safe, and I hope we meet again.

To Razz - Words Unsaid

I was a "late-comer" to Razz's blog, Doin me head in. I knew him less well than many other bloggers. While I read every post and every post is still stored in my Google Reader, I never had the honor of chatting with him online or via email.

There are words unsaid - by me and by others. And Razz, I found the following poem you wrote (posted on Oct. 12, 2008) - I hope you don't mind that I re-post it as well as the pics:

-----
Words Unsaid

I had a million thoughts running through my head
thinking about all the words we left unsaid
somewhere in the middle of horizon's end
I'm standing all alone while my heart endlessly bled.

All the thoughts of heaven are hanging on me tonight
while the beautiful hour is nearing its final end.
Now alone with my pain and ghostly regrets
the only words left - are the words unsaid.

There's a part of us that is bound forever
by the feelings we shared every time we kissed
like a leaf swept upwards by the horizon's wind
I am floating, rising higher, much higher than I've ever been.

But now you're gone enwrapped by hypnotic grace
I fall away from you, on this rock, that's become my place
cursing life, repenting, regretting with every tear I shed
to my soul 'tis my prison I share with words left unsaid.
-----
I don't know who you wrote that poem for - if you wrote it for anyone in particular at all - but I can say that there are many words left unsaid by all of us. I would like to say that I admired your spirit and the life you infused into your posts. It lingers within, we can still feel your living words. Through your blog you have opened a window to your world, and you have touched and influenced the lives of so many. Can you even count them all? Let me show you (though inevitably I've missed a few):

AJ: Goodbye Razz
Col: Farewell to Razz!
Doug: Razz
E: Razz, Remembered
goleftatthefork: Remembrance
Highwayman: Remembering a Brother Blogger
Jay.osa: To a friend lost
Ken: comfort ............ for Chris
Lunatic Ninja: Doin' Me Head In
Naturgesetz: Razz; In Memoriam: Razz
Seth: Loss of Fellow Blogger...
Sethy: It's always a sad thing
Shane: Thank you and goodbye Razz
Steevo: Fond Farewell to Razz
Torchy!: Remembering Razz

I hope one day I will feel I've lived the perfect life as you described it. And as you said in this post, "[W]hatever is beyond death, may we all get the version that we wish for." May your ashes be scattered to the winds in the places most dear to you and your family and close friends.

Farewell Razz (Chris), you are never forgotten. March 26, 2009.
In Memory Of Razz

A Breath of Our Inspiration

I didn't have a Thanksgiving post (obviously). I don't know if anyone missed me in my week's absence, somehow I doubt it. First, I'd like to direct people to AJ's and Matt's blogs, to give them words of encouragement and love and all that in this time.

I came across the following poem again, and it was, as a line in there, "A breath of our inspiration." There are powerful words in that poem, words of inspiration and change. That we can all be an agent of change. That we are the shapers of our collective future. I know not everyone's fond of poetry, but it's a good read. Enjoy.

-----

Ode
by Arthur O'Shaughnessy (1844 - 1881)


We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea-breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams; --
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Of the world for ever, it seems.

With wonderful deathless ditties
We build up the world's great cities,
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an empire's glory:
One man with a dream, at pleasure,
Shall go forth and conquer a crown;
And three with a new song's measure
Can trample a kingdom down.

We, in the ages lying,
In the buried past of the earth,
Built Nineveth with our sighing,
And Babel itself in our mirth;
And o'erthrew them with prophesying
To the old of the new world's worth;
For each age is a dream that is dying,
Or one that is coming to birth.

A breath of our inspiration
Is the life of each generation;
A wondrous thing of our dreaming
Unearthly, impossible seeming --
The soldier, the king, and the peasant
Are working together in one,
Till our dream shall become their present,
And their work in the world be done.

They had no vision amazing
Of the goodly house they are raising;
They had no divine foreshadowing
Of the land to which they are going:
But on one man's soul it hath broken,
A light that doth not depart;
And his look, or a word he hath spoken,
Wrought flame in another man's heart.

And therefore to-day is thrilling
With a past day's late fulfilling;
And the multitudes are enlisted
In the faith that their fathers resisted,
And, scorning the dream of to-morrow,
Are bringing to pass, as they may,
In the world, for its joy or its sorrow,
The dream that was scorned yesterday.

But we, with our dreaming and singing,
Ceaseless and sorrowless we!
The glory about us clinging
Of the glorious futures we see,
Our souls with high music ringing:
O men! It must ever be
That we dwell, in our dreaming and singing,
A little apart from ye.

For we are afar with the dawning
And the suns that are not yet high,
And out of the infinite morning
Intrepid you hear us cry --
How, spite of your human scorning,
Once more God's future draws nigh,
And already goes forth the warning
That ye of the past must die.

Great hail! We cry to the comers
From the dazzling unknown shore;
Bring us hither your sun and your summers;
And renew our world as of yore;
You shall teach us your song's new numbers,
And things we dreamed not before:
Yea, in spite of a dreamer who slumbers,
And a singer who sings no more.

Found at this link.
-----

---TANGENT---
Okay, so I seem to have this ever-growing list of blogs I intend on reading and then linking to my blog. I will work on that . . . once I'm done with my term paper and exams and have nothing to do over Winter Break (in about 3 weeks). I also need to go through all the blogs and sort them out over Winter Break (I have WAY too many links, and they just keep increasing). In the mean time, I'd like to link to these 3 blogs that I managed to catch up on:

Call The Shots
The Covert Homo
This is my life...

So go over and say "Hi," among other nice things. :D
---END TANGENT---

The Only

Couldn't concentrate last night on studying for my exam tomorrow, felt a bit down. Wrote this poem instead in half an hour. Somehow the words are stronger and have more meaning in Chinese. Some of it is lost in translation, I'm sure. Below is the poem in Chinese, atonal pinyin, and English. I may explain it later.

-----
惟一

你还记得我吗？
你还认识我吗?
我是你的什么？
只是一个朋友。
看不到我，
听不到我。
你不知道，
不知道我的病。
我的胸口压着，
我的心手抓着，
可是脸不感觉。
没有气能呼吸，
没有眼泪能哭。
只有我一个人，
没有第二个人，
永远像这样吗？
我请你看着我，
听着我，记得我，
认识我，知道我。。
我不能只是我一个人。

-----
(wei yi)

(ni hai ji de wo ma?)
(ni hai ren shi wo ma?)
(wo shi ni de shen me?)
(zhi shi yi ge peng you.)
(kan bu dao wo,)
(ting bu dao wo,)
(ni bu zhi dao,)
(bu zhi dao wo de bing.)
(wo de xiong kou ya zhe,)
(wo de xin shou zua zhe,)
(ke shi lian bu gan dong.)
(mei you qi neng hu xi,)
(mei you yan lei neng ku.)
(zhi you wo yi ge ren,)
(mei you di er ge ren,)
(yong yuan xiang zhi yang ma?)
(wo qing ni kan zhe wo,)
(ting zhe wo, ji de wo,)
(ren shi wo, zhi dao wo.)
(wo bu neng zhi shi wo yi ge ren.)

-----
The Only

Do you remember me?
Do you recognize me?
What am I to you?
Just a friend.
You don't see me,
don't hear me.
You don't know,
don't know my pain.
There's a pressure on my chest,
there's a hand grasping my heart,
but my face is unmoved - emotionless.
There is no air I can breathe,
no tears I can cry.
There is only me,
there is no other person.
Will it always be like this?
I ask you to look at me,
hear me, remember me,
recognize me, know me.
I can't be just me anymore.

Picture from here.

Mask of the Poet

Many years ago, in middle and high school, I had a mask - the Mask of the Poet. I wrote quite a number of poems (not all of them good), and I exercised fairly poetic writing even in my essays and papers. Poetry was like music with words on the page - it was elegant, beautiful, flowing. I enjoyed it thoroughly and it was one of several outlets for the many things floating in my brain (I cannot emphasize the word "many") that would've been either bottled up or forgotten.

Since then, this Mask has slowly "cracked" over the years from disuse. There was a time when rhyme and meter almost came effortlessly to me, but not so now. This isn't all bad, as there's a lot of great poetry without either of those. Recently I wrote two poems, lingering shadows of this Mask.
-----
Pandora's Gift

The great sins of our species haunt us,
The ghosts of history taunt us.
Yet while I breathe, while I live,
I cling to Pandora's final gift.

The lid was not tightly closed . . .
It whispers in our ears and dwells in our hearts.
Against all the evils that plague us,
It lets us taste redemption.

Its voice rings clear in the dark -
Words of encouragement,
Words of empowerment,
Words of unyielding optimism:

Let laughter dry the tears we've shed,
Let mercy heal the wounds we've bled,
Let love give birth to new life,
Let hope be the refutation of our sins.

Unless darkness consumes us all,
Unless light cannot penetrate the shadows,
I will cling to Pandora's final gift -
I cling to Hope.


In This I Believe

I believe we're meant to be imperfect,
That the Forms¹ are mere illusions.
I believe the best of us can still fall,
And the worst of us can be redeemed.

I believe the more humanity progresses,
The more we're mired in our past;
But hope drives us to escape,
And in this we see reflected truths.

I believe that while fists are strong,
Words are stronger than fists,
Hugs are stronger than words,
And laughter is stronger than all.

I believe that life is an unending cycle,
Where we search for who we are,
And only after reaching Enlightenment
Can we then return to humanity².

I believe in circles:
That what once was will be again,
That what is will repeat in time,
And only change is unchanging.

I believe "You must be the change
You wish to see in the world³."
I believe fate is ours to mold.
I believe in those most dear to me.

In this, I believe . . .

Notes
1. Plato's Forms represent the true perfect and unchanging versions of worldly physical objects or ideas.
2. Refers to the 9th and 10th pictures in the Buddhist "Ten Oxherding Pictures" (also called "Taming the Ox") by Kakuan, from 12th-century China. The 9th picture is completely blank, representing one transcending the self and reaching Enlightenment. But in the 10th picture, one then returns to humanity to teach Enlightenment.
3. "You must be the change you wish to see in the world" is a quote by Mahatma Gandhi.
-----
Etched remnants of what once was there . . . enjoy. Oh yeah, I finally added Closet NS to the blogs I read because I finally got around to reading his entire blog up to date. Hurray!