I can’t believe how the sacred finds me. How the sacred colored hues of the earth and the sky peel towards me like an entire history written and rewritten without words. I can’t believe the stretch of ocean beneath my feet. The rattle claw lobster head of the cloud jetty that is seizing towards me on the horizon — the endless sacred unfolding that twirls around in a circle with the rotation of the earth, not forwards on some blind, human line. It goes around on an axis, the wheel of this life, you silly thing. Not a linear line. We need more strange shapes to our stories, words, conscious expressions. We need more of that place beyond the words. We need more of the indescribable color of the history of the world sitting on the horizon each night at sunset. Those answers. Those answerless answers which hug the mystery tight and see the words written right in front of our faces. We need more recognition that we created our language – arbitrary, pulling sounds out of the wind and the way our mouth shaped against the air that bounced off the rocks around us. We need more acquiescence to the rhythm of bottomless song.
The landforms carve out of the ocean like a ribbon of dotted wishes along the coast. The keys play out of tune and in all the right places. The keys peel off from their country like a beautiful array of fuck yous – a tidy sum of rainbows distancing themselves from the madness of the motherland. The everlasting wind blows taffy hair all about the island – purpled and pinked pops of truffula flowers announcing themselves on the street corners. The wild roosters knowing no bounds. the freedom of the island is implicit – it sinks into the smoke-filled bars, bras and dollar bills affixed haphazardly to the ceiling and walls like a wayward bridge to the endless horizon. Something sacred hangs in the sub-tropical abandon ; in the hard liquor and white, angling 2nd story porches. the pastel creams and lilac shutters flutter in the wind like a wild, peaceful fever ;; the coral bones and chunks of sunken ship debris ; a rebel patch of land floating away from its rebel of a country ;; the half spun dream melody of a twisting madness or a bobbing wonderland
the mythology of treasure, of great men writing in rowdy dive bars, of mermaids and horror stories ; of key lime sweetness and rainbow revelry ;
the heart that tears at the seams;; peels and purges itself — the heart that batters the rain, weathers the veins of the earth, peers through every open ventricle – vehicular everything;; finely tuned manner of mannerless measurements towards the manic love of living — with fresh air and fresh dirt beneath me
but you, everlastingly in front of me — the pain of the sidewalk everlastingly spreading in all directions
Of course, she says,
No other way could this possibly have ended
No other way could my heart feel the bitter taste of regret so violently
Other than you dropping the phone at the end of the line,, an endless plastic line of webbing drawing all of the fools to the table
You didn’t do anything wrong, you say; I say
I capsized first you, drawing the end of the life raft towards you like a blanket — I always knew I say;; your words tip like the finality of a star feeding itself with its own fire — the metaphors are strong here, the words are weak; the magnetic force is quantum;; neverending and pink
Of course, my heart would butterchurn and evaporate at the sound of your footsteps walking away- how could I never not always know that? Of course, my mind would splinter cell and cut all the corners ;; how could that not be laced into my DNA?
And this trauma too – will it too be laced into my DNA? Passed down the endless line? When do the chromosomes bend back in armor and fold over in rebellion- new patterns and arrangements the strongest fight there is;; when does it wash out?
adjust to the adjustment of justice never sitting just with you // with the world strung out like a lullaby in reverse ;; with the fire of indecision sitting like a bullfrog in your stomach – croaking out of key and at all the wrong moments / acknowledge the restless build-up inside your intestines, how the sky plays with the lid of the brain – tipping off the top, ripping off the rot — pulling you towards that longing of satisfaction – of the life that makes sense, of the life that equates out in all directions.
things don’t necessarily equate anymore — add up, ring out, roll up into the same tiny sleeping bag case in came in. the numbers don’t equal anything at all. i’m not lost or losing, just on the underside of a chaos of addition. how to get from a to b to c is nowhere in the alphabet anymore, nor do i even know what letter i am racing towards. but i keep racing. and i keep walking. and i keep dancing. i keep dancing towards pools of light and the love that pills in and out of them. i keep dancing towards the alphabet and the hope of making a word that can be read. i try to remind myself what it is i am trying to build. i try to understand what it is I am trying to build, for that matter. i flood towards the light and hope my moth wings turn into butterfly’s wings. or hope that i am contented enough to be a moth.
what height, what height this light comes streaming through the window, the full-bodied pulse of the collapse of ego; the golden light of the winter day peeling through the atmosphere – the surface of my brain a foggy chapter of promises and gifts – the love i have to give like an army in my chest, ready to march — i, a small winter bottle of light and branches — sky, just let me see the sky — love, just let me feel my heart inside my body;; pumping blood, like so many fangs of the sky tilting forwards – reaching towards clouds, towards the flesh of the air made manifest in me — i, a little buzz of love;; i, a little question never knowing the answer;; i, a foolish warrior endlessly rowing ashore, towards the hope i am not forever blind
maybe there isn’t anything definitive – just balls of light and energy and what you make of them and may be all we are given is the gift of light between bodies and then you can contort it and shape it and work on the work of evolving and speaking the right words into existence and letting your words be magic // words shape your consciousness your perspective ;; perhaps we are all just consciousness and perspective and that little tiny neuron battle that we fight to choose the right choice is the whole of our life and it’s in the minucia; it’s in meditation; it’s in letting go; in the small, small choices we make on a daily basis; on a minute by minute basis; and yet somehow there are no choices at all and love is a force of light pushing forwards and near and quarks and gravity and strong and weak electromagnetic forces and pulling things and we pull through them and that is all really that fate or God is – just these forces pulling on and around and through and we go through them and push upon then; we are acted upon by them; we are part and parcel of it; We are the universe perceiving itself // and yet we have inertia; we have momentum; we have will; we can do better; we can evolve; we can make the better choices every day; minute by minute, minucia by minucia – we can change the world with our consciousness – because we are consciousness – we are gratitude, grace; what we give, what we forgive, what we let go of, the way we perceive and the way we allow ourselves to change;; perceptions are the mind and we are also not just the mind -we are the mind and the body connection and we are the forces; the balls of light
there are no choices;; there is no right path; there is just a path unfolding / there is no wrong choice you can make; there is just what is presented to you and what you can learn from it and how you can grow from it; you can challenge yourself; and somehow when I really pay attention I am always being given something that I really truly need to learn (sometimes it’s chaos) and sometimes it’s clear in front of me and sometimes it is wild and clouded; sometimes the path towards growing up and growing outwards ; towards evolving and towards being your best self is a complicated jagged one that doesn’t make sense until it makes sense;; sometimes the path towards your life is chaos and magic and confusion and mystery and sitting right in front of you (but all we perceive is the tiny steps we take) — and the mystery makes it all
and the mystery makes it all
and a new year. sacred day; sacred turning of the wheel for me.
to 2018. to west side story. a crusty old back room at the kelsey theatre. to san diego and seals on the shoreline of the pacific. to spring awakening and breaking my foot. to purple light washes and love. to the death of my grandfather and einsten. to ohio. to taking refuge. to our 10th anniversary. to may, glorious may. my birthday, my world full to the brim. to all my sons, langhorne little theatre and hair pin curls. to police in the late of night. to frendly gathering, nahko, vermont, roadtrips, june air, june bugs. to american idiot, and the crazy little room in the back of trenton social. to all the bursting of love, love, love. creation and chaos in the backroom. to august and adventures and upstate new york, and maryland and long island and more love. to growing and learning. to jamie turning 4. to death by chocolate. to the philly fringe festival. to september – back to school, class at princeton, performing spoken word. to curtains. music mountain theatre, lambertville, laughing with karl, dancing my ass off. to spain. birthday rainbow for halloween. to keeping jamie, protecting him, facing the dragon. to lion in winter. back to actorsnet, michael, matt, friendship, love, hardship, fighting through. to christmas, snuggled in a bed with my two brothers. new years, trouncing through the streets of philadelphia with old friends and new. to love, to love, to growth, to activity, to movement, to writing, to creation, to dancing, to acting, to giving, to receiving, to working on an inner practice, to making friends, to keeping friends, to loving the world, to the pain of the world, to the hope of the new day, the new year, the new possiblities. to changes and stability and ups and downs and ins and outs and the new, the new, the endless unfolding and rooting. to the rooting down, the growing out, the growing up, the learning in, the loving in all directions. the loving in all directions. to the light in all directions.
they were all here for a moment; for an elapsed, shoe-string collapsed moment – pulled between two parcels of stardust in the universe – family hung like a decadent ornamentation — laughter, brotherhood — not all of us, but the ones still ready to laugh // the day clung like taffy – elongated; elegant, hazy and covered in light – twinkled words, ageless tucked prayers to the moment hung under ever dazzled evergreen — evergreen, it was evergreen; golden hued and pearlescent // i love my family, i love the memory of everything we’ve ever been crashing in to one another over and over again;; i don’t know what i have done to deserve such a family : i don’t know what i have done to deserve so many useful parts clanging against one another in harmony — i know only that i am grateful and that my life should be a love song to this gratitude i have inside — to the wonder of magic that clings to every dappled bit of atomized oxygen around me // and jamie, the little ball of laughter and light, mopped with angel hair and giggling all through the night, dousing me in kisses and perfect words ; the grace of my life, the thing i am most grateful for — thank you for this day, for all of the days that have led to this day, for the year unfolding with unbelievably beautiful wings, for graciousness, for kindness, for care, for brotherhood, and for motherhood – a merry christmas to all, and to all – dappled haziness and the magic of love and how it feels pressed against your ribcage – to all ribcages opening endlessly – if only for a moment (a small, elapsed eternity)
like flame i catch disease; i catch bones in my eyes, i swallow heart for breakfast — like love i capsize on occasion;;
i try to find compassion for you, find the most human parts — i look past the brittle surface — i find the motivation for your movement, for your callousness and corrosive words — i look past the fudgey lines of the way we all present, the forms we all form in – i try to see the best in you, in each, in all
up and out and away – i hope for the glow of creation, for everyone, at all times / the past few weeks and months have reminded me of what i really want – love for the other, compassion, creation for everyone, self-actualization for everyone, and the manifestation of what sets us all alight, so that we may all glow – that we may all inspire one another, so that we can all create more beautiful, more meaningful things together. sure, it’s easy to call me too idealistic, but this is the one of the only things that truly matters – all becoming alive together – a world full of people that are fully alive and full of light and love
to building that world
my heart, it’s always about my little water wheel of a heart; little flutterby, caging wings and servicing kings; little wind chime chiming out of tune; little everythingbox containing more matter than could possibly matter to one person // little everythingheart i cannot be stopped; i thump towards the horizon; dragging myself through the wretched air and the branches that peel themselves from their leaves ;; bringing themselves solidly and singularly back to the surface of themselves – the utter indistinguishable truth of their barrenness – blank page on the sky’s horizon, aimless arrows in all directions — pointing everywhere, leading nowhere, aching endlessly — like my little heart, it’s always somehow a metaphor about my little heart
little gratefulness tune — i keep myself above the water, i take the high road, i ride the tumult of waves, i peel through your pressure, i promise myself the life without judgment of ridicule or mean-spiritness, i promise myself the higher light within shining, i glaze right past your glare ;; i love through the rotten air ;; i punish myself enough ;; i get stuck in my own head enough ;; i recognize my own mistakes, i pray endlessly to know my own faults better and with more veracity and honesty
and still the glow of eyes on eyes and words laying on top of words thrills my facile brain, still the pump and pummel of the stage curls my toes in my shoes and sends my spine serpentine and satiated — still i love the creation, the joy of meaning in words and the fullness of emotion in implication // still i love the full-bodied rapture of the thing, the way the body feels against all the motions, emotions, fabrics, wooden benches and handles of pewter // still i love the full-bodied rapture of the thing
if you have endured a great despair,
then you did it alone,
getting a transfusion from the fire,
picking the scabs off your heart,
then wringing it out like a sock.
Next, my kinsman, you powdered your sorrow,
you gave it a back rub
and then you covered it with a blanket
and after it had slept a while
it woke to the wings of the roses
and was transformed.”
and your rage like a fire in my throat; my twittering bird’s wings fluttering in the shade of your black temple. i stand, the firmament / you rattle the cage // the meanness of intention slicing through the atmosphere / daggers displacing gravity and the molecules in motion around me
i lean in to the friction of the light, the courage of boldness in my bones that reaches towards the higher self, towards the deeper love, towards the love we all must have for one another. i find that love never fails, in any human, body or blanket of cells / i reach towards friendship, towards the lust of reconnecting atoms flying away from one another in space / i reach towards breath, i reach towards myself / i find myself staring back at the end of my hand, myself, myself. you’re okay, bundle of atoms. i pray towards wholeness, towards people that lift other people up, towards finding the best in one another, in each other’s words, in each other’s intentions, i pray towards wholeness.
lift each other up
“They sang don’t waste your hate
Rather gather and create
Be of service, be a sensible person
Use your words and don’t be nervous
You can do this, you’ve got purpose
Find your medicine and use it”