1)
There is an ongoing idea that stems from my youth
which is still as true now as it was to me then.
I have always been this – me
In the birth of our youth,
we are led to the steps to experience.
We find ourselves in the doorways of experiments
and learning, we grow,
we combine and compile our lessons.
We adapt and we move
We dress accordingly and, sometimes,
we smile the same way
We find ourselves in different directions.
Some say this is fate.
Some call this destiny
Cosmic, a movement; which
Such is life, according to plan.
I say life, as in this life,
but along the way
we change and we transform.
We “become”
Yes . . . this is exactly what we do.
We become us
We experience rebirth on a daily basis –
We see things, unexpectedly,
like a sudden passing through a doorway; and just like that
ah, we see something so amazing
and unforgettable –
Like she . . .
to me, which is of the most beautiful nature.
Amazing, she is
Like nothing else
Or,
Like nobody else
But I’m fine if I’m the only one to see this.
In fact, I’d rather see it this way.
She . . .
Or her
My love for the first time
She or her
to me
She is curves, either perfectly imperfect
or simply perfect to me; either way – she is mine.
Belonging, but not owning
not possessing
just . . .
belonging
She is the representation of what I call . . .
Desire.
She is everything
– A mystery
– A scene from a movie
– A chapter in a novel
– A word that I’ve heard since youth
it’s called love
Her life is one that has been caught in the moonstruck atmosphere,
which, to me, is unlike anything either you or I will ever see
She is unlike anyone I will ever see because, to me,
she is the answer to a long, withstanding equation
which had been unanswerable for too long until finally –
I saw her
She is the only cylinder which, for me,
Is the key to unlock the universe
She . . .
Soft as ever, wholesome, simple too,
Expressed in a look, as if to pose in a soft gaze,
looking upwards, innocent like a girl and still – all woman
I am in awe, struck, inspired,
insatiable because, of course,
I am hungry for this, for her
And love?
I know what this is yet
none of this is like anything I’ve known before
I say this because love defies us
Love does not listen yet my love hears every word.
Love does not obey yet
my love can do nothing else but follow my heart.
Love defies us
Love turns a blind eye
Love distract us – as if all the world could turn the lights out
and everything could go dark or stand still and
neither she nor I would notice until
after the act of when two become one.
“Did something happen?”
I don’t know.
My guess is it’s just the world.
But her?
Her love is the wind.
Her love is the breeze that moves through trees.
Her touch is the sun that warms my skin.
And she?
She is something which I could never deny
She is someone who my love could never defy
because if anything, to deny this would defy myself,
which I had tried to before –
to deny myself, that is.
I have these words which I’m sure you’ve heard before
“Afraid, unsure, unaware,” that my love is something of value.
We lose ourselves with these words.
We can be misguided by anticipation
or caught by the fear of loss
Or, we can find ourselves misplaced
missing in the fears that maybe something this big
or something which is so altogether
elusive to the rest of the world
(maybe?)
Maybe this is too frightening
because what if we try? What if we dare?
What if we love and we put everything on the line
and dammit all,
what if love does not come back in return?
I know. I lived like this for most of my life
Love is not fortunate to us all. I agree . . .
Love can disappear with doubt.
Love changes; it adapts, it alters and expands yet
love can flee or dissolve
or even evaporate if it is not quenched
by the need to keep our love alive.
But me?
I am alive.
I am aware
But more:
I understand that there is only one truth;
any variation of this truth is only opinion
which, if this were true, then my opinion is this –
My love cannot be undone.
I can not separate or get away from this,
nor can I get away from myself
and therefore, since this is true,
then it is also true that nothing and no one
could possibly separate me from this, My Love –
Her . . .
2)
Nothing can live in a vacuum . . .
Yet, nothing and no one could know what it’s like
to live in these tiny capsules
which I call my mental keepsakes
which I keep in my mind. sealed for protection.
These are only pictures,
only memories, only details that only I can see.
Clearly . . .
These are tiny glimpses of my history;
unedited, unblemished and more,
all of these are without buffers or filters
or manipulated for prosperity
to be more perfect
or pretty.
I have these tiny diaries in my heart,
which are here now, unfolding as we speak.
I am, in fact, an ongoing dialogue.
I am a constant conversation which has grown in my head.
I am a seeker. I am on a quest.
I am lost and found and missing and right here,
I am alive and in person.
I am all of this
I have depth which is beyond the simple perception
or more than what the naked eye can see.
I have different dimensions, volume, capacities,
aspects and features.
I am as simple as you
or as simple as any other complex life,
which we can find, right here on Project Earth.
I have gifts.
I have something to offer.
I have love to give
I have a smile to lend and a hand to hold yet –
For a long time, I was unsure of this.
I was unsure of everything because I was unsure of me
of course
I was unsure that what I had was enough. . .
I like that word
Enough; as in the degree or quantity that satisfies,
as in sufficient,
as in satisfactory or qualified –
As in perfect
Somewhere in the section of our minds
are the cobwebs called clutter – and me,
I had been cluttered and kept in the dark
I was trapped by my own gatekeeper for too long,
which is me.
Or, should I say that I had lived this way for so long
that I never dared to open the door,
not even a crack, until one day – I saw light.
I saw beams of light in shafts of pure soft heaven
and before opening my eyes;
I saw what it meant to dream.
I never dared to step out of this circle
I never dared to stay away from this cage
or to move beyond the idea that outside of this room
there is a life.
There’s light.
There’s an open door to a new way of living
All it takes . . .
. . . is just one step
and just like that . . .
. . . you can see again.
3)
My connection with my heart is not unlike anyone else.
No, I am real. I have all the qualities of man or human
or as someone alive, I am a person who has questioned myself.
I have questioned everything yet
I never realized that questions
can have a different direction
As if to say why . . .
. . . or better yet, why not?
When is it your turn?
When is it your moment?
When are you going to give yourself
the permission to be next – or
When are you going to decide
and allow yourself to be first?
I have seen fighters in circles who stand against their opponents.
The idea is to circle away from the opponent’s power hand –
this way, we can keep safe from the blows that come our way.
Circle left or circle right –
Circle away from your opponent’s dominant hand.
Don’t get hit in the chin;
otherwise, we run the risk of going down . . .
But us?
Hell, we run face first into the punches.
We block fists with our chin;
and I mean this in a life sense
Rather than circle away,
we circle towards the damage; but more,
we forget one important thing
It’s okay to be first
it’s okay to win
Don’t be afraid to be first.
Circle away, be first.
Most of all, don’t be afraid to win
It doesn’t matter if we lose . . .
So what?
We can’t hold ourselves too tightly
or keep us so wound up that, in the end,
we implode, we fold, we quiver in the face of the upcoming fight
We can’t live like this because
although I say this from the standpoint of peace,
somethings are worth fighting for.
And you . . . says the person to the mirror
You are more than worth the battle.
4)
This part will be the last part;
however, this part will be a piece of my heart.
This is all I have, packaged up,
and folded like the little notes we used to pass in school.
Remember those?
My heart is this – whether it is shaped the same as anyone else
or if my body is correct (so-to-speak)
or if my voice is that which means something to you;
I have come here to express something.
I have come here
to lay down my weapons of self-destruction.
I have put down my sword
My shield has become weak anyway so
I cast this to the side
I am removing myself from my shell,
or is it better to say “the shells”
which I have allowed to cover over me
as a means of protection.
I am removing myself from this,
from all that I’ve worn for the last five decades
because my legs are too weak to carry these things.
I am removing my harness and laying down my helmet.
I surrender my crown.
I surrender my stripes
I surrender my scars and the minds of battle wounds
I give up my outrage, my hate, my shame, my guilt
or the need to find fault
I do solemnly swear to forfeit my regret from this day onward
I surrender my gun
and my badge and my keys
which I used to keep my door locked at all times.
I don’t want to be tough anymore.
It doesn’t work.
Besides, the fights I had were always unwinnable
Perhaps, this was because the enemy was only within.
I surrender . . .
I surrender my image.
I surrender my need to keep myself guarded.
I surrender everything I have and more,
I surrender myself to you
Her . . .
She . . .
So, please hold out your hand
Are you ready?
– the little prince
pours out a tiny glowing orb into the palm of her hand
Take this, he says
This is all I have
I don’t have anything else
But please . . .
be gentle with this, okay?
Because without this –
I have nothing
without you
The Written Addiction 