1)
It’s time to go back,
or if anything,
now is the time to get back to it,
and by “it”,
I mean the source of my thrill
or the meaning behind my life.
Now.
There is nothing else and no one else,
and waiting on “when” never seems
to make anything happen, so . . .
since this is true,
then the fact
that now is the only pivotal moment
to propel me forward,
or hold me back,
is also true.
Now is the time to get back to it . . .
I found myself in the morning haze
of a gentle nostalgia,
thinking about the victory of the City
or the feel of coming across the 59th Street bridge,
young as ever or perhaps unforgivably so
or even intolerably so
and unapologetic about my drive
or my dreams.
I was thinking about the times before;
as in before the downfalls
or before the fights
or the unforeseen drama, to which
we all knew the writing was on the walls,
yet, I suppose, there was something in us
that screamed to take a shot,
even if we knew the shot would miss—like, hey,
to hell with it.
Let’s see what happens,
and then we did see what happened,
which changed us in a way,
or almost
irreversibly.
There was a time before the aftermaths
and a time before the jaded theories
and a time before the betrayals
or the exposure to humiliation
or a time before
some sort of bullied moment
where the crowd was against, instead of for;
but before this, there was a time
when hope was more alive
than the new morning sun.
There was a time
when our belief was as strong as the sun
on a beautiful summer morning,
just before the beaches opened,
and all was still quiet
but the heat was on its way.
There was a time when my footprints in the sand
and my moments at the shoreline
were seen differently
and they came with different sins to confess.
I was different from who I am now,
but this was my “before.”
This was before I lost
or before I found out that fairytales
are not exactly true
and before the heartbreak
and before the time I learned
that friends are not always friends forever
and that yes, life changes and
things go wrong and, of course,
good things happen to bad people
and bad things happen to the good ones.
It’s time though.
It’s time to get back to where I was,
or better,
it’s time to get back to my “before!”
2)
Ah, sunshine, you are more brilliant than you believe
and more than you know—and more than more,
you are more to me than a child
and more to me than a symbol
and even more,
you are more to me than a breath of fresh air.
You are beautiful
I see you, young as ever.
The entire world is ahead of you but
there is so much to learn
and so much that you will face.
I know this. . .
I would push a button, if I could,
or if it would help, and as I push,
the button could wipe away the simple tragic things
which, we see when we are young.
I wish that this button could exist
because I would push it twice,
or maybe even three times, or four,
or maybe I’d be like that impatient man,
anxious as ever and standing at the elevator,
and I would be that man
who keeps pushing the call button
to see if it makes the elevator come faster,
which of course—no,
it doesn’t make the elevator come faster but more,
this only satiates the nerves or the anxiety,
which worries that perhaps
something about the way “I” push the button
is say, less-than
or inefficient or insufficient,
as opposed to someone or anyone else,
when they push the button.
But still –
I would push the button,
if I could
or, if the button existed.
I know that I cannot control the world
or stop your falls
or pick you up all the time
or wipe every tear, but alas,
I can tell you these things,
with hopes that you see
that love follows you wherever you go—
The bees around the flower . . .
The Queen
The Princess.
The new sun, golden and shining
and climbing in the morning light.
I love this time of day because this is the moment before,
as in before the day begins
or before the world opens
and before the daily ideas take place,
like say,
the different worries
about dealing with different social atmospheres
and the basic insensitivity
to our needs and/or the life we want.
I have news,
which is simple and obvious.
No one ever asks to be challenged
or different or to have something obvious stand out,
yet somehow, you manage to walk
and smile and choose your own path,
which is braver than brave.
In fact, this is heroic.
I wish I could do more of this
for you.
I am humbled here and now
thinking about the consequences
which come when pride and ego
get in the way or how we say silly or stupid things,
just to win a fight, when meanwhile,
we forget about the ideas of collateral damage
or the innocent bystanders
we hurt because of the need to be right.
I don’t need to be right anymore,
just loved.
If I could, I would push a button
with hopes to wipe it all away—
the pain, or the worry
or the anxious ideas
that spin us out of control.
I would, if I could.
But I can’t.
So, instead, I will standby as a means of care
and protection—no matter how close or far,
I’m here
just in case I’m needed.
3)
There was a time when I would believe
and think that anything is possible.
And yes, there was a time when I was young
or when I hoped and ran and played and lived.
I was wild then. I was willing too.
Young
This was my before.
This is when I was happily uninvolved,
or at a minimum, this is when I was least involved
with you, Mr. Chaos.
There was a time when I was unafraid
and a time when I was eager and hopeful
and looking not for a savior
but to be a savior as well
or to be a builder, or to be strong and tough
or to be a creator,
or to dream and to write and to open my heart
and to scream at the top of my lungs,
and to dance around
or sing
or dare the odds
without concern.
There was a time when I would face the storm
and face the rage and face the pain and still be unmoved.
This was my before.
There was a time when I was unafraid
to love or share my love
or show my love and my willingness
and I would show this freely
and to be transparent, there was a time
before the first betrayal, when I was pure,
or before the first instance of humiliation
or shame or heartbreak; and yes,
there was a time before when I was good,
when I was hopeful,
when I had the get up and go
before it got up and went.
Now is the time to get back to it.
It’s time now.
Right now.
I have to go back to where I came from,
and to allow the full circle to take place,
which is this – the moment when I orbit back to my true self
or to my reason and purpose;
or,
now is the time to decide
to either be the hero of my esteem,
or give in,
and allow Chaos the rights to more of the same.
So, fuck you, Chaos.
You took enough from me.
It’s my turn
to take my life back.
Now . . .
The Written Addiction 