51)
I got bit by a hint of nostalgia last night,
and like a bug bite
that got me just before bedtime
I was hit by an itch
that my mind kept scratching,
over and over again
until now.
It is not beyond me to wish
that I was young again
or to think back
about the days of way back
or about how I was young once too
and how I howled out loud with the boys
or rode the night until the sun.
It is not out of my reach to remember
the stories and old memories
nor is it beyond me to shake my head
or shake my fists, or shake myself
from the recollections
and then wonder,
“How the hell did I ever make it out alive?”
Somehow,
I guess . . .
It is nothing more than a flashback
but even in the violence of the moment
or even more,
even while lost in the recollection
of tumultuous times,
even when I look back
at the times of insanity
or when my mind turns back the clock
and I revisit myself at a time where my life raged
in the outrage of awareness;
or even at the dawns
where I found my awakenings,
born beneath the colors of a new sun,
and thus,
even when I came to the understanding
or awoke to the realization
that days like these are limited
to a small and precious few;
or even when I was quiet or alone,
or when I was otherwise away from the crowd
and away from the social draws
and far away from the different divisions of cool;
it is not beyond me to remember
the sentiments, nor is it out of the question
to rethink or to re-feel, even the sadness
or the solace, nor is it out of this world
to think back about the mornings
when all were sleeping,
and I was awake,
thinking about you or when you would come to me,
and there I sat, awake and witness
to the rebirth of the sun.
52)
And love?
Love is a thought.
Love is a feeling.
Love is an action.
Love is all of this and more
and all in,
love is like a hand at a card game
to us, the gamblers of the world.
I see love as a living, breathing thing,
and yes, I say love is alive.
Sometimes, love is barely breathing.
Sometimes, love is alive and well,
and sometimes, there are moments
when love is lonely,
but rest assured that love
is the bravest and most daring
of all things that we encounter in this lifetime.
Love is cosmic and deliberate,
much like the moon’s orbit
around the earth
and the earth’s orbit around the sun,
and somehow,
there is something intentional
about this, or us.
There is something about us
that is no different
from the intentions of the universe
and just like an intentional meeting
or random placement out of nowhere
whereas—there she is,
alive and in person
the person you love,
intentionally walking through
the door
and into your life.
Amazing . . .
I have been told
that there is no reason
to regret the past because the past
had every intention
of leading me to where I am now,
which is here, of course,
with you.
And now, wondering above all,
or weaving through this world,
without knowing which way to go
or without knowing what to do
or how, somehow,
same as the moon knows which way to go,
and same as its been going the same way
for as long as the moon has been around
somehow, I know too . . .
I know that you and I
will have our times
and our bouts
and worries
and moments of peril
and passion,
and while nothing in life remains perfect
or pristine,
love learns how to perfect itself
and place us wherever it is
that we need to be.
We just have to believe.
53)
I go back to the music
or to the sounds of youth
or the songs
which I was brought up with
and how they play,
or how they seem to
rewind the mind
or play back the memories
and bring on the rush
of nostalgia.
I have always had this thing
for rooftops.
Even as a young and rebellious teen,
the rooftops and I, and the music I played –
we have a thing,
which is meaningful
to me.
I like being up above the world
with a different view,
I like looking down
and seeing how life moves
or rushes, or at nighttime
when all is silent,
I like watching the world
slow down to a crawl,
or likewise
when it rains,
and all run for cover with, of course,
the only exception of speeding taxis
splashing down Lexington
and driving in their yellow, kamikaze cabs
dead-center in the middle of a downpour
in New York City,
and there,
out of nowhere,
I am reminded of when Jim Carroll wrote,
“The City is on my side.”
I am a fan of the silent romantic
and the rebel, all in one.
We do not live in a life
where one size fits all.
We live in a world during a time
when fate does its trick
and destiny knows the way to go
just like the earth
knows its way around the sun.
There is no way
that any of this is “just” and accident
and even in the downfalls of Rome,
somewhere, somehow, there is
and there will always be
the greatest rebuild
and the greatest comeback of all times.
However, life and love
are both living and breathing things,
which means care for them please –
Otherwise,
the outcome is unfortunate,
So, to you, my dearest, most special
and beautiful love—
We’ve both anteed up
and we’ve both gambled before,
but this is all I have
and all of my cards
are on the table; therefore,
I am all in.
But what about you?
54)
I was bit pretty hard last night.
I was bit by the bug of nostalgia
and bit by the memories
of the life
that I missed.
I missed the dance of a lifetime.
Or better,
I missed the chance of a lifetime
and while I am not young anymore,
I am not so old or beaten
that I am not ready to take a chance
and risk it all, or throw down
one more time.
I want to go at it,
just to have a night with you,
say, on a rooftop somewhere,
alone, with music
and while I can never be young again,
at least now,
I am old enough to know
how to take my time,
to move a little slower after the time
to my faster is gone,
and now that I know what I missed,
trust me, if given the chance
I will dance at the drop of a hat,
just to hold you,
like I wish I did
when we were young.
55)
It’s funny to me . . .
No, it’s crazy, in fact
how an old song can come on
and out of nowhere
even if the music
or the genre
wasn’t mine,
somehow, a song comes on
and reminds me
of what I wanted my love to be.
I heard something last night –
Remember Selena?
“Late at night when all the world
is sleeping,
I stay up and think of you.”
That was me.
I swear,
there was a time
when I would never admit
to any of this to anyone,
but I am now, admitting to this,
to you.
I don’t want to be young again.
I don’t want to change my yesterdays
but instead,
I’m ready to trade them in
for as many tomorrows
as the world will allow me.
You see,
I just don’t want to miss the chance
to live, love, laugh and learn
or to dance with you for as long as I can.
That is, of course,
if you wouldn’t mind
dancing with me
and if you wouldn’t . . .
then please,
show me your cards
and I will show you mine
and together
we can make the rest of the world
weep with envy
because look around us
and you’ll see,
no one ever
had the chance to dance
quite like us.
Or, at least so
I dream. . .
The Written Addiction 