Thursday, June 30, 2005

Sum of the Parts Equal the Whole




















Under the sun of a New Orleans heat
Waiting, watching, anticipating
Excitement moves into motion
Music they speak

They gather their instruments ready to play
She stands in the middle of the street
Moving with the pulse of time
Music they speak

Paused on our travel down the road
The music has pulled us in
She begins to dance
Music they speak

Wine and comfort food for our ears
Getting lost in a world of motion
Becoming part of something
Music they speak


Unborn baby she carries to the sound
Moving to the rhythm with ease
Not Mozart but a New Orleans beat
Music they speak

Taught the soul of the street
The beginning of time to the end
Mother infusing music to a child
Music they speak

She dances and we see the music
She dances embracing her baby
She dances while rubbing her tummy

Music they speak
Music they speak

Smiles pass through the crowd
A beat causes some to bob
Few push their way through lost
Music they speak

Sound enriched by street acoustics
Talent given by grace
Performance for the people by the people
Music they speak

Uninterrupted by passing cars
Music carried forward by passion
Heat passing by the coolness of the evening
Music they speak

Working performers, a box moves to the crowd
"Put it in the box" she says
"They ain't tap dancers" she completes
Music they speak

Dollars fill the box
They play on
Music fills the street
Music they speak

She dances and we see the music
She dances embracing her baby
She dances while rubbing her tummy

Music they speak
Music they speak

Monday, June 27, 2005

Propaganda

"Very Chilling Details" opening passage to the hand-off
Dramatic in tone, poised for the best angle
Reels of tape coverage mark our history
Actors, choreographers, money makers, yes very chilling indeed

Death and disaster ripping out our hearts
Scenes of pain splattered across the screen
Hopelessness and tainted lines never crossed
But sunny in Florida, how is that weather for you

Tele-prompted lines fed by political-prompted stories
One hand of the beast serving the other
Both convincing the head that it is just in action
No check point, no return, just a following of the masses

Channel two channel thirteen and all in between
With the sound on or off the words meaningless
Real stories are not told on the five or the ten
But in documentaries shown for the few and unrecognized

Over emphasized and quietly snuck in between
Spin a story get us ready for the next thing
Bigger the wheels turn fed by greed
Media, the media, yes very chilling indeed

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Questions



Six years old not understanding social implications of asking the truth, turns to me with what is on her mind. "Do you have sex?" she ask, as she would ask what the weather is expected to be for the day. Me, just going along for the ride in her world, driving her to the next destination where she takes on her day to day task of exploration. Me, the one who believes the body is a beautiful thing and sharing that beauty is a human treat. I am not ashamed of my choices, I celebrate them. I do not hide under the don't ask don't tell policy of our grandparents. It is a wonderful thing to be able to enjoy and express to someone you care about.

But there her big brown eyes were looking to me for all these answers, and I say to her "yes". That is what I said, nothing more. She pauses and takes it in as if that was the first lick of an ice-cream cone on a hot summer day. Without missing a step in time, she ask, "With who?". My drive became a destination of completion, could I finish and drop her off before I had to finish answering this new line of inquisitions? The road was long, and I had just began the journey. I had to figure out a way to navigate through the years of questions that follow this one.

The belief system I want to pass to her is to always at the core of your being know that you have the truth. It is the basis for being real. It is all I can give her in this world. But here I was at the cross-roads of truth. I won't give her anything less then the truth, but I cannot give the full detailed answer to this question because it would effect more then just her and I, there was others to consider. I have to teach her to understand that the answer to that question may compromise someone else's ability to chose their own path and journey. I was facing the core element of truth, when is it too much?

Almost reaching the end point it was time to stand for what I thought was best. I turned to her and said, "That answer is my business, but I will tell you that your Daddy and I did have sex a long while ago and that is how we create our beautiful little girl, you".

Time will tell if I chose right.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Uncovered


Maybe they didn't connect on a deep level, or share the same sense of humor but they had something ... they had loyalty. They were there for each other when times were tough, or just when someone needed a shoulder to cry on, they had loyalty.

How do you survive when the one thing you thought you had slips through your fingertips as easily as sand? How do you maintain a sense of self, when your judgment is shattered? How do you start again without carrying bitter baggage?

This is the unconscious pattern I have grown up with, that behind the curtain is a wizard in which you cannot trust. He says things of beautiful magic and controls the whole show, but that is the performance that he himself most believes. The rest of us now sit and watch the show, but know deep down that it all ends when the curtain falls.

I don't want to believe what I have been shown all my life, I want to lose myself in a river of just being "real". The good, bad and ugly of being truthful to not only one's self, but those you care and love for. I want to believe in the possibility of building a relationship based on truth.

Fighting for just "being real".

Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Track 8

Driving. Listening to a song that I had heard a hundred times before, but it hit me. This is it, the lyrics, the meaning -- it is exactly how I feel. Put into words what is running through me.

I don't want to look around
And be turned to stone
All my darkest days awoken
I'm looking for a new way
Can't make it on my own
Lead me to a place wide open

I need a love that takes me higher
So high I'm never coming down

I don't want to know emptiness
Take me down to the water
Wanna be baptized in your love

Far away from the loneliness
Take my heart and wash away the fear
Let me be baptized in your love

Everybody's going down
They end up all alone
Far too many words unspoken
I know I gotta be there
I'm ready to be shown
The path of righteousness unbroken

I need a love that takes me higher
So high I'm never coming down

I don't want to know emptiness
Take me down to the water
Wanna be baptized in your love

Far away from the loneliness
Take my heart and wash away the fear
Let me be baptized in your love

I would be a fool to let you go
With you I'm reborn
I'm no longer torn
Yeah
I refuse to lose my heart and soul
I have to be strong

I don't want to know emptiness
Take me down to the water
Wanna be baptized in your love

Far away from the loneliness
Take my heart and wash away the fear
Let me be baptized in your love

Baptized, baptized
Wanna be baptized in your love

I don't want to know emptiness
Take me down to the water
Wanna be baptized in your love (wanna be...)

Far away from the loneliness
Take my heart and wash away the fear
Wanna be baptized in your love

I don't want to know emptiness
Take me down to the water
Wanna be baptized in your love

Far away from the loneliness
Take my heart and wash away the fear
Wanna be baptized in your love
Baptized by Lenny Kravitz

Tuesday, June 14, 2005

It Felt Wrong

Wrong, to be all alone without his arms around me
Left to meander through the day lost in restless thought
Contemplating meaning of words said and unsaid
Reaching for an answer or just the way to get by

Wrong, to not be able to wake up next to him with a simple “good morning”
Unable to sip morning coffee across from each other under the sun
Without his hand holding mine as we strolled down the street
Yearning to see his smile just because it made him happy

Wrong, to not get silly drunk together and giggle through the night
Not to watch the people amuse us as they perform for the world
Thinking of all the memories we are creating right at that moment
Dancing in a crowded bar but only being with just each other

Wrong
wrong
wrong.
Wrong to be without
Wrong to have to wait
Wrong
wrong
wrong.

Monday, June 13, 2005

Doors

doorsI look and I see doors. Some are old and tired having seen lots of life pass them by. Freshly painted doors to cover old injuries. Replaced doors, and newly built doors. Iron doors that allow a vision through yet not passage. Glass doors that crystallize the scene from beyond. Heavy doors that are beyond strength to move. Doors that have been left partially open inviting in. Tall luminous doors taking a bigger then life presence. Doors that are just existing. Fancy doors well taken care of glittering in the sun.

Doors.

Closing doors in life to end a story. Sometimes locking it just to make sure that it is never visited again. Opening new doors, not knowing what is on the other side. Running past other doors, and sometimes just standing for days staring at a door. Grasping the door knob and slowly turning, or too scared to turn it at all. Flinging open doors and rushing in not caring or worrying why. Holding someone's hand as they open or close their door. Looking back at a door and really walking away. Sitting on the door step unable to leave. Immovable doors that you crash into in a last attempt. Doors that never close no matter how hard you pull.

My door.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

It Doesn't Hurt

Pain is Love
Pain Is Love

Writhing in pain of a fresh wound to see the red color bleed down the smooth tones of the flesh, the tears that flow down and the sounds of pain echoing in the emptiness of time. Vivid, real.

Yet I look at my body and there is no wound to see, nothing hurts and there is no band-aids healing old pain. I am full and well and able to move freely. My arms are able to reach and my hands to grasp life. My legs move me forward and my feet keep me stable so I don't fall. I am well.

I wonder if there is not pain, is it not real? Can love be complete and whole without working through pain and healing? Can it just be pure and good? Can we rethink our learned patterns and create harmony on the first attempt?

Standing on a plane of perfect equilibrium, enjoying the space I am occupying.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Come With Me

I'll giggle in the background while you call into work with your made up illness all the time smiling through the attempt at convincing them you are out for the day. I will grab a bag and fill it with our favorite CDs and mango fruit.

As we playfully kiss one another as we fill up the tank with gas, our minds will race to an escape from the humdrum of our ordinary lives. I will buy ice cold tea and a pack of tic-tacs just so that I can share with you this time. Leaving town and turning off the cell phones will be our final to-do item.

Onward towards small towns filled with old timers and their life stories. We will stop at all the tourist traps and take silly pictures of us. I will take a pen and note "I love you" on your hand. We will ask perfect strangers to capture a once in a lifetime moment on film. We will laugh when we say we are from Rhode Island instead of home.

The day will end and we will return to normalcy. We will return to our obligations and our many task-list. We will pay the bills and feed the children and getting ready for another day of work. Each one walking their path in life.

But for a moment, even just one moment, we were in the moment.



Wednesday, June 01, 2005

Dirt

Have you ever stopped to think that if you had not walked the road you had that you could not step forward on the path you are on?

Recently I have experienced a deep amount of pain at the loss of those I had spent my whole life trying to get close to. They were taken from life without consideration for those left to try and comprehend the greater meaning of it.

Pain in the rawest form, left with no explanation of why. No amount of rehearsed speeches or comforting embraces can lessen the pain that lingers. There is no greater distaste for knowledge then that forced upon you during life's weakness.

I have sat inside a church during the impressionist years of my adolescence to hear that there is greater purpose, and the twice told sermon of salvation and it's answer to all of life's unanswered questions of "why". It was pacifying when life was easy and required little information for happiness. Looking back, I can see how it laid the path for my quest of spirituality now.

Now I desire to unearth what moves human emotion. I want to grasp it at the root to touch and feel the grittiness of truth.

This is my quest.



Underneath