change

is amazing.

Implosions -- adrienne rich

[the world's
not wanton
only wild and wavering

i wanted to choose words that even you
would have to be changed by

take the word
of my pulse, loving and ordinary
send out your signals, hoist
your dark scribbled flaws
but take
my hand

all wars are useless to the dead

my hands are knotted in the rope
and i cannot sound the bell

my hands are frozen to the switch
and i cannot throw it

the foot is in the wheel

when it's finished and we're lying
in a stubble of blistered flowers
eyes gaping, mouths staring
dusted with crushed arterial blues

i'll have done nothing
even for you?]

you know the feeling

that inexplicable anger that arises from no action, but simply a trigger of an idea once worshiped.

it is not possibly identifiable by soul or heart at this point, only through that video of archives that haunts and hurts inside the mind of each of us, that nook where each of us is holding on to things we'd rather not but know we must.

[would you rid that memory? would i?
can it truly be gone if the conciousness which it molded must stay intact? ]

tangent thoughts for another sun...

back to that anger i wish i could suppress. did anyone truly ever hurt me? or did i use their power to hurt myself? we all look for those outlets, do we not? those opportunities to be able to blame somebody, accept that hurt, allow something or someone to assist in our deeply personal healing? what if we reject that? if we do not allow ourselves to accept that hurt? could we do it? or at least try?
or would be simply be numbing our hearts so that the insensitivity would outweigh any form of emotion...we would become...something other than what a human is. a human feels. a human manipulates. wants to feel. needs to feel. needs and subconsciously craves that hurt so that the healing can improve the psyche, build upon that storybook of underrecognized experiences that mold us form us play with us until we end up to be that being who we'll become ?

can i reject this anger? this truly inconsequential and purely hurtful anger? why has it chosen to manifest itself in me right now? i did not call upon some reason to be angry. i did not call upon myself to bring to life something to which i can draw the attention of others?
or did myself do it for me?
yes, i think it did.

time to stop fucking feeling sorry for myself.
grab that perfectly mystic state - grasp it from the air and take it in - its sole purpose to overcome this anger that spurs from nothing that is me anymore --- anywhere.

evolving, yes we are. yes, i am. so that anger. can not be conjured up in a time when i need something to sulk about, to rage about. because that anger was born in a place that i choose not to revisit. that i have archived for a reason.
so i reject it.

and so can you.

about time to shine baby

bout time to shine the sun never shone
breathe a breath never breathed
and see like i've never seen before/

it's that time.
about time baby
to shine.

shine like i can but haven't
breathe like i can but wouldn't
see like i am but hadn't/

wow this sun breath sight makes me somewhere else
takes me someone else
and shows me everything i've been waiting to know see tell do want crave understand.

and please note, folks of passion,
no you's will be used in this nightly muse
until one turns me side upon end and shows me
back into that hole i have so recently arisen from

so you is overrated and me us and everyone not used enough
let's talk about us as a we and an all
and leave the you's to you/

and the shining breathing and
seeing.
seeing.
seeing.
to all of us.