God, grant me the serenity 

to accept the things I cannot change, 

the courage to change the things I can,

and the wisdom to know the difference.

AUM

Everything is burning, burning away

and you, you, I see that match you are holding

but it isn't you and it isn't a match

because every thing is burning, burning away.

We are burning too, you and me, for we,

we were and are and shall be anything and any thing;

we were and are and shall be the fire that burns

and the thing which it burns.

AUM

If I showed you the river,

would you know it was time?

If you stood in the boat and rowed forever

would you know you were still next to me on the shore?

I tried, I tried to teach you, tried to show you how.

Damyata. Datta. Dayadhvam.

But all you heard was the thunder.

"He discerns that 'Birth is depleted, the holy life fulfilled, the task done. There is nothing further for this world.'" That is what the Blessed One said.

No saccharin shantih here. It is escaping the flames.

The Last Five Years (Minus One and a Half)

I should probably refrain from listening to musicals which encapsulate too perfectly my feelings. It doesn't even make me feel better about myself. I look at the relationship it depicts, I recognize the man as me and the woman as her; neither of them are people I particularly like, but I love them both. The end of their marriage is simultaneously inevitable and heartbreaking.

Aristotle would say it's a tragedy, but then again, Aristotle didn't know shit about love.

Cathy: I will not be the girl/who gets asked how it feels/to be trotting along/at the genius's heels
Jamie: If I did't believe in you/I'd never have loved you/at all.

For My Imaginary Readers, To Her

so fierce, the current
its stinging cold,
the way it threw us
crashcrashcrash
against rocks.

i didn't mean to let you go.
breaking the surface,
i expected you to come up
right next to me.

is it my fault that you,
you are somewhere downstream?
i hope it is sunny there.
i am so sorry.

drip.
Was it worth it?
drip.
Was it better?
drip.
Are you whole again? Are you happy?
drip. drip. drip.
From the hole, from your shot, the ground drinks me dry.
drip. drip. drip. drip. drip. drip.
Maybe this will silence the furies that keep you up at night.
drip. drip. drip. drip. drip. drip.
Or maybe now you will never escape them.

why.
why we don't talk.
why you're so cold.
why nothing is easy.
why.

because.
because i don't know what to do.
because your name tears open old wounds.
because when i shut my eyes
the daughter i never had
cries out for me
her voice floating away like the scent
of flowers, soft and high.
like lillies.
because.

my cell phone forgot you today.
all the names and words it knows aren't yours.

when does my memory fill and you are ejected?

To Octavio Paz

*Note: for those of you unfamiliar with Paz's poem, "Touch," it will make more sense after reading it here.

When you touched her, then, with her new body
did you lust after her or it?
Holding her in your arms,
sweet sweat and the haze of la petite mort enveloping you,
was it her you held, or some abstraction,
something she wasn't?

Did you like what you saw behind the curtains of her being,
or should you have drawn them tighter and simply enjoyed
the illusion?

so i was reading a book, some arduous thing on why the Romans
though disgraced
never fell
(except downdowndown into death)
and i heard something:

tap

and then i heard another thing:

taptap

and then i heard a third thing, but it was not "tap"
it was urgency, a cacophany of nowrightnow that threw me from my chair
and sent the never-falling Romans to the floor

outside the window there were two ravens
and they spoke not nevermore
but with voices of sound and fury they said

"HURRYUPPLEASEIT'STIMEHURRYUPPLEASEIT'STIME
HURRYUPPLEASEIT'STIMEHURRYUPPLEASEIT'STIME"

and i knew godtruth and my destiny in one terrible moment
but there was no time for fear
because like a thief in the night
it was already upon me

So, I've had an idea for some poetry, and I was wondering if a) any of you still harbor hope that I'll post here, and b) if those of you that do would help with some brainstorming. The idea is to write poems centered on figures from either history or from literature, the older the better. It started with a poem about Orpheus, and now I'm trying to branch out. Suggestions?

Something Mundane

When I saw this, I decided immediately to do it, because my blog has gone months with no attention and these things always seem like more fun just before I collapse from exhaustion.

Where's your phone ?
Next to my left hand.

Spell your name without an E:
Drw. Apparently I'm not good enough for a vowel.

What was the last thing you drank?
Lemonade.

Do you like your music loud or at a reasonable level?
Loud enough to hear all of it and to hear little else besides.

What are you excited for?
The day when I wake up and realize that I can breathe, because I made it. Because I'm safe.

Have you lived in the same town your entire life?
No. Yes. No?

What was the highlight of your day?
Getting a big ass panel done for a museum exhibit. Small computers and large documents confuse me.

At this very moment, what exactly are you doing?
This?

Who was last person you took a picture with?
I have no idea. Maybe my staff from Hamilton, or my family on vacation.

What is your all-time favorite romance movie?
Either "Lost in Translation" or "Shakespeare in Love".

Last time you had a headache?
The night the cop came to supboena me.

Have you ever changed someones diaper?
Yep. Two little shit-monsters. And they're just as bad now, although the diapers are metaphorical.

Do you know anyone named Betsy?
Betsy, no. Betsey, yes.

When is the last time you went to taco bell?
Whenever it was, it was too recent. Two weeks, maybe?

Who did you last go out to eat with?
Shona, or my family. I can't remember right now.

What are you listening to?
The clattering of the keys and the murmuring of a muddled heart.

Has the last person you kissed met your parents?
Many, many times.

Do you ever cry during movies?
If I'm really attached, yeah.

Who is the first person you saw this morning?
Um, the whole family simultaneously?

What do you want more than anything right now?
Emily, whenever I may find her.

What are you wearing?
Clothing. And a hemp bracelet I made because I am bored.

When was the last time a member of the opposite sex hugged you?
My sister hugs me before bed every night, but before that it was Emily, whenever I saw her last.

Do you think more about the past, present, or future?
Always the past. Or the future, but less frequently than the past. The present can suck a bag of dicks.

Where is the last place you slept besides your bed?
My couch.

Do you think anyone has feelings for you?
I know someone does, but I don't know what that means anymore.

How many hours of sleep did you get last night?
Not enough.

Do you miss anyone?
God, yes.

Are you wearing jeans right now?
I haven't worn jeans in weeks.

Do you talk about your feelings or hide them?
I'm not sure if I talk about them or perform sleight-of-hand so that they seem exposed but are really hidden.

Have you ever kissed someone with braces?
No.

Who is the last person you missed a call from?
Someone wanting money I don't have.

Tell me, what's on your mind?
I want to feel alive.

Are you happy?
If I was, would I really know?

What's bothering you?
This quiz and its redundancy.

Is there a reason for your Myspace song?
It's lovely and sad. Which is the most beautiful combination in the world.

Have you told anyone you love them today?
Yes, actually. It was probably a mistake.

Did you kiss/hug anyone in the past 24 hours?
Hug, yes; my sister. Kiss, no, and that's not likely to change soon.

Do you go tanning?
Oh, yeah, then I get those fly-ass fake nails. And a weave.

The last person you kissed breaks your heart, what do you do?
This survey, I suppose.

Will tomorrow be a good day?
I thought that yesterday was a bad day, but today was worse, so probably not, no.

The one person who has hurt you the most says they love you, you say?
"I love you too."

Do you have any nicknames?
Only when people don't know me, or aren't seeing me clearly.

Will you be in a relationship next month?
No.

Do you think there are circumstances when it's okay to wait for someone?
Yes.

Do you have any pets?
A cat and a dog. The dog is a bitch. The cat's fuckin' balla.

Is there anyone in the room with you?
No.

What do the majority of people in your life call you?
Drew.

Could you go out in public looking like you do now?
Yeah.

Current relationship status?
Impasse.

Would you ever get a tattoo?
Someday, when I figure out what to get and where.

Are you currently frustrated with a boy or girl?
Frustrated? No.

Morning or night person?
I like the mornings, but I can never get up for them.

Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn't do?
Yes, and sometimes I liked them.

Does someone else like the same person you do?
Yes, people always seem to.

Do you sleep on a particular side of the bed?
Smack dab in the middle. You can ask, I'm an awful bed-hog.

Do you think of anyone and start crying?
Yes.

Do you tell people your relationship status?
I don't like to talk about it right now.

What is the nearest green thing to you?
Strands on the bracelet my sister made me.

When was the last time you saw your mom?
An hour ago, when she went to bed.

Is there someone of the opposite sex you tell everything to?
Emily, but increasingly Tiffany as well.

Do you think there is someone thinking about you right now?
Yes.

Do you believe in second chances?
No, it's all the same chance. It's either extended or terminated.

What is the color of your shirt ?
Slate.

Do you prefer the ocean or pool?
I don't swim, so the ocean. Looking at pools makes me think of The Virgin Suicides. Don't know why.

Do you laugh a lot?
Occasionally, when I'm happy. Or hysterical.

Are you happy with your life right now ?
When the rock reaches the top and rolls back down, where is happy?

Have you told anyone you miss them lately?
Yes.

Do you know any guy who straightens his hair?
Me, sometimes.

Were you smiling in the last picture taken of you?
Maybe, but I doubt I meant it.

Do you think that you’re a good person?
When good is a matter of what someone else thinks of me, I don't really care.

Do you hate the last girl you were talking to?
Not at all, though it hurts me to admit it.

Do you currently have a hickey?
No.

Are you able to grab your cell phone without moving from where you are now?
Yes.

Has someone annoyed you today?
My little brother is a walking annoyance.

Are you closer with your siblings or cousins?
My cousins, when we talk. My siblings are much too young.

Would you rather it be sunny or rainy?
Rainy, as long as I'm inside with a book. Otherwise, overcast.

Is there someone you wouldn't mind kissing right now?
Sadly, yes. And therein lies the rub.

A Letter to Jack (not mine)

Hey, Jack, it's me,
I don't mean to bother you,
but somethings been on my mind.
At the end of this road that climbs,
the horizon will be reached in
a matter of miles.

And when the wheels cease to spin
the walls and the fences will grow higher
than redwood trees.
And I know your demise.
And I fear what will happen when the road fails
to flow under me.

Oh Jack, you see, I felt like your mirror
with the wind whipping through my hair.
When the wheels ceased to spin
and I cased my surroundings
I realized I hadn't gone anywhere.

When the problems I'd left
with couches in alleys,
where no one would ever claim.
And the hardest part was sifting through the pieces
of the rain soaked and rotten remains
when I got home.

i have something to say to you, but first
there is soot in my mouth
and what is left of my charred-black tongue--
please take them; I don't use them anymore.

when i speak, do not listen, but look,
for my words have no sound--
they are ash-drawn figures
dancing silent in the wind.

i have something to say to you;
read it while i burn

A Fragment

...they came then to the place of the dry bones and the dead ground, both strangers in that strange land of ashes and dust. For so long they had dealt out death, in a way smarter men called quid pro quo, but he knew it only as one dripping-acid word: revenge.

There amid the hard rocks and the intractable sun he faced his dark other, his doppelgänger, his sins; for on the face of the other he saw the tears of the mothers whose children they had taken away, and in the smile of the other he saw the gnashing teeth of the boys oozing so much life away--and in the eyes of the other he saw the things he had been running from for so long. The things he could never escape.

They faced each other there, he and the other, to settle the score, already too high.

Hand to the holster. 3. 2. 1.

When they drew, neither fired; instead, they stood frozen as winds howled within and without them. He knew he needed to fire, to end it all. To get his revenge.

Dust blew across the dark other's face, then, and he saw in a flash the real and the true. He knew that death would take the dark other, and him, too, in time. He knew that when the dark other lay dead on the hot ground another would come to take up the mantle of pain and fear.

Why won't he shoot? he thought, and in that moment he saw the thing he feared most--he saw the dark other's eyes, gazing back at him with the same confusion and anxiety. And then, from outside or inside himself--is there a difference?--he heard it, loud and clear as a bell and as doom:

"I am become death, the destroyer of worlds."

Out of the holster like lightning, he pulled back the hammer and fired. His last conscious memory was the look of shock on the dark one's face. After that, all slid into black. He was aware only of the hot ground, and the wind on his face.

The dark one stood for a while where he was, looking on as the man's lifeblood watered the cracked earth. Next to the still-warm body he laid his hat, and he knelt down to cover the man's face with his handkerchief--but first, the dark one closed the man's eyes. Then he picked up the man's gun and put it in his satchel before heading back to the nearest town. It would be dark soon, and hungry things were bound to come.

For those that ever check this, I'm really sorry that I don't post more; truly, it's a big regret I have. Usually I have to apply my creative energies to more mundane things, and by the time I want to write, nothing comes, no matter how badly I'd like to.

Maybe that's why I'd like to. That would make sense. That the only time I want words is when I can't find them.

Do you hear that?
That sound?
It's the ocean.

And you are alone.

Who are you?
Where are you going?
I'm afraid, you see.
I'm afraid that I'm lost.
I'm afraid that I don't even know where I'm going.
I'm afraid that one day I'll wake up and everyone will have left in the night.
With no map to guide me and no footsteps to follow,
I'm afraid that I'll fail.
So I ask you now because maybe this prayer will reach you somehow
and unite us across the gulfs of space, time, and possibility:
Who are you?
Where are you going?