Farewell

a world I never imagined

- a world without you -

has descended upon us

cold

sudden

& crushing

and little of it makes

sense

it hurts not to have said

goodbye

but I know

you wouldn't have wanted it

any other way

I wish I could have said

so much more

but I know

words never meant

much to you

I just hope to have made it clear

how much I love you

how much I always will

how much you mean to me

your smile

your voice

your eyes

your warmth

are within me forever

you loved life

you were life

and the beauty of your

heart & mind & soul

higher than anything else

is every day a small miracle to me

to think of how much you gave me

of how much you were

were you ever fully happy

or understood?

I guess I'll never know

but I do know the

beautiful flame

within you

never flickered

not judging many of those

who judged you

contemplating

feeling

smiling

living & loving

each day

more human than any of us

I hope to have made you

proud

if nowhere near as much

as you made me

I hope you realize I would

be nothing

& have nothing

had I not glimpsed

the treasure behind your eyes

I want you to know

in every word & gesture & look

how much I love you

and I always will

farewell

Refugee

We got somethin', we both know it,
We don't talk too much about it.
Ain't no real big secret all the same,
somehow, we get around it.

It don't really matter to me, baby,
You believe what you want to believe,
You don't have to live like a refugee.
(Don't have to live like a refugee)

Somewhere, somehow,
Somebody must have kicked you around some.
Tell me why you wanna lay there and revel in your abandon.

It don't make no difference to me, baby,
Everybody's had to fight to be free,
You see you don't have to live like a refugee.
(Don't have to live like a refugee)

Baby, we ain't the first.
I'm sure a lot of other lovers been burned.
Right now this seems real to you,
But it's one of those things you gotta feel to be true.

Somewhere, somehow,
Somebody must have kicked you around some.
Who knows? Maybe you were kidnapped,
Tied up, taken away, and held for ransom.

It don't really matter to me, baby,
Everybody's had to fight to be free,
You see you don't have to live like a refugee.

- Tom Petty

Into starlight.

The unbearable lightness of being

'Why?' The word dangles from the child's lips. Scanning, searching, groping everywhere. Doors opened towards everything and nothing. Simple, natural, irrepressible impulse. Then fading. Not the end of questions, but the 'why?' becomes 'when?'. Or 'how much?'. The end of 'why?' and no more questioning. Everything given, taken for granted, claimed by birthright. Not even a 'what for?'. And that's our shame, a winding - but not the only - road. To stop questioning. No 'why?' for choices. For words. Tongue. Daylight. Summer wind. Kisses. The ocean. Silence. Music. Shoes on your feet. No flies on your skin. No poison in your well. No well, in fact, just running water. But no 'why?'. And we walk - no, we run - with no questions asked. To leave the questions behind - or to choose which ones to leave behind - is everyone's choice. And it is more than an exercise in self-pity. But it is simpler than that. Maybe just a gaze at the sun with air-filled lungs in a spring morning. Or maybe less. So it goes.

Into starlight.

A want of shade

'If I lied to myself,' said he, 'I should have the feeling I was lying to you as well. And I couldn't bear that.'
'Yes,' said Marcelle; but she did not look as if she believed him.
'You don't look as if you believed me?'
'Oh yes I do,' she said, nonchalantly.
'You think I'm lying to myself?'
'No - anyway, one can't ever know. but I don't think so. Still, do you know what I do believe? That you are beginning to sterilize yourself a little. I thought that today. Everything is so neat and tidy in your mind: it smells of clean linen: it's as though you had just come out of a drying-cupboard. But there's a want of shade. There's nothing useless, nor hesitant, nor underhand about you now. It's all high noon. And don't ell me this is all for my benefit. You're moving down your own incline: you've acquired the taste for self-analysis.'

- Jean-Paul Sartre

Into twilight.

In the name of hip

I understand how it must sound, when I say I'm sick of being judged by the ignorant, the pretentious and the lazy - especially all rolled into one. I'm tired of mouths that can never be shut, especially with nothing to say. I'm tired of rubbing shoulders with the filth and looking the other way, all in the name of kindness and civility. I'm tired of ignoring huge, immense, ridiculous gaps that keep showing up between grand words and foolish deeds. I think I must be extremely old-fashioned in believing in the virtue of silence over pretentious ignorance. Or, in simpler terms, believing that you should keep quiet when you know shit about shit. But I am amazed and tired of the general apathy & consent, the silent acceptance of idiocy - all the name of hip. Because it's all about being hip. Being hip stands up for the absence of many things - including hard work, intelligence, talent - or just a sense of purpose.
It scares me to think that 50 or 60 years from now people will look back at our generation as one with very little to show in terms of such things - in contrast with a big mouth and an unwavering belief in its own God-given right to fame and recognition. For what? Your guess is as good as mine...
All in the name of hip.
Amen.

Into starlight.

The Hitchhiker

Let me tell you about heartache and the loss of god

Wandering, wandering in hopeless night

Out here in the perimeter there are no stars

Out here we is stoned

Immaculate.

(...)

Thoughts in time and out of season

The Hitchhiker

Stood by the side of the road

And leveled his thumb

In the calm calculus of reason

Hi. How you doin'?

I just got back into town L.A.

I was out on the desert for awhile

Yeah. In the middle of it

Right...

Hey, listen, man, I really got a problem

When I was out on the desert, ya know

I don't know how to tell you

but, ah, I killed somebody

No...

It's no big deal, ya know

I don't think anybody will find out about it, but...

Just, ah...

This guy gave me a ride, and ah...

Started giving me a lot of trouble

And I just couldn't take it, ya know

And I wasted him

Yeah

- Jim Morrison

Into twilight.

The Gentlest Groove

asleep? no

just dreaming...

Into twilight.