I remember the vividness of the moment so well. We were young like yesterday and I could remember the motives behind your gaze of sympathy. I was asked politely to leave and I should have known better. I didn’t. I am often asked about the future by people, people I admire. I have no answers about the future. I have none.
But I could tell of the past. I can remember well.
sipping all day, keeping the sand away, i was kidding already and kissing all steady, so i woke up and punched, and sat down and spit, and then i walked aboard the choochoo train and calmed down inside my hat, i was cold like a bean, and feeling my sheen, so i awoke to the mountain and left the ground panting, i was the concise and accurate one, the calm and prophetic one, the lying and cheating one, the mistake of the present one, the shattered memory of the last one, i was killing myself, and killing the song, i was remembering the past and endearing the last, she was trying to beat me, and she almost won the fight, but i swung like ali, and my movements were tight.
hidden behind the world there are faces, not quite the legit kind but the other kind, in the written words of the poets that come close the future, i sit kindly and without remorse. i am the sitter, the one who takes the breath and cries to the skies for help. the eyes turning downward, not quite sure, but still righteous, like the snakes that sit aboard the delta, their eyes turned downward, running along the ground as they seek solace, much like the hummingbird that sits along the neck of the future, and his eyes are keyed on the tree, but the tree is insulted. the tree has been a property owner since the dinosaurs and the dinosaurs were so kind. they used to tell jokes and leave love behind. but the dinosaurs are gone, and the trees must provide shade to all who wish, for the tree is limited in its abilities. the tree can only do so much. the tree has leaves, and the leaves are supported by branches. the tree is fed by the soil, by the dry dirt of the last hundred years, and further down, the dirt of the last two hundred years, and so on, until the core is reached, and the eyes begin to face upward, wondering about sunlight and the moon and the rumors of a tree above ground so large that it provides shade for all of us. you and me too.
hey charlie, you keep playing songs. you keep playing songs like you play them well man. you keep on playing them and i just keep on listening to them, you know, just like yesterday, just like the would have been and almost never was you know, charlie you keep sitting on top of me, you keep playing those songs, you keep reminding me what the point was to begin with, you keep on sending the message you should have sent yesterday, you just keep on digging, you keep on wondering how much longer, how much more, how much more, how much more. these days i get tired man. i get so tired i start to fall asleep, you keep on grinding away, you keep on grinding, you just keep playing away and you keep wondering indeed you keep on, you just keep on man, like a bird, like a pajaro, like an angel bird flapping your wings charlie, you keep on keeping on, like an angel man, watching you fly man, watching you coast away to the sunset, like falcon man, no man, not like a falcon, like a heavenly bird man, you are bird man you are bird.
of course the characters were there, we could see them all clearly, and we knew in unison that there was more work to be done. i was aware of that. i think everybody was.
i had to know the course of training we were asked for, but i was let down by it all. i was consumed by the horror ahead. i was made to feel terrible, and i was the only one apparently thrown from the edge, towards the border where i was found a while later. i was taken for a fool. i was. but i was not foolish. i was the hero for a short time. for a few moments, i was held in awed and admiration and i love that.
i had to know more, so i kept pushing downward, towards the shore, feeling selected or broken, but always a bit alarmed or concerned. i felt there was a need there, so i could not pursue myself any further. i was the last one to know, of course, so there had to be jets and planes and atmospheres and all time put together. i had to say that much. i had to admit as much to myself.
i was chosen by the police because i was the cherished one, i was the one with the adult perspective and the savvy and cynicism. i was the learned one.
so i thought, or maybe so i think i thought now then
i kept rambling so she told me shut up. i was taken for a fool. i said to her, stop taking me for a fool. you need to take me for a hero.
she could not believe my ineptitude. i cowered in fear from her eyes, sweet and velvety they kissed me so gently i was in love in a moment.
i hovered nearby. i held my glass. i circled her, inspecting her features, yes yes yes, fine fine fine, lovely, wonderful, wow
i had to know her
so i battled ahead with certitude and a feeling a righteousness not uncommon to these parts
i was left alone and hurt, really hurt all the way through.
i had to let myself down, but i did not know how. i did not know how to leave here. i did not know.
i was scared of the future, scared of the past, and scared of the now. i had to leave myself alone, to bath myself in myself as it were, to find the missing link, to pursue at all costs, to run the mill, to bark loudly at the titans nearby. i had to believe for just a few moments that i was special. i had to believe that much.
i can take you seriously i can. i can take you to the edge and i can remember the paths we had to take. i can remember very well.
i almost always fixate on the future. almost always.
i think of those days often. i think of them fondly. i remember when there was more to see than myself, more to hold than myself, more to me than myself, and i was palatable.
my identity was fluid, as it were. i mean to say that i had not yet sold myself to a specific bidder concerning who or what would be my face to you all.
now as a man left alone, finally and finally, i can say with absolute certitude that the light was the brightest when i was the brightest, that is to say, i remember myself more than i remember others. that is to say, i miss myself. and i hope to see him very soon. i remember when…
alas, the time has come for all of us to take heed of the circumstance. there is not favor or passivity in these walls, just a vague awareness of the love that endures, the endurable obligation that renders us all towards the worlds beneath us. we are indeed the promised ones, the ones with entitlements, the ones with hopes and dreams. we are the children of the oppressed. we are the ones who got away clean, and now we are presented with a world that is not pure or clean, but condensed into factions that are at war. a war of ideas, of values, of judgments and needs.
i cannot being to assert my own understanding. to assert as much would be to admit my own ignorance which i am too proud to admit. in fact, admitting in itself just reeks of cowardice. i would much rather proclaim or state or announce, admitting has such a demeaning tone.
i love what we are capable of. there are moments when all is well, when the world seems at peace and just the common humanity of us all is enough to save the day.
other times, our competitiveness renders my attitude complacent and dull. i see the delusional conceptions of power that grip the minds of my fellow citizens and feel sick. i want to hide. i feel as if my home is in my self and that this land is filled with the misguided pronouncements of some despicable other.
i hate to be that other. in fact, i want to be the not other. i want to be the majority. but even that makes me uncomfortable, because i have sat on the other side so many times. observing, wondering what my place could possibly be in this madness.
and then of course, comes laughter. what comfort. what sense of purpose i feel. thanks to the other. thanks to you.