The Curtain of Time

Suspended between earth and heaven this thick dark smokiness has the beginning of time at one end and the other for now is in flux
A song of this same name says he gave me beauty for ashes let’s take a look at the ashes from earths side everything is disintegrating
All material matter is in a metamorphic state of decay new today gone tomorrow even people wear out always in the mind a true crux
Forever their beginning is rehearsed and their end never has an ending discussion we fret about what is missed by each side the loss

Look at what they missed in this year alone independence day the remembering the celebration the retelling of former glory
Peer through the curtain in front men of giant stature the founders are speaking of their exploits our loved ones give rapt attention
The father of our country gives a simple discourse of those crowning achievements there isn’t a dry eye after the telling story
This side books old and worn tell us what happened there it is breathed vouched by those it happened to the thrill reverberates

Earths snail pace lost just insignificant fractions compared to the speed of light travel beyond the curtain by thought you are there
The smoky curtain side families constrict the currents ever wider race and fills ancestral logs overwhelmed you set among your own
People that it would be hard to trace and show relation come up and give you hugs their peaceful nature leaves you a joyful air
Playing among angels and no worries will do that to you make you carefree seasoned by trailing what ifs then they turn to what is

The smoky side is brighter when facts are figured the sum of man is not told and then ended by the sod and marble stone
You touch the world with limited understanding you go to the place rich discoveries fold out of one another continuously
Amazement the norm you once plodded now you are the measureless wind free held only to heavens keel the stars out shone
In the kinetic flow all you need to know is enter designs that glory alone defines these unending lines eternal the curtain no more

In some sense,
we’re all proportionately configured
if we will grow,
to be with adjustment’s ideation

solidity is not a beautiful thing
when mixed with fearful rigidity
a hex is really just a RUDE blessing

    Till we strut, shan’t we be living
Please Pass the pickled Beets

it is raining,
with a smokiness
lisping through the
stifling air.

the haze tightens
its fist around my
neck - red tremors
in my eyes

the trembles of the
fog are grace in my
ears; but smoke alarms
still tick in these halls.

that part of her is gone.
the part that makes the right decisions.
she abandoned it, with the hope
that she would feel.
those vultures eat her up;
scorching her innocence.
she'll take any closeness,
even if it's the wrong kind.
anything to feel wanted.
when all she ever felt was superfluous.
whispered nothings soothe her ears,
empty embraces chain her down.

fill your liver with love toxins,
your lungs with that sanguine smokiness.
take yourself to that world.
where, for a night, you are needed.

sitting by the phone, diminished confidence.
she opens her little black book...
and writes.

Lately I feel weighed down
as chocolate coated brown.
I taste sweet, a cherry lollipop,
fizzy as orange soda-pop.
But inside I’m dissonant ebony,
masked in shrouds of revelry.
I bask all day in purple haze.
Run amok in a cornfield maze,
behind yellow walls of acid rain,
indelible as a port-wine stain.
Smell the smokiness of me.
I’m a jar of potpourri.

I am empty
I said
In not so many words
The veiled confessions dripping off his ears like candle wax
As the wick burns down
Filling the room with a palpable smokiness
That only I can sense

I am choking
I am crawling
I can feel my light fading

For I am a teacup
Sitting on a shelf
Dusty but decorated
My handle pointed towards the wall
Breakable
And uninspired

How I long to be filled with more than emptiness
To have him pour all of his being into my heart and mind
To have him look into my eyes and see more than himself
But each confession only serves to deepen the loneliness
As a search for a soul to listen through the words

Healing the mind is a process
calming
We need to surround ourselves with beauty
In sight, sound
Tactile
feeling objects
Stress is unforgiving
unless you forgive it yourself
It's a practice
forest bathing
Ocean cleansing, constantly moving
Strawberries and hibiscus in the sunlight
Stroking the forehead of your child
gently
The smokiness of the molasses
The sweetness of the maple syrup
the purity of the water

.....