"The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry."
~ Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell To Arms



"Our lives disconnect and reconnect, we move on, and later we may touch one another, again bounce away. This is the felt shape of a human life, neither simply linear nor wholly disjunctive nor endlessly bifurcating, but rather this bouncey sequence of bumping into's and tumblings apart."
~ Salman Rushdie, The Ground Beneath Her Feet



Friday, May 11, 2012

Moleskin Notebook...

I want last night back
The moments of light that filled my soul with delight
All the instances of life together in a smoke filled room of fragmented dreams
Beatnik poets sputtering words spiced with jazz improvisation
Absinthe breath and chocolate eyes

In stilettos touching my mind with unsung melodies
Invited dreams like vampire skin


Crimson droplets of love’s despair stain sanitized expectations
Half painted portraits of bifurcated lives on old canvas
No way to tell the truth…

Only in the half light of shifting shadows
Color mixed on a palette like a blood red splayed horizon of possibility
Chianti bottles emptied like hearts on tables with flickering candle fire
Bouncing from intoxicated gaze to gaze
Faces lost in the poetic mystical space of life’s ineffable finitude






A moleskin notebook
Capturing the spilling of emotion
Each feeling and movement written on blank pages with dull ink
And flamboyant rhythms
Till the night gives way to morning


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