Strange now to think that what we think of as now will be part one day of the distant past just as what is now the distant past was once the present day and what was their future is now a tiny sliver of the vast expanse of history as if history could be something definable a monolith materializing as we play with bones or fight over water the sun has only so many years left in its cycle then they say it will blow apart to be reconstituted by our so called ancestors in the future
Tag: Poetry
-
Time Game
-
Long Lost Friend
When I lost you I didn’t think there was any way I could be found again as if the concept of found itself was lost abolished, scattered to the four directions until they discovered the fifth dimension which itself was promptly lost in a puff of logic. It’s not that there was no day or night but the gloaming felt more or less like homecoming like winter would at last last forever for starters and the trees gathered bare as twigs for the fire. When I lost you I knew I would never see you again. And now that I haven’t, and you’re here we can pick up right where we once left off which was I suppose like counting the minutes until they counted for nought, for love for now that I have found you I won’t ever let you go.
-
Last Dream
This morning I dreamed as I began to waken or I awoke as I began to dream, that life was ending, specifically my consciousness breaking apart into tiny bubbles before my eyes, and all I could think to think was Is that all? I didn’t want it to be ending, and so soon It wasn’t dramatic, a return from the precipice of tunnel towards a clear light, and then turning back again because it wasn’t my time, but even if as the tiny bubbles dissipate when they actually appear awake or in a dream I’m still convinced that we have nothing to be afraid of even if I choked myself awake grateful to have this day happy it is not yet the end.
-
Titanic
I’ve decided not to look for metaphors anymore even when they’re obvious. Instead, I choose to be conscious of the things that pass before my eyes and ears. Such as the moon rising beside a tree as I walked and took a seat at the musical the opening number of which moved me so much I cried completely, long before the catastrophe that wasn’t yet part of the story.
-
Belated
On my walk today just around the block I saw blossoms just starting to bloom Two friends who might have been brothers or twins A man in a car asked for directions to the theatre A woman smiled at me as I smiled at her A child spun in circles waiting her turn with a scooter And I listened to words and guitar wondering for love that causes each step to follow another.
-
After Brecht
In the dark times With the bombs falling Will there also be singing? Yes, there will be singing About the bombs falling In the dark times In the dark times When no one is listening Who will be listening To the singing In the dark times? You will also be listening As you are singing About the bombs falling And no one listening To the singing And the marching And the gathering In the dark times Because what the fuck else are we going to do?
-
Lost and Found
When I lost it and I mean really lost it so much so I had no idea if it would ever come back, whatever it may be, if it’s marbles that’s just a metaphor maybe a play thing, if it’s consciousness that has yet to be proven definitively beyond a shadow of a doorway at the top of the stairs in the middle of the night having a slow discussion with your pastor or your director, who is really your father or uncle or doppelgänger, and you’re talking but really it’s to only yourself, the topic happens to be all the evil that seems to be everywhere and the voice that’s really only in your head says “There’s been a lot of dying going on around here. But what if we could beat Hitler at his own game?” And you say to the voice, “You mean, everybody dies?” And the voice replies, “Everybody lives.” And months later when you find it again and I mean really found it, you know that means that God saved them. God saves us all. Love wins, damnit. Love wins.
-
It’s Not a Camera
A month of birthdays can’t help but remind me of the time we tried to surprise my father with an unexpected gift, a camera, and I tried to throw him off the scent with the unmistakable misdirection, “It’s not a camera,” which caused my mother and brothers to guffaw in familial laughter but no matter because my father didn’t hear me anyway, and he opened his present with the surprise intact the lesson of which, if there is one to be gleaned from this incident, is No matter what you expect No matter what may be in store If you stop listening, or just get distracted It’s always, and never, not a camera.
-
Voices Awake
And when the world upends itself opens its veins to the thousand tiny shocks that flesh is air to, err on the side of caution, as you don’t know where the next terror may lurk, in fear or loss of control somehow they appear invisible and static just open your eyes as if to dream, not because sleep won’t come, but you only see what they want you to hear anyway.
-
Star Gaze
To say that there is not enough time in the world is to say that there is enough time to reboot the universe that stars only hang suspended in the blackness as peepholes to the infinite that there may be enough time in the early morning to escape from a vampire film or a blasted out desert and go on a road trip because our love affair with cars has gone on for too long and find her, somewhere they can’t find me, and tell her she is the only one the north and lonely star.
Joshua Keiter 