Monthly Archives: September 2011

Fire for our hearts.

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Days creep in front in back and all around me. I am engulfed by the thickness of its hold on me. My senses collide into the eye of its cyclone. A thunderous moment virtuous in its path. Long has it been invisible but not in my eyes. My eyes have seen its marking on my skin, has seen the indentations of the blood that I have dropped for its presence.

I take you everywhere with me. I carry your burden, your past, present and your future. I carry you and feel your words over power my thoughts. Feel the pages fill as they empty me out. You take my hair and pull back the sea that swims inside my thoughts.

Ever see night stand at your sight? Collide with the wings of a flying fish, find the breath that has been long deceased. I find my eyes to still wander the towns pressed by tongues slithering across. Time stands on top as the blankets get pulled back uncovering flesh atop stripped flesh in friction in lust.

Looking back, I find a residue in the gravel that has fitted into the crevasses of my night. Vast is the thought that creates the space that transforms to grace and lights the ancient ways.

Tomorrow not today, always ahead in preparation for the battles begun. Night never sleeps. Dreams awake, and you may now find peace.

A month in memory of years gone by. Dark cloud cluster, swallow the love whole, left in distances words do not articulate, movements slow their pace becoming like statues outside of dreams. Mind pains the taking of swords, steps to one side while stones enter the field. All is at a halt, concealed from beneath mountains where volcanoes dwell building fire for our hearts.

Her Love

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My grandmother says she married when she was fifteen years old and didn’t know what love was. She played by the creek when she was married and afterwards she had the added responsibility of weaving majestic Persian rugs for her in-laws.

It took three years for her to have her first daughter and that’s when she found that love was there. I asked her if she told my grandfather that she loved him and she got mad at me and said, “why are you asking such unintelligent questions! He didn’t need to hear it, he already knew!”

We get so lost in words these days that we forget the unspoken language that exists as well. Sometimes there is no need to speak what is already clear through action through touch through just the purity of what the eyes hold.

She is as she has always been. A survivor, born after her fathers death. She says the time she had with my grandfather was full of love and that he was an amazing man to her. But now she has forgotten the exact feeling of what that love was that she felt. But she knows it was love. From the beginning until his departure which came to soon for her.