I go down into the cool basement where
I go down into the cool basement where
the open foundation peers out of the walls
upstairs she's sleeping, beautiful and
uncomplicated, in a dream I'll never know
my cats want to know what happened
what can I say to them?
I'm sorry, I went back to smoking . . .
don't come down here, I want to be alone
my work is fulfilling but
there is something the size of a needle
it rents a hole inside my brain, a tunnel of worry
air escapes and makes things cold
I used to have that control
things to keep me busy, a goal, some bright idea
countless directions and possibilities
the reason why I came down here tonight
I had a meaning,
a strong sense of knowing
but now I just shiver from the dropping temperatures
and wait for the old spirit of wonder to make me feel better
the basement is a blunt place
to awaken the soul
so what was it I came down here for?
the future has no home,
it looms like a pendulum, moving
from desire to desire, and back to
love, time-honored
my teeth sink deeper into a bed of gums
I'm growing old, and in my house
like guests, they come and go
they smile, nod, give encouragement
I return to this
rhythm of exhaustion.
the memory of disappointment
the memory of disappointment
looms over every lover's head,
the pain of longing is
protracted
extending into future lives,
the world turns
in a continuous way
nothing is permanent
and that makes me dream
again
the people we dream about are
the people we dream about are
enigmas
and they have overwhelming powers
with their words, with their ideas
how could a few words
produce
a bright little dragon of hope?
still the experience is inchoate
not finished yet,
it conceals the final result
this state is more like a dream
than a perpetual longing--
the hope which
alters your reality
will most likely
fly away on butterfly wings
and yet I live for the chances,
how encouraging
when she wakes me out of bed
and dips me into a bath of possibility
not impotent fantasy
but real hope--
the kind that promises
an ultimate end.
surprises--what are surprises?
surprises--what are surprises?
looking back they lose their glow
wishes may be granted
if my wishes are granted
then I will breathe easily
dreams, fantasies, terrors
the cat meowing at the shut door
purposeless I drift in my cocoon
of wonder
my story is so old, so repetitive by now
not even you would like to hear it
my humdrum life, the wheel
of it turning--with only
vivid fantasies to keep me alive
I ache with wonder at
the slow action of my self
growth and maturity are
not quick enough for me
I need a dream to hang on
I need an opium pipe to suck in
clouds of happiness
there is nothing,
not even anger anymore
just the longing
a lake of separation between us.
I don't know if I can ever satisfy my longings
I don't know if I can ever satisfy my longings
with any person or thing,
my outward gaze
sees a paradise of fleeting figures
some lost, others connected by
a rift--
I invite this shapeshifting desire
into my life,
I call it forward, only to turn it down
and my adventures
I'd never give them up, I live
for change, transformation, renewal
but how dark it is to exist in a
pool of longing and astonishment.
Altheabashar is my poetry blog. You can follow the feed here.
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2 comments:
No desire without restraint - this is what came out to my mind when I read your poems. A story that goes like this...
Once upon a time,
There was a girl who longs for something she neither posses, nor have any capacity to retain.
She does not know what it is exactly, all she knew is that she wanted it. She wanted it bad.
Then she met a master - the master knew what she is capable of, and wishes to help her. So he told her these wise words:
"No growth without assistance. No action without reaction. No desire without restraint. Now give yourself up and find yourself again"
The advice is funny because it can only be achieved when it is done in reverse order.
To firs give yourself up and then find yourself again - As you are, without pretense nor additive. The pure you.
To then let go, completely, and thus not crave what you have let go.
To be able to perceive the reaction of your own action and thus be mindful of it, entering the virtuous cycle.
And consequently, to have the world assist you in your growth.
But of course, the young girl did not understand. She went on her own way and ended up killing herself, jumping off the base of a mountain.
It's a story that is both tragic and beautiful.
...
but wait, isn't this a narrative from some movie? hmm...
:-)
You've brought the poems up from the basement and placed them on a golden pillow. You've made room for new dreams.
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