Looking Into the Eyes of Miracles
*So I have returned home. Rode back across the melting snow-plains of Wisconsin and headed off across the winding black roads that lead through the countryside and bring me back to this city. I can feel the worry of waiting here for time to move forward. Always here time seems to stop. Time is always in my mind. But there are other things that sometimes have the power to push it into the periphery where I ignore it.
LOOKING INTO THE EYES OF MIRACLES
Soft music.
Yellow light upon vein-bulged hands
That bounce rhythmically to the Nutcracker held in the heart
Of Christmas Time Spirit.
When I saw her face two days ago,
When I looked into her eyes eight years ago,
When Time stood still for me
In a momentus moment
Where even people who are busy with their thoughts
Pause to feel it pass,
Holding their breath to gaze upon
The scene of someone reaching an Event….
The candle was lit within.
The wick began to wither down
As the wax dribbled along the sides like white blood–pure blood.
But I did not feel the warmth.
Words rise up in scold.
Words go down in dismissal.
Black letters appear like magic
And fill the scrolling, expanding space
Of a place where dreams come true
And others can see them, too.
Her eyes in memory are many colors.
Placid pools, stagnant mires, ugly at times, but always true.
Her hair is different shapes and styles,
Her face a constant flickering change.
Nothing stays the same.
Nothing’s there to blame
For it either. The event is just an is.
Like so many things in life that we
Decide to demand explanation for,
As if there were rules to adhere to
That would give our life a better way.
Laughter, slight.
A golden medal with an eagle upside down,
Lots of pens and paper around,
A guiter with underwear wrapped around its stand,
A bullseye with many broken pegs.
Her laughter booms or falls like petals,
Orchid petals because they are my favorite
Just like her. And when she comes in the night
In that wicked white light of foggy mist
That wraps around me and my blankets and my head,
And dances before my eyes as if they were ghosts
And I had died….well, when it haunts me and I scream out,
Her name is always changing.
A scratch of the head
Makes a coarse sound and cuts follicles
Away with dead skin.
Little pieces breaking off all the time,
We’re all breaking.
I have friends. I have loves.
Some remain when the year moves
Around to snow or melted puddles,
Others go and fade like the ghost at the end of the night.
They are stars to me, and life is the ever waiting sun.
When dawn comes, they cannot stay,
They hide away.
And I forget that they are still there.
Blinking.
A small black clock with blood red numbers
It doesn’t tick, the only sound from down below
And the hum of the machine
That makes my dreams appear for eyes to see.
I wonder if my heart will ever settle.
I wonder if my heart will ever change.
Some would argue I don’t know quite yet
What it’s made of, I’d like to think I do.
I’d like to think that I ignore the things
That others think I’m blind to.
I have my glasses on, and I can see things clearly
Enough to know what happens all around.
And while I can’t see myself through even my eyes,
I know I’m doing something wrong.
Wrong to the world.
Not wrong to me.
Not wrong at all if the world could just see these things.
If I could just speak my dreams.
Faces changing on the side,
One or two swell up with a second’s pause,
New eyes and smiles glowing warm,
Looking for something that I have lost,
I sometimes feel I lost it for them, too.
Wouldn’t it be wonderful to know
That you carried some great burden on your shoulders
That could justify all the pain you sometimes feel.
Irrational you cry.
Irrational and wrong and false and sad.
Look up and smile, for God’s sakes be glad
You have a home, a roof, food, money, a life.
Hopes for future free of strife
And yet no, no–no no no.
There is something still lacking in the glow.
It’s yellow still and sick and chained.
The walls are yellow and putrid and stained.
The world around merge now with the worlds of old.
Memories and sense turn together and unfold.
And there is nothing here worth mentioning,
Nothing here at all special but everything.
Everything in its own way.
I have looked into the eyes of miracles.
I have seen the smiles that light a thousand torches
In cities that have not yet been built and lives
Not yet been lived. I have heard the voices
Of those whose words will link together people from different places,
Whose faces will return again in memories of a million minds.
I have longed for the kisses of beauty’s queens
Who one day will make some man’s dreams.
And mine will someday come: I’ve heard this sound in many tongues.
And I must wait if that be Fate.
And I will one day find joy.
All these things I know.
And yet I feel that glow.
It’s yellow still and sick and chained.
I have looked into the eyes of miracles,
And was forced to look away.
I like it, especially the intro and the last few lines. ryn: lol, i hope so too. thanks. I’m off to straighten my room a bit and then to bed. Dan’s calling at 6 am so i can study for my 3 o clock exam that i’ve neglected to prepare for. *sigh* I need to get out of this….
Warning Comment
Hey! I’m home too! I have to get dressed and stuff (cuz I’m naked ;o)…..sick quit thinking about me naked!!!) Anyway…I’m get ready and stuff I give ya a call…It’s only 8 o’clock though, I don’t know if your up, I’ll wait longer. You can call me if ya want to…If I’m slow…sorry for….all the….dots….hehehe. Talk to ya later!
Warning Comment
Hey, i’m not home… hehehe, but i will be on monday, you span and i should get together, i’m home mon-thurs, work thurs and fri, then i’m home til tuesday, when are you going back to RF? hasta Luv nik
Warning Comment
I have a ton of phone numbers… cell…1-715-475-9703 mom…924-2181 dad…924-5997 ok? Now you should be able to get a hold of me anytime! Oh if need be…grandma…924-3579. Is that enough? Or do you want the number for Alex tech and Public Health (where I work) too?! :o) One more thing…please don’t remind me about the dream. ;o)
Warning Comment
Well usually my cell phone is the best but if I’m at my mom’s my phone won’t work so you have to call my mom’s. It’s quite the pain in my ass.
Warning Comment