2013

Because everyone needs a little meerkat in their day…

Day 22. I guess it took me longer than expected for me to find my way back to you. Nothing has changed except that I feel I have grown older than you. We grew up together, you help my hand when times were rough and never left me even when I left myself. We made quite the couple, you know, and now that I have come back I feel sadly that I have outgrown you old friend. I have changed Oh how I have changed but you, dear friend, have remained exactly the same. How can I let you know the things I have learned and the ways I have grown. No longer alone no longer longing but finally and completely full. You filled me for so long; you were my false God, the object of my being my worship, my praise. I don’t know if things will ever be the same, but now that I see, I don’t know if I want them to be. I want you to come with me I want to bring you from the darkness we dwelled in together for so long. Come and take this step with me and begin a new life so that next time we meet, we will both be changed and made new each and everday by something greater than us.

Day 21. My heart is consumed with the soft melodic whisper of fall; the gentle rustle of leaves as they become brittle rattling like the empty cage of bones in a harsh winter wind. I pulled apart pieces of my sweater and tied them to trees to bind the naked limbs of outstretched arms with skeleton hands to bony to find the warmth that fills winter hearths with a fire burning that speaks with the barely audible crackle like a leaf stepped on just as it finally found a common place with comrades just as brittle and lonely as itself. But the comfort of fall has been long gone this sun brings back the leaves to the naked trees the new sprouting buds cover the ties of cotton wrapped around their growing arms that I left behind on a cold autumn day hoping the trees wouldn’t feel quite so alone.

Sorry missed this Yesterday. Day Nineteen. Held in the hands of yesteryear we never would have cradled ourselves in our cold contentment if we knew, but the heart of our minds can never recover the moments wasted with empty promises of sunsets to come. Instead today we pick up the mantle of love and learn to live again in a world where Lady Apathy no longer lingers in our doorway on the worst and best days. Shut from the home of our hearts she will dwindle and die. Pick up the mantle of progress not of hindering spite; there is a whisper in the wind carrying the time of change do not let it pass you by.

Day Twenty. This frame you left to me is so hollow it hurts. Its wire is bending under the pressure and puncturing skin like the indentation left when a needle is pressed against a balloon. The burrow of contact in the fraction of a moment before the collapse and the implosion of being that once belonged to this barren body. The flesh no longer covers bone, the words cannot blot out the worst in me, and the way your eyes on me sear the curled edges of my being burns more than the hell fire of this purgatory.

Day Eighteen. Devastated by this disaster The chaos of cataclysmic clatter wedged between our hearts this vacuum between you and I looms. The day when Separated by a moment turned into lost for all time.

Day Seventeen. The woman holds out leaves of paper That fall from her hands like autumn But crash to the floor like a hurricane Without words he pulls her to him Encompassing her in his long arms she doesn’t even try to stretch her wings just crumbles like the ruins of a decaying façade letting herself be consumed by something larger than her He holds her like the binding of book Trying to hold onto the loose pages of life.

Day Sixteen. I am stuck with my face in my hands and the words everywhere but the page

Day Fifteen. Vendetta is a word wrapped in silk It encoils its bearer with the sweetest feeling It slides from the tongue in an ever-pleasing hiss The self sufficient lover of the tortured The ever hungry beast from the heart That dwells in the darkest of places Just dying to get out Vendetta is a feeling burning in your eyes Seething with hatred and a promise yet surmised It whispers tender evils into the innocent ear And corrupts the benevolence within your heart Here it is the power to take back what was rightfully yours To steal away what was stolen from Dignity, honor, and your name ...

The holiday Holi was a couple of weeks ago but this weekend at University of California, Berkeley the Indian Student Association put on a festival for Holi. Many people have heard of these festivals of color where people by colored powder and in a giant mosh pit of people everyone throws color at each other. A giant throng of people gathers and takes part in this festival each year; this is my second year taking part and it really is an amazing thing to experience. ...