the months keep sneaking
up on me these days;
I remember I used to be
wide eyed and slightly afraid.
that girl, however, is a lifetime
away
in the moments when I
forgot to breathe, just
for a second or two
I have to remind myself
the simple profundity
that exists within a single
rotation of breath
inhale, exhale
you only live once
inhale–
exhale.
You only live once
can lift this weight
that is my heart
it cannot be spotted
no matter how hard you try
it needs its only anaerobic
push, reps and reps of
high impact intervals
to metabolize its deadened muscles
-inhale-
more salt, more grunts, more
-exhale-
counts, more oxygen -breath-
more fervent wishing, more
-deep, deep inhale-
to get back
back on
back on its beat
-exhale-
Well life
is, at the moment,
absolutely gorgeous
the attempt to understand life
seems a guaranteed failing
the eternal act of extrapolation of meaning
the insatiable desire to configure
its meandering metaphors into
operational spectrums of reference
that allow us to function as relevant
existences;
‘What is the meaning of life?”
if there were an answer to this question,
would life still hold meaning?
In darkness and vacuum,
every breath you draw
substantiates the truth
that you tell; time drones
away with every heartbeat,
a clock you cannot defeat;
perhaps, only gravity
can save you now
only gravity
can liberate you
stop you from spinning
out of control
stop you from spinning
out of reach and
stop, stop you
from spinning
out
of this
world
our existence is but a
tiny temporal dust
floating in the river of time
in which stars have breathed
their first and their last;
we belong to a single heartbeat
an endless cosmic dream
that we attempt to measure
with lifetimes—and we fail
for it is a dream too vast,
and too deep to be real
Caught myself a grey
little spectre, brimming
with whispers of the past,
and eyes bleeding charcoal.
What now? Now that I held
a fraction of ancient
between my fingers?
What now? Now that I held
a heartbeat strummed
many dreams and songs ago
that began to open its mouth wide,
dying to breathe
for the very first time?
I have a theory that
life is an ever evolving
hypothesis, a stubborn
conjecture requiring
endless observation,
analysis and experimentations–
while we push
and we push
for a conclusion,
if only to prove that
it cannot be proven wrong,
or proven right, we realize that life
can only be measured
through the act of living
and that life lives
again and again
through the passionate
pursuit and questioning
of itself
a bird shits on my head
trying to see if I give a damn
as if avian feces is enough
to rain on my parade;
the truth of the matter is
the world always wants to
fuck you without a condom
until you are pregnant
with its bastard child;
goddamn son of a fate
the universal consequence
of unprotected screwing is that
you live with its little baby grin
for the rest of your life
but alas
what is life but a few seconds of friction
a few bumps, a few grunts, a few cries?
you ride that life and rock it
like a boat, you suck it up,
you spit it right back in its face
because when life gives you shit,
don’t you dare give a shit in return
because why make life even shittier
by adding to its shit?
so fuck it
fuck life, fuck the world
just fuck it and
and make the best
the fucking best of it all
P.S. “a few seconds of friction” is a phrase I borrowed from Barney’s Version, by Mordecai Richler. It’s awesome.
it knows its own rhythm, its own secrets
and when all is still, it listens;
its atmosphere is pregnant with voices
it turns and receives the sun
in a tightening embrace,
nurturing the lives within its belly,
counting every single heartbeat
Somewhere Nowhere in My Kingdom 