Let us Read again this day,
to remove its lengths of grey
that so suddenly cloud our space.
Let us not collapse in wrath,
or be made prey to want or lack;
instead, let us rise from this muck
and know that what we are is Love.
Let us turn one, then another page,
and script luminous new fates--
one after another, to illuminate
both your, then my, face.
©2008 RA
12.04.2008
10.22.2008
Fly Doth the Fallen
It was a lump of pride,
welling inside,
that I swallowed down
this lone cold night.
I, a dire-worn sight,
standing outside,
poised in silent outcry--
so cold this night.
Then, a streak lit the sky--
I came alive,
and followed
a Falling Star
from this Life,
to its next.
And back.
Again.
welling inside,
that I swallowed down
this lone cold night.
I, a dire-worn sight,
standing outside,
poised in silent outcry--
so cold this night.
Then, a streak lit the sky--
I came alive,
and followed
a Falling Star
from this Life,
to its next.
And back.
Again.
©2008 RA
9.11.2008
The Space Between
It went down like this: a Boy and a Girl met whilst adrift on the innumerable ones and zeroes that form the Internet. He is charming, easy to talk to, has a lot to say, and is possessed of a certain handsomeness. He's not a Bad Boy. (But he's no Choir Boy either.) She's swift with intelligence, is stunningly beautiful, silently wise, and has all the right body language. (Nothing is lost in translation.)
The Boy and Girl had never met before (or had they?), but to the casual observer, their chemistry was undeniable. And in the deep shade of night, they intertwine in a microcosm of bliss.
Since their first encounter, if there's been a day spent without the other, it's a black hole in their memory. Wherever and whenever they are together, it's just the two of them. There can be hundreds of other bodies in the same place, and all will seem as phantoms soon as they step onto the scene.
Then along came Reality. The Reality that all things (like, Life, the Universe, and Everything) were in existence before either the Boy or the Girl had met--let alone formed a relationship. Such a discovery was at first a shock, and a tad disruptive to the peace achieved by the pair...Yet, it had to be. If Reality had not reared its snaked head, the couple would not know the fortitude of their bond. They would be appear strong to the outer world, yet their inner fabric, the very threads which bound them, would unravel...A couple no more.
Lucky for the Boy and the Girl, Fate was smiling upon them. That is to say, the Fate they chose for each other would rent the idea and potential for weakness out of their very makeup.
See, as he observed her smile and saunter up into his arms, the Boy knew that this Girl wasn't like anyone he had ever before met. The Girl noted the same as the Boy's awkwardness waned in her embrace.
It was in the space between that first hug that each chose a Fate for the other. Long-term. One-night-stand. Picketed fences. Dinner and a Drink. Wham-bam. No thank you, Ma'am. Any and every possibility flitted in and out of that providential moment, unperceived, until only two remained.
Perhaps it was because the Universe wasn't looking, but the Boy and the Girl both projected the same Fate toward one another.
Happily Ever After.
If you don't believe this story to be true...It may be because it hasn't happened to you.
©2008 RA
The Boy and Girl had never met before (or had they?), but to the casual observer, their chemistry was undeniable. And in the deep shade of night, they intertwine in a microcosm of bliss.
Since their first encounter, if there's been a day spent without the other, it's a black hole in their memory. Wherever and whenever they are together, it's just the two of them. There can be hundreds of other bodies in the same place, and all will seem as phantoms soon as they step onto the scene.
Then along came Reality. The Reality that all things (like, Life, the Universe, and Everything) were in existence before either the Boy or the Girl had met--let alone formed a relationship. Such a discovery was at first a shock, and a tad disruptive to the peace achieved by the pair...Yet, it had to be. If Reality had not reared its snaked head, the couple would not know the fortitude of their bond. They would be appear strong to the outer world, yet their inner fabric, the very threads which bound them, would unravel...A couple no more.
Lucky for the Boy and the Girl, Fate was smiling upon them. That is to say, the Fate they chose for each other would rent the idea and potential for weakness out of their very makeup.
See, as he observed her smile and saunter up into his arms, the Boy knew that this Girl wasn't like anyone he had ever before met. The Girl noted the same as the Boy's awkwardness waned in her embrace.
It was in the space between that first hug that each chose a Fate for the other. Long-term. One-night-stand. Picketed fences. Dinner and a Drink. Wham-bam. No thank you, Ma'am. Any and every possibility flitted in and out of that providential moment, unperceived, until only two remained.
Perhaps it was because the Universe wasn't looking, but the Boy and the Girl both projected the same Fate toward one another.
Happily Ever After.
If you don't believe this story to be true...It may be because it hasn't happened to you.
©2008 RA
8.07.2008
The Shape of Fate
You have a strength in your frame--
in your face.
Yes, you, with the smiling grace--
light up this place!
Please, do not weep or faint--
it is not your fate.
Your strength must not fade,
so, to you, I say:
Make of your faith
a solid, but supple shape--
True strength fluctuates.
©2008 RA
in your face.
Yes, you, with the smiling grace--
light up this place!
Please, do not weep or faint--
it is not your fate.
Your strength must not fade,
so, to you, I say:
Make of your faith
a solid, but supple shape--
True strength fluctuates.
©2008 RA
6.25.2008
The Minerals of Dionysus and Minerva
As our Mythology trickled over
the Rock of the Ages
it became a filtered
and babbling brook:
purified, refined, crystalline...
Only, unlike the babbler,
the minerals of wisdom--
that which made men from
Dust
and formed women from
Clay--
are but myths busted and
absent from the filth that fills us up.
From beings of light,
to light beings;
it is no wonder
we cower in fright
when we discover the self lost
on the veldt of our Psyche.
©2008 RA
the Rock of the Ages
it became a filtered
and babbling brook:
purified, refined, crystalline...
Only, unlike the babbler,
the minerals of wisdom--
that which made men from
Dust
and formed women from
Clay--
are but myths busted and
absent from the filth that fills us up.
From beings of light,
to light beings;
it is no wonder
we cower in fright
when we discover the self lost
on the veldt of our Psyche.
©2008 RA
6.22.2008
The Seven Men Within
There is a melded kingdom
hidden in man's muddled soul.
The King oversees the union
in customary steadfast silence;
by his side, the Warrior
is poised, calculated, and calm.
Wandering hither and thither,
the Lover is what is near and dear;
while the Wild Man gives his
cares and sorrows to all things.
Bobbing along, and alive in song,
the Trickster is by the wayside,
laughing with the daffodils...
And the Magician is in the throes
of an ecstasy most revealing.
At the coveted "end of the road",
the Grief Man sheds but one tear
in honor of the completed Character.
When such a kingdom is whole,
so, too, is the subject's soul.
©2008 RA
hidden in man's muddled soul.
The King oversees the union
in customary steadfast silence;
by his side, the Warrior
is poised, calculated, and calm.
Wandering hither and thither,
the Lover is what is near and dear;
while the Wild Man gives his
cares and sorrows to all things.
Bobbing along, and alive in song,
the Trickster is by the wayside,
laughing with the daffodils...
And the Magician is in the throes
of an ecstasy most revealing.
At the coveted "end of the road",
the Grief Man sheds but one tear
in honor of the completed Character.
When such a kingdom is whole,
so, too, is the subject's soul.
©2008 RA
6.21.2008
Trust in the Wind
Our Trust trembles in a dusty haze
so do the mites that feed so greedily.
We need not be swept into a corner,
left to rumble as two mumbling foreigners.
We will settle the dust that was stirred
and confirm our might when once more
we unite.
©2008 RA
so do the mites that feed so greedily.
We need not be swept into a corner,
left to rumble as two mumbling foreigners.
We will settle the dust that was stirred
and confirm our might when once more
we unite.
©2008 RA
6.20.2008
Gift to Men
Angels don't fall
with stars,
they fall with the heart.
Any man who's grown
wings knows
what it is to sing
the gift of being
graced
by winged beings.
©2008 RA
with stars,
they fall with the heart.
Any man who's grown
wings knows
what it is to sing
the gift of being
graced
by winged beings.
©2008 RA
6.18.2008
The Hunter and His Maid
Meek tales told
by pussycat tails
lead astray the Hunter
from his Maid.
Yet even should he
possess this knowledge,
still he is trapped
and crestfallen...
For it is himself
he betrays.
©2008 RA
by pussycat tails
lead astray the Hunter
from his Maid.
Yet even should he
possess this knowledge,
still he is trapped
and crestfallen...
For it is himself
he betrays.
©2008 RA
6.15.2008
City Streets
The city street doesn't sleep
and so remains ever tired.
The city street blackens feet
but has no sole of its own.
The city street keeps its secrets
and forgets them with new tar.
The city street takes a life
and is praised the next day.
The city street doesn't weep
until it's slippery when wet
and at its dead end.
©2008 RA
and so remains ever tired.
The city street blackens feet
but has no sole of its own.
The city street keeps its secrets
and forgets them with new tar.
The city street takes a life
and is praised the next day.
The city street doesn't weep
until it's slippery when wet
and at its dead end.
©2008 RA
6.09.2008
I Am a Child
I am a child of the Fall of Man. Like my father before me, and generations untold before him, I have been corrupted by the downward spiral that is war, industry, and societal and environmental masochism.
I stand a broken man, my soles full of holes...thoroughly unprepared to lead a life of nobility, loyalty, courage, and tend to the fires of a warm heart.
Unless I unlearn what I've learned, I, too, will pass on the Pain of Man--a pain of the body, mind, and soul--to my progeny. In the areas of my "genetic memory", where I possess the know how to hide emotion, "stand in line" obediently, and apathetic to the affairs of the world, I must become unlearned through the practice and application of trust, patience, and a dash of compassion.
Only by being aware of the man that I have yet to become, will I ascend from the depths of a fractured past and achieve distance from my forefathers.
Distance from the malfeasances of my fathers before me will grant perspective...the "big picture" will loom small and comprehensible on the horizon. Perspective will add clarity to my actions...there will be no internal struggle or madness. Clarity in action will "lift me higher"...I will experience the rapture and torment of growing "new wings". My ascension will return to me the missing pieces of self lost in the descent...I will be born again of Ashes and forged into a shining, glowing Stone, and will no more suffer scarred or open wounds.
My Rise and Fall are relative in that the seeds of my descent took root during when I was younger, and so I must become like a child to fully begin my ascent. I must also realize that I cannot "save my father", or those who came before...but as I progress ever skyward, I will not tread upon the old men in my life. Instead, I will re-shape their memories into stairs, so my self and others may learn from the example.
All children of the Fall of Man are given the opportunity to rise to such great heights. But many do not perceive the moment, and so continue on a wayward path to salvation. They carry on with their lives as crooked men walking an infinitely crooked mile.
One need not follow the crook, the prophet, or the path to find their way on the Journey of Ascension.
I am a child on the Rise.
Take me higher.
©2008 RA
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
Piece inspired by the book Iron John. I am still engrossed in the pages of the book, and so my self and this piece are works in progress. There may or may not be a revision forthcoming.
I stand a broken man, my soles full of holes...thoroughly unprepared to lead a life of nobility, loyalty, courage, and tend to the fires of a warm heart.
Unless I unlearn what I've learned, I, too, will pass on the Pain of Man--a pain of the body, mind, and soul--to my progeny. In the areas of my "genetic memory", where I possess the know how to hide emotion, "stand in line" obediently, and apathetic to the affairs of the world, I must become unlearned through the practice and application of trust, patience, and a dash of compassion.
Only by being aware of the man that I have yet to become, will I ascend from the depths of a fractured past and achieve distance from my forefathers.
Distance from the malfeasances of my fathers before me will grant perspective...the "big picture" will loom small and comprehensible on the horizon. Perspective will add clarity to my actions...there will be no internal struggle or madness. Clarity in action will "lift me higher"...I will experience the rapture and torment of growing "new wings". My ascension will return to me the missing pieces of self lost in the descent...I will be born again of Ashes and forged into a shining, glowing Stone, and will no more suffer scarred or open wounds.
My Rise and Fall are relative in that the seeds of my descent took root during when I was younger, and so I must become like a child to fully begin my ascent. I must also realize that I cannot "save my father", or those who came before...but as I progress ever skyward, I will not tread upon the old men in my life. Instead, I will re-shape their memories into stairs, so my self and others may learn from the example.
All children of the Fall of Man are given the opportunity to rise to such great heights. But many do not perceive the moment, and so continue on a wayward path to salvation. They carry on with their lives as crooked men walking an infinitely crooked mile.
One need not follow the crook, the prophet, or the path to find their way on the Journey of Ascension.
I am a child on the Rise.
Take me higher.
©2008 RA
Piece inspired by the book Iron John. I am still engrossed in the pages of the book, and so my self and this piece are works in progress. There may or may not be a revision forthcoming.
5.22.2008
Coup de Grace (2008)
We, being part you, part me,
sprouted from the most peculiar of seeds--
and we ain't even a tree;
we be buds of unity.
Simple, quaint, like wheat on a prairie--
the wind rustles our stalks as we tarry;
there is no stillness in being carried.
No.
No.
That won't do.
We, being part me, part you,
have never been two,
have always been one--
no divisible sum...
No mathematical equation,
not even the math of Om,
could fathom our particle acceleration.
There,
that's better.
O! thank heaven for letters!
©2008 RA
sprouted from the most peculiar of seeds--
and we ain't even a tree;
we be buds of unity.
Simple, quaint, like wheat on a prairie--
the wind rustles our stalks as we tarry;
there is no stillness in being carried.
No.
No.
That won't do.
We, being part me, part you,
have never been two,
have always been one--
no divisible sum...
No mathematical equation,
not even the math of Om,
could fathom our particle acceleration.
There,
that's better.
O! thank heaven for letters!
©2008 RA
5.21.2008
Spoken, Not Stirred
Spoken, but not heard.
Broken without words.
Loud is a burden,
yet outbursts work.
Quiet, not silent, I
speak without violence--
a sigh lost to high winds.
And if I rage, an inner Ape
breaks free of the page--
straight desecrates
the Sacred Sage's
humble space.
So goes the destiny
of a soul solely sensitive--
inside a human density.
My jaw is slack and open,
outpouring no commotion;
instead, a sign is posted--
and I come into focus.
©2008 RA
Broken without words.
Loud is a burden,
yet outbursts work.
Quiet, not silent, I
speak without violence--
a sigh lost to high winds.
And if I rage, an inner Ape
breaks free of the page--
straight desecrates
the Sacred Sage's
humble space.
So goes the destiny
of a soul solely sensitive--
inside a human density.
My jaw is slack and open,
outpouring no commotion;
instead, a sign is posted--
and I come into focus.
©2008 RA
5.09.2008
Kindly and Gently
I stutter and stumble these words that I mumble.
Before I speak, what I hear in mind sounds sweet--
yet out the words leak as thick and dumb as mud.
What for must I utter such utter crud?
You, so lackadaisy in your feminine ways;
and I, energized and muttering frenetic lines.
I look to the night when words are not lost in translation--
and we both babble in conversation.
©2008 RA
Before I speak, what I hear in mind sounds sweet--
yet out the words leak as thick and dumb as mud.
What for must I utter such utter crud?
You, so lackadaisy in your feminine ways;
and I, energized and muttering frenetic lines.
I look to the night when words are not lost in translation--
and we both babble in conversation.
©2008 RA
Common Scents
There is no attachment in a bad habit:
the scent of a woman is oh-so tragic.
I scratch and sniff, and grasp for magic;
the stars turn out, only to sadly vanish.
©2008 RA
the scent of a woman is oh-so tragic.
I scratch and sniff, and grasp for magic;
the stars turn out, only to sadly vanish.
©2008 RA
4.16.2008
By Any Other Name
The roses I attend
are hip to the hopes
I so dare to nourish;
buds of meaning
bloom and flourish
in my sacred garden.
The roses are hopeful
and blossom just
as I open up
to the supple pull
of two fools
rushing in.
©2008 RA
are hip to the hopes
I so dare to nourish;
buds of meaning
bloom and flourish
in my sacred garden.
The roses are hopeful
and blossom just
as I open up
to the supple pull
of two fools
rushing in.
©2008 RA
4.10.2008
Deep Dark Places
The deep, dark places
are hard to escape...
but when light wakes,
light waives the make
of any
deep, dark place.
This deep, dark place
is hard to escape...
but in light's wake,
light waived the make
of my
deep, dark place.
©2007 RA
are hard to escape...
but when light wakes,
light waives the make
of any
deep, dark place.
This deep, dark place
is hard to escape...
but in light's wake,
light waived the make
of my
deep, dark place.
©2007 RA
Never Before, Always After
You strike in me an
awkward innocence;
thus I speak so
awfully insolent.
Forgive me!, maiden
of the infinite--
I was made to bathe
you in wit that's intimate;
but am struck so bold,
I say the insensitive.
Forgive me!, and stay
to parley a bit.
©2008 RA
awkward innocence;
thus I speak so
awfully insolent.
Forgive me!, maiden
of the infinite--
I was made to bathe
you in wit that's intimate;
but am struck so bold,
I say the insensitive.
Forgive me!, and stay
to parley a bit.
©2008 RA
4.08.2008
4.04.2008
As With The Past, So There Is Now
The years pass like
the wind of your laugh--
energy and memory
passed as funny gas--
but who are we to laugh
at all that's passed?
We weren't meant
to grasp at our past.
©2008 RA
the wind of your laugh--
energy and memory
passed as funny gas--
but who are we to laugh
at all that's passed?
We weren't meant
to grasp at our past.
©2008 RA
3.13.2008
For What Is To Come
I have become
comfortably numb--
cumbersome in love...
I, a former flood,
am left with no thrum--
my heart lies mum.
It's as though I've
done dried up.
Are there no re-fills
for what is to come?
In my time, I've leaked
more than some...
But to this apathy
I will to not succumb;
I, a well once full,
am thus plumbed.
©2008 RA
comfortably numb--
cumbersome in love...
I, a former flood,
am left with no thrum--
my heart lies mum.
It's as though I've
done dried up.
Are there no re-fills
for what is to come?
In my time, I've leaked
more than some...
But to this apathy
I will to not succumb;
I, a well once full,
am thus plumbed.
©2008 RA
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