the heart may freeze
or it can burn
the pain will ease
if i can learn

there is no future
there is no past
i live this moment
as my last

there's only us
there's only this
forget regret
or life is yours to miss

no other road
no other way
no day but today


there's only yes
only tonight
we must let go
to know what's right

no other course
no other way
no day but today

there's only now
there's only here
give in to love
or live in fear

no other path
no other way
no day but today

don't stop believing

there are not many kingdoms left, my heart said.
but do not worry,
when i crown you wisdom in the next open field, there will be a throne and there will be a castle

the throne made of collected wrinkly sheets of music, the kind that my fingers have composed upon the roughness of your absence
the castle built of stones created from vats of water, the salty kind that falls from my eyes that i cannot bear to term tears

i believe in the disappearance of concrete, even as it pours from your mouth and your eyes

my kingdom is invaded,
but the invasion is not permanent
it lasts a long time,
perhaps an indelible impression
like the ghosts of trees we saw in new mexico from a fire long past

but there is green everywhere surrounding
hills, and dust, and sand,
creeks albeit manmade
cows albeit man fed

i am ready for the green
the sheets of music to be clean

our veins to be separate, a heart quietly beating out the songs of the past
so that i can move on to the lyric i will compose tomorrow

this is freedom, i believe.

to s.

i would kiss your hands
if i could

i steal horses in my sleep
chasing fields and fences in the dark, you know, hurdles that i don't remember in the morning

the early hours are hazy because you are absent even when you are near

and you don't understand distance unless it's physical, and even when it's physical

we are writing eulogies.


Carrie bullets out the things she want(ed) to spend less time doing.
"On the periphery of shallow time with people I wanted to know deeply"


She writes down what she believe(d).
- in feeling how you feel
- however much you need, that's enough
- a good friend cares more about the well being of the friend than the pleasantness of the friendship
- widening perspective
- in embracing the innocent that allows for bold hope
- in chasing the experiences that deepen real wisdom
- altruism with examined motives

... among other things

i have created my own mythology
haven't we all?
what are the gods and goddesses of our fate?
how many arms do they have, and how do we see them? how do we worship them, and what do we sacrifice in order to appease them?

the field below is far but soon
and i will fall in clovers and dew

the sky lingers above us
the grass beneath us
losing balance but holding at the same time
onto a truth and a peace that only within one's body can be felt
for external to us we have no ability to control peace

this is the time for exploration, i know
the places i feel safe
are not always what they appear to be

this is an exercise in growth, in understanding my vulnerabilities
that the reason why i can't let you go is because of these vulnerabilities

that in the night
at the darkest hour,
i think perhaps i am mistaken

that the only way to ever really know
is to let you go
and it will all fall away
no dew is left
and we are here, eye to eye
you to me
we to i.

i turn on NPR in the mornings and sometimes they do a report on China. in the background there are the murmurings of a language that i grew up with- heard in the womb, learned as my first language, travelled in China to chase in earnest.

i hear the familiar accents and tones but don't always comprehend. i think about flowers for algernon, and how similar i feel when i realize that my grasp of a language has slipped without my noticing.

it's such a strange feeling, to look back on theses and papers and letters that i wrote with my own words, but not be able to understand them.

i'm sure i could write more elaborately on this. but it's just a thought.