Tuesday, July 26, 2005


There's a lot to be said for silence. It's like the softest of quilts which covers you and keeps you safe for the longest time. You may even fall asleep and have all sorts of dreams. Have you ever noticed that you rarely ever speak in your dreams and when other people speak you either forget what they said or not understand at all. You may try to speak but the actual words don't come out. That is the gift of silence.
Reminds me of a dream I once had a long time ago. I'm sitting in a restaurant. I see a man approaching me. I instantly know that he is going to try to talk to me. I don't want to speak to him so I get up and start walking out but he blocks my way and asks me something. I make gestures to make him understand that I cannot hear and speak. He understands and backs away. I smile to myself having fooled him. Smugly I walk out and find myself in an alley and someone taps my shoulder and I turn around. It's a friend. I want to tell him about the man in the restaurant but a choking sound comes out of my throat. I've lost my voice. I wake up.
That soft quilt of silence can choke you if you're not careful and come out of it once in a while and indulge in polite conversation or whatever else is available to you. It is difficult to be comfortable in silence but you can master the art of having your lips touching each other permanently and after a long long time it will become the most natural thing to be. Silent.
Now I will burst your bubble and tell you that your mind will speak incessantly and even when you sleep in that beautiful quilt of silence dreams will tell you stories screaming for you to understand them. You could try or you could forget about them with a shake of the head as most of us do.
Hmmm... that's a lot of talk from me for a change. I shall go back to my quilt and you can visit the next webpage on your agenda or disconnect.

Tuesday, July 19, 2005

Funeral of an angel

Reality can completely and utterly fail you
You can spill your coffee
And you can always end up
with the inappropriate song

You choose the correct words
And reality speaks all the wrong ones
Small joys like fishes
Can end up dying like last night

Buried in yesterday’s news
A few broken radars lost in a fight
The funeral will play itself out
When the other parent arrives

Toes and fists

And I could be found literally asking for trouble
Dying to lessen the noise in my head
Unable to bear the silence of tidal waves
From across several Oceans

I could be found trying to turn your toes into fists
Wiping the sweat off your mind
Trying to hold my pencil straight
Tying up my hair and never letting it down

I could misunderstand myself and confuse everyone else
I could run and I could slip and I could fall


If I were to stop and think too much
I may have to wait a long time to grow beyond my years

If I were to think too much
I might miss my childhood when it comes knocking for the second time

If I were to lie to myself out of desperation
I may miss the truth of my yin and your yang

If I were to stop because I’m tired
I may just miss the last bus to the other end of the constellation

If I were to feel ashamed of my lack of grace
I may have to forgo the pleasure of prancing in the rain

If I were to wait for permissions from all parties involved
I may just lose my most precious thought

If I were to wait too long for the sun to come up
I may have to sacrifice my perfect night

If I were advised not to feel too much
I may have to disregard it


The reason I exist is you
and I justify your name