A poem, by Carol DeFeo.
Used with kind permission, and heart...
I heard a sound that was never heard.
It sounded unhearable.
And, in both cases, it was the same.
They were the same.
They were one thing.
They were - they are - chaos.
And they were - are - me.
Chaos am I, chaos is me.
I am that vision, that sound...
Chaos am me, chaos is I.
Once it wasn't it wasn't
But when it was it was.
Wasn't was but was wasn't.
Once.
A poem, by Carol DeFeo.
Used with kind permission, and heart...
ask and answer. tell and be told.
inflection and affectation create syntax and understanding.
subtlety.
nuance.
spirit.
answer and ask. be told. be telling.
be heard. be listened.
be clear.
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I don't know what it is. I don't know what it was. I don't know where it comees from, or where it goes. I don't own it, control it, believe in it, want to take it to dinner, or want to shoot it in the center of its head.
It's not me.
It's not you.
That about covers it.
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Source Image Copyright (c) 123RF Stock Photos
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]]>We hunt for answers and understanding.
We hunt for reasons and logic.
We seek out places and people.
We hunt for someone that will know us - for someone that will see us as we hope to be.
To see the potential in us...
We seek to find a reason for the blue in the sky. For the hows and whys of magnets and electricity.
For the code that cracks the puzzle of DNA and god.
We hunt for acceptance. We hunt for a reason to get out of bed. We hunt for the perfect cup of coffee.
We seek out a hand to hold on a cold and wintery walk, a perfect fitting pair of gloves, and a place that we can call our own.
We hunt for humans.
We humans, hunt.
We hunt humans.
We seek and seek and seek, and then we die.
And those that we leave behind hunt for reasons why.
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In a universe of options we are this.
In a universe of similarities and limited possible combinations of elements we are this.
In a universe of expanse beyond expanse we are this.
We are stars, millions of them - billions of them, trillions of them. colliding in us, vibrating at just the right speeds, humming our own celestial tune...
We are bits of bits. Tiny specks of information that collect, gather, assemble, amass and come to a point where the data set can be more than the bits.
Greater than the sum of the parts. Greater than the sum of these AMAZING parts...
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it's not always easy to write to express to emote.
it's a struggle to be honest and open and direct.
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There is plot and filler
There is star and supporter
There is tragedy and vice
Comedy and farce
All within an instant
]]>I pasted it into Microsoft Word.
Below is the result of that Copy and the Paste:
It took my breath away when I saw it, and I wanted to share it with you.
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Sometimes I look at what I write - and I see my optimism shining through.
And that is good.
And sometimes I set about to write, and something a little less sparkly comes out.
And that, also, is good
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