April 4, 2010

sometimes excess is best in moderation

i saw this moment in my afternoon on friday that i new i was manic
and that there was no going back from this moment
for an instance i had the flash of all the events of the last two months, two years, two decades that led up to this uncontrolled exuberance
still the next day i do not regret my excess but i do fear that pure creativity
that pure moment of lust in energy that you know you could fly
it will tear me apart if i give in to it
if i forget that it should not control me,
as if riding a bike and letting go of the handle bars down a hill knowing you will crash
but accepting that the wind is rushing through your hair and your smile is pure energy
that maybe, with your arms out this is as close to flying as you may come

i drank my jamesons to say goodbye to you
to say goodbye to me in that time
and now that time is over however short or long it has really been
i can only loose myself once in reckless abandon
and really only when there is something to loose myself in
my story, this story i keep writing and rewriting is one of tragedy and melancholy heartache
for each of the moments of pure bliss that just slipped away
it is true that people only like you when you are up
and in a man like me for every up is an equal part down and two times in between
my chaos, my joy is the perfect path around a circle
a cycle that continually changes
the juxtaposition of shadow and light

i can see the moment of loss when i look down at my hands trembling
shaking in that energy state
i thought of you and all the promise i felt
all the hope of beginning again when you want to know that tomorrow is worth your time today
i have this beautiful knack at suspending my disbelief
or rather lying to myself enough
to just simply believe the storybook ends any different than i know
tomorrow is always a joy if you see something there to pursue
it is pure bliss when that pursuit comes right back and chases you back
all of my life i have waited for that story book to be so uplifting
to speak and feel the love of the universe

i am not going to wait for it any longer
because in doing so i sacrifice today for a hope of tomorrow that is unrequited
my art is my love
my daughter is my love
my words are my love
my science is my love
i can still hear her voice
that audible hallucination while i was creating
in my open air loft in the warmth of my favorite september evenings
her voice was so full of that love i crave
she said i know what you are doing
i love you lucas

i thank my friends for sharing this past friday evening with me
for creating with me and for the energy of debauchery we shared!
goodbye beloved jamesons
you will not be the death of me
for this is draft one
and tomorrow i begin draft two

1 comment:

  1. Without the other images, the topmost image could lend to a lot of inference.