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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: august 9dots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: meoww
    Elite Ratio:    6.75 - 262/258/143
    Words: 144
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 823
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 804



    Description:
       prose? a journal? whatever.


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsaugust 9dots
    -------------------------------------------


    there was a time when being lost was easy. not so much now, not so much. there was a time as well when all seemed set in place. i was happy yet uncertain.

    my mama turned fifty-three last thursday. it made me question mortality, absence, what life should hold, what i should hold inside to be that essence, and what it means to follow that river, catch that fish: survival, existence.

    days spent like this would not be happy, but it's that road thrust upon us in some way which we choose to travel differently. for me, there's a certain sense of... disconnected appreciation in that, i think. for what it is that shapes us to find reason and belief. in some way. in some way amidst all this confusion and misery.

    i want coffee. vanilla ice-cream.




    Submitted on 2009-08-09 05:48:43     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      My mother turns 71! And all I could think of is the young woman that once was and not the shrivelled crone that somehow only slightly resembles the haven of my suckling days. We are worlds apart now, much more than we were back then. And what does life hold from here on after? I guess one day I shall get dirt under my nails if she doesn't first.
    | Posted on 2009-08-31 00:00:00 | by CrypticBard | [ Reply to This ]
      
    April 10 2009

    Someone once asked a well-known Thai meditation master, “In this world where everything changes, where nothing remains the same, where loss and grief are inherent in our very coming into existence, how can there be any happiness? How can we find security when we can’t count on anything being the way we want it to be?”

    The teacher held up a drinking glass that had been given to him earlier in the morning and said, “You see this goblet? For me, this glass is already broken. I enjoy it. I drink out of it. It holds my water admirably, sometimes even reflecting the sun in beautiful patterns. If I should tap it, it has a lovely ring to it. But when I put this glass on a shelf and the wind knocks it over, or my elbow brushes it off the table and it falls to the ground and shatters, I say, ‘of course.’ When I understand that this glass is already broken, every moment with it is precious. Every moment is just as it is, and nothing need be otherwise.”

    My grandmother told me this over morning coffee before a man named Bob entered her home with a clipboard to sign her up for Medicare hospice. Each question was also a statement that she was dying and she answered calmly as we sat together on the small leather sofa she has had since my childhood. It was just as uncomfortable as I remember. Bob was sitting on the other side of the table. He was kind and business-like and kept glancing reassurance in my direction.

    After he left, my grandmother told me that her body was already broken. She has had Melanoma cancer for nearly a decade and knew just as everyone knew that it would be the end of her. It's a miracle she has survived so long and in this way life becomes precious. She opens herself up to it just as it is, in the moment it is occurring.

    April 11 2009

    My first nephew, her first great-grandson, is born.

    ***

    I'm not sure why I felt compelled to share that. Originally I just wanted to pass on the bit about the thai master because I thought it would be useful or interesting to you. I found it entwined with a journal entry of my own and figured I might as well pass it all off.

    I think journaling can be the best form of personal contemplation. You're more free to just be...no layering. I shied away from this kind of writing for a long time, but now I'm kinda embracing it.

    Anyway, those before me already commented on the attributes of the piece so I won't bother being an echo and just leave you with my off-kilter response.

    Take it easy homie.
    | Posted on 2009-08-11 00:00:00 | by Lady of Shalott | [ Reply to This ]
      I love existential angst. Hell, any angst. I think it's the most real and 'human' expression of what it is to be a person.

    And so is your solution- coffee and ice cream are pretty much the best answer to the questions of 'why' that humanity has come up with.

    It's interesting to read other people's thoughts on this- I like the idea of 'half-sorrows', and I think it's true that 'the little things' are ultimately what people live for.

    For most people, I think life is a fairly marginal decision. There's no real meaning, no real purpose, just the knowledge that we will find something to latch onto and make meaning out of. Basically, what you said!

    Is that meaningful enough to accept and move on? I'm not sure.

    Anyway- don't worry, be happy.

    Ben
    | Posted on 2009-08-09 00:00:00 | by Civilian | [ Reply to This ]
      "there was a time when being lost was easy."

    There was a time when I held liquid sun in my hands. Now, it has slipped through these not-so-flawless fingers. It now sleeps fitfully on the scorching pavement, evaporating into the solar abyss.

    "i was happy yet uncertain."

    Youth is such a fickle thing. It tells you everything is simple and beautiful, and as soon as it disappears you realize that the world is pure entropy. Chaos. It shouldn't be, but it is. It wasn't designed to be muck and airports and hot lead scalding the insides of another man. It was designed to be rainbows and birds and Love Exploding.

    "i want coffee. vanilla ice-cream."

    Me, I'd go for a Subway sandwich and Triple Chocolate Haagen Dazs.

    Anyways....just a few thoughts I thought I'd throw out there. Your piece just made me revisit some of the half-sorrows I've felt recently. The world has certainly done a good job of making everyone sad. I know of hope, and it brings me happiness, but still, the sadness that surrounds me seems to send me into an almost constant melancholy. I try to fight it off, but it's difficult.

    May happiness become like the influenza. May it spread. May smiles be infectious.

    May you enjoy your coffee and vanilla ice-cream. Me, I dislike both of those things. But, to each his own.

    ~Asia
    | Posted on 2009-08-09 00:00:00 | by AsiaticFox | [ Reply to This ]
      see, the simple of it is coffee and vanilla ice-cream. to me at least. it's the little stuff about life that goes so far. and finding contentment in the knowledge of that.

    it has been my experience as i have gotten older, that what is really important, changes. maybe because i realised this isn't forever. is there something else? does there need to be something else? do i want something else? all questions i have asked.

    life can be so full of misery. though i tend to think being miserable is a choice. we only have today. who is to say what tomorrow will bring. hell, i could get crushed by a mac truck in the morning.

    you know j, (and not that you wanna know), i suppose for me, it comes down to this...
    i don't want my last thought to be a bad one.

    like if i were to get crushed by a wave and bite the dust by way of ocean, i would hope that my last pure thought was woooooooooooooohooooooooooo. ya know?

    i am a goof. and a weirdo. but it is who i be. and these are just my thoughts on yours.

    it is a journey. and one i can say i am still happily traveling.

    stay neato. cause you are. and i like ya cause you are. (smile).
    | Posted on 2009-08-09 00:00:00 | by isabella | [ Reply to This ]


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