Sunday, March 8, 2009

Sometimes, it's all you can think about. Sometimes, you can't stop yourself.

This is a break,
a break,
a break
This is what's happening now
Here, right now
It's not good, and it's not bad, it just is.
Orange chair, brown table, beaten wood floors
Places with character so far and few between
Going, sitting, drinking, laughing,
making letters and equations
realize the value, release the impatience
wait for the smoke break to fall on your shoulders
but deny the simple pleasures
invite the social breathers
put off the disbelievers
I am not waiting for anything
except for everything that I am waiting for
it's unrelated and self-debated why who what and where
and when it happens
if it happens, I probably won't be there.
Perhaps with a camera in hand
watching the sky
snapping the perfect moments nobody looks up to see
I will have them, own them,
mine for the rest of time
savored with the late-night powerade brigade
flipping the pages of the past
attaching meaning from since then
trying not to mince the memories and forget
them slowly over days slammed
with news and mismatching detachment
we were just wondering
how so many people came to so many places
merely wishing to see faces from dreams
and then reel back and return
to past actions and new passions.