In a perfect world, the album would have a booklet, and this booklet would be filled with poems. The last two parts of the story only make sense, if you read the poetic interlude. One night I wrote these 21 poems (below). And what a night it was. It was a Saturday. Kenyon has what's called Summer Send-Off, where a bunch of bands play. Some friends and I went to watch the music, but we left to go make our own. We spent hours in an attic room in the KC improvising, and it was a very therapeutic experience.
But as cathartic as it was, I didn't get it all out. We went to a dorm-room, and there were people there, but I couldn't sit still, and I left without saying goodbye, which I did quite a lot. There was a woman there that I wanted to talk to, but I couldn't. I had spoken to her the night before, and it seemed like we were inching towards something, but I couldn't be in that moment.
Instead, I found myself writing a heartfelt love letter, which was the best that I could do. I dropped the letter off, and felt like I had done as best as I could. But then came the waiting, and that night, I couldn't wait. Instead, I wrote in my little blue book. Poem after poem. And when I was all done, I realized that I had still more to say, but not in my book. I went to her room, finally having the courage to say to her face to face what I had written in my letter, but I found that she was with someone else.
I quietly tip-toed away feeling deeply embarrassed. I was so embarrassed that I avoided everyone I knew that last week. I ate lunch at a different dining hall. For a week, I went to great lengths to avoid everyone. One person came looking for me. She was not the one that I had been looking for, but it didn't matter. I didn't feel so bad. For a while I felt okay. For a while we were both victims of the moon, and we both understood each other on that level.
I.
I’ve been
paying for the
same crime
my whole life
I can’t lie
to the people
I love.
I just beat
them senseless
with cruel
honesty
Watching
helplessly as they
approach
death.
A fool to
care.
II.
She’s
beautiful
And
captivating
And again
that futile desire.
Because to
love her
I must destroy everything
she holds dear.
I must tear
at her flesh,
and mine as well,
(but what does it matter?)
III.
What shall
we say children?
It’s all laughter anyway,
But there have been no victors,
Then what shall we say?
To each other?
Shall we say anything to each other?
No let us
hide and hide and hide
Who knows this struggle?
Who has
mastered hiding?
I have!
Who has
mastered this struggle?
I have!
Who has
watched as millions suffer
-all for a
word they
can’t
pronounce?
A gesture
shan’t come,
A touch that
isn’t made,
What shall
we say?
When the
moment
arises
and we pass
each other
knowing full
well that guilt
that we have
mastered
what shall
we say?
Nothing.
IV.
I laughed at
him,
he was trying to talk to
her,
but he wanted more,
he tried and tried
but he never said it
I laughed at
him,
the folly of his struggle
when there is no struggle
only fear
and he was locked by that
What does he
say?
I can’t hear anything
distinguishable
Because he can’t pronounce
anything
but that one word, and when
he speaks all you hear is that
fumbling attempt
I laughed at
him
so full
of futile strength
I cried
because it was me.
V.
Look
children,
See your own hands?
So free with the blade?
See the slaughter
Hear the cries.
We are as
brutal as we need to be
We are not
swayed but the
desperate gasps
last attempts at life
now too late
We overcame
them
We were so
precise with the blade
My children
But I am your child
as well
Laying waste
at every moment
when does the killing end?
when?
Why must we needlessly kill
ourselves
Every second we execute
so
mercilessly
the victim and the
executioner
become
one
the
chain is never
broken
VI.
Ah, now
Is this the
story?
Then the
boundaries are broken,
Tragedy?
Comedy?
Romance?
We see that
it is all one and the same
VII.
How is it
now that every sound frightens me
Will I be so
easily won?
This is mere
child’s prattle
No thought
connects
and we shudder at each
explosion
no matter that it’s felt
we shake
with each click
death
death
death
that’s all we
know
VIII.
We sat their
freezing
Just letting
ourselves die
As the icy
wind ripped and tore
We acted as
if we were having fun
Laughing so
hard
We all
wanted to say something
And every
now and then two of
us would
make eye contact and
know exactly
what was wanted
We want to
overcome this burden
but we
freeze
surrounded
by other freezing people
And we can’t
seem to reach out
IX.
It breaks
down to nothing but
abstractions
We deal with
“its” and “we” and “deal”
but nothing
else can do better
because the
constantly-moving
spirit warns
us that there
was no
return from the brink
but who’s
voice is that?
Yes! It’s
all felt,
I must
recover
X.
I sit so
calmly on the edge of my
sanity
Is it the
calm before the storm?
Is it the
calm after the storm?
Is this the
storm?
Ah, such
questions are needless
Though I
must be careful not
to get too
comfortable
Else I
should fall asleep.
XI.
I will
repair myself
And prepare
myself
A shower and
a shave
will
do
I feel
whole-clean
never
mind the extremes
I am ready
Perhaps
today the battle is won
Perhaps
not
Regardless,
I am ready.
XII.
I will meet
you in the morning
Sweet early morning
When life
awakens
Yet all else remain asleep
Save for two
We shall
great each other
We who have
struggled all night
with the question
We will look
clean
and eager
We will be invincible
and there
will be no words
for the
victory is in our eyes
And in the
morning
Sweet early
morning.
XIII.
Women,
Ye
have taught me
More
than could be understood
In
one life-time
Volumes
Ye have
taught me
With
your eyes
Full
of the possibilities
The
cross-roads are your eyes
And
the eagerness
Your thighs
Full
of energy
and
excitement
Your
vagina
rich
with the milk
And
I shall embrace that milk
And
I shall embrace
all
that is you
Share
it.
XIV.
The Ghost
The more I
suffer,
The more
invisible I become.
I shouldn’t
be surprised.
I have known
many ghosts,
But now I am
the ghost-
Invisible to
all
Moaning with
utter despair
Refusing to
let go
And know that universality
The all-too-big universe
That imprisons me,
or my knowledge of it.
My chains are so loud
But only I can hear them
The world is deaf
For I am memory.
XV.
The eversoul,
Trying to break free
The ties of consciousness
Trying to strip away
At knowledge
And find it
Itself
The time will come
to relax
And float down
the waterfall.
XVI.
Darkness,
I hear the snores in the
distance
all are asleep
at this, the hour of
transitions
I will wonder:
Did I break the chain?
Did I rise above?
Did I tear away?
Does it matter?
We will know
Soon the sun will rise
And we will know
Come, Sun,
I welcome thee.
XVII.
All this:
it hurts to even think
but soon the mind will
drown
and unity will prevail
XVIII.
Even if it’s
to be alone
The journey has made us
Stronger.
We need not fear;
We need not mourn
for
ourselves
We shall all be
kings and queens
And
love will know
As
it has in the
beginning.
Come,
say it with me:
love.
XIX.
Where shall
I end this?
Will all things be made known?
Will we find “it”?
Will we tear down the walls?
Or is that part of the story?
Need we fear
this-
A faint glimmer
of something impossible
Always in
her eyes,
Always in
her eyes.
Joy has been
made
known.
Need there
be an end?
XX.
Finally,
As we hoped,
No more struggle,
No more mirrors,
No more glass,
No more sculptures of ourselves,
No more crucifixes of ourselves,
No more misplaced desires
No more sand-castle shadows lying in
your bed
No more hungry eyes
No more desperation
No more fear.
Just an
exhaustion
A peace so pure
Sweet exhaustion
Let go to the sweet peace.
Yes,
let go.
XXI.
I will not
fight you
Because
whoever wins, loses
The victor
& loser
No, we must
transcend
this
struggle
this
voice
this
road
Go
beyond.
We
shall.
The
time
has come
no more words.
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