No Contact.

Floating on the orbiting sphere.

There is no contact; there are signs of life.

I can feel and hear the wind.

For me, it is the existence of life.

Contact is the peril in my mind.

I covet happiness while I sacrifice happiness.

The moon glows as always.

A blue moon only affirms the hopelessness we sometimes feel.

It is there; it is not there.

Like a glimmer spreading through an eclipsed pinhole, it is there.

We know we are there. You know you are there.

Sometimes we feel like we are not there.

Many of us feel like we are not acknowledged.

Surrounded by millions, we still feel alone at times.

Our favorite colors change with our moods.

We do not accept everyday life as most of you do.

You know who you are.

Sometimes we shout, but we can not be heard.

We whisper, to get our point across…sometimes it works.

We know when we have won, although losing can be winning.

We know how to fix it even if we do not share the solution.

We yell at the sky inside our minds.

No Contact.

If I have a good day it is not because of you or them.

The perception of good and bad is sad sometimes.

But I am okay, I am not mad! I am evolving faster than normal…I think.

I look back; we look forward beyond the shadows.

Shadows not formed by diffraction, but by reaction.

Do you really think you are alone?

Will you pray or moan, or cry or sigh, or lie?

Do we really matter?…are we just minions in the universe?

What or who made us…I do not think it is a bearded man somehow.

We are chemical reactions, like a salamander twitching in the mud.

Or are we, a Neanderthal running in the meadow?

We are all. We are one. We are many.

The conscience we have developed must exist in planetary forms.

How can we be so conceited?

The organic materials that make you and I are elements of the universe.

How can we be the only ones?

We are not the only ones; and being alone is incomprehensible!

Billions of stars…millions of galaxies…we are not alone.

The difficulty of existing is choosing to be acknowledged.

Like Pluto, we have been deemed lesser now.

Is knowledge really power? Or, should our thoughts remain subjective?

When I look in the mirror today, what will I see?

No Contact.

I really do not care what people think.

I am not a genius, but I am smarter than most of you reading this…especially the ones scratching their heads!

I am smarter than those who have undeserved power!

You know who you are…

What goes around comes around eventually, they say.

Respect those who help to spread your word.

Should I feel bad for feeling bad?

I feel good sometimes too, but I do not have to define why I am feeling good.

I know…this does not make sense to the lucky ones who do not understand.

Just remember, a smile can sometimes be disguised.

If I sing to the stars, I can relish the song in my thoughts…for infinity.

There is life on this sphere, although I am still looking for contact.

In your eyes…my eyes…there is an answer.

We can find a way through the universe inside our minds.

The journey will take light years, but I am confident there is an end.

There must be light to gray this darkness.

How can we be so different, yet so similar in our being.

Identity is a lonely place in space between the stars.

I keep floating away, but I am still tethered to my existence.

There is only one way to be found after you fall.

If you look into the mirror you will find the answer.

No Contact.

BLACK.
WHITE.
BLUE.
GREEN.
RED.
YELLOW.
I WISH I COULD BE MELLOW.
ITS HARD TO DECIDE.
I DON’T WANNA ABIDE.
I JUST WANNA BE WISE.
ALL THE TIME.
PINK.
PURPLE.
BLUE.
YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN, DON’T YOU?
ALL THOSE FOOLS.
I KNOW WHAT I WANT…
DO YOU?
I’M GETTING ANXIOUS!

SPECTRUM, TRAPPED BY THE CLOUDS.
YOUR NEEDS.
YOUR DESIRES,
HIDDEN OR BURNED IN THE FIRE.
TONIGHT.
MIDNIGHT.
LIGHTS OUT!
I KNOW WHO I AM!
I HAVE A PLAN!
I WILL SHINE LIKE THE MOON…
NOT TOO SOON, BUT SOON!
I AM ANXIOUS!

See you standing in the shade, take your shelter from the day.
Hear you praying for a way to find the answer.
See you shining from the glow, hope tomorrow I will know.
Pray tomorrow I will know the answer.

Will you marry me, take my hand and set me free?
Will you share your life with me until the end?
If I bow upon my knee, will you help me to believe…will you marry me, forever?

You are on my mind, I have to say…see you standing in the shade.
Still remember what you said…the answer.
Feel the heat inside my soul, from the shining of your glow.
Pray today I will know the answer.

Will you marry me, take my hand and set me free?
Will you put your trust in me until the end?
If I hold you close to me, will you help me to believe…will you marry me, forever?

See your eyes upon my gaze, do you know what I will say?
Are you planning to convey…the answer?
If I hold you close to me, will you help me to believe?
Praying today you will give the answer.

Will you marry me, take me unto thee?
Will you promise us a life together?
If I hold you in my arms, will you trust me not to run…will you marry me, forever?

noun
1. the act or fact of preceding; precedence.
2. Mechanics. the motion of the rotation axis of a rigid body,
as a spinning top, when a disturbing torque is applied while the body is
rotating such that the rotation axis describes a cone, with the vertical
through the vertex of the body as axis of the cone, and the motion of the
rotating body is perpendicular to the direction of the torque.
3. Astronomy.
a. the slow, conical motion of the earth’s axis of rotation, caused by the
gravitational attraction of the sun and moon, and, to a smaller extent, of
the planets, on the equatorial bulge of the earth.
b. precession of the equinoxes.

DAY ONE
The mood changes everyday with my highs and my lows. It seems, the key to survival is walking figuratively across a rickety, old bridge…swinging dangerously over the rushing rapids of life’s ups and downs below. This journey to the other side is an arduous task for me; my direction can only be aided by self-induced encouragement. Looking up at the sky always helps me to straighten-out the sometimes discouraging past. The blue canvas above provides me a perfect back-drop for the visual of time. Embedded in the picture, time sways ambiguously as the future stands still. Blue skies can lead the way toward the bridge, illuminating what can be an insidious path from the past. A bright sky is sufficient reference for me during the day. At night, the moon’s haze and the persistent glow of distant stars provide me a clearing in the darkness. The spectacular visions of flashing meteors and misguided comets get me through the night. The trailing lights flickering…clearing…my mind, rejuvenate my thoughts in a mental aftermath. You can find your way through the narrows of that streaming light. My brain occasionally ignores the electricity. Defiantly, it mutes the sparks…rediscovering the will to process thoughts again. In the end they say, you are happier though. Shooting-stars with their brilliance, surprise some: beautiful visions that may induce feelings of guilt and worthlessness. Those momentous streams of hope may also define the evolution of you, and may even attempt to solve your problems? Happiness is sometimes hard to find. The smiles and tears that are born from crossing bridges and finding paths heed the guidance and purpose you need. I need guidance and purpose too. We all must define our own happiness. There will always be a sky to ponder and a bridge to cross another day, but not today.

DAY TWO
I will not cross the bridge today. If I am inspired to do so, I will absorb the environment at my own pace. I am not searching for my confirmation, nor do I expect acceptance today. I do not want approval. I do believe in me, even though I am not happy today. I do not have everything that I want. I do have what I think I need, but maybe I do not. The sky is a broken gray…shadows run invisibly into the filtered daylight. Squinting at the openings, I can see the bridge. I may attempt to cross at some point today. The air of familiarity is reflected from the sky, nudging me out of the door again and again. We are fighting the urge to succeed today…fighting the urge to cross to the other side. I have accepted sadness for now. I am not a genius, and I know my destiny is over there…how can that not be true? I am hiding in the present sometimes; I am cheating the future in a way. Crossing the bridge helps to peel back my fear. I must row selflessly against the rushing current no matter how strong the heart beats. I must control the tide in my own way. I must not hide from who I am. It is even harder to find the path today, since the skies have darkened into lead. Storms brewing tempt me with their lightening shows, but it is not the same as a shooting-star. I wonder if the clouds are affected by the precession of my moods? To wake tomorrow in control of my emotions will indeed be a success for the moment. My soul could be enlightened by the morning sun. I could feel illuminated today if I like, or tomorrow.

TOMORROW
The morning sun is hiding behind the sky’s dark cape. You know the sun is there, somewhere. The weight of the dim sky suffocates my approach to the day. I can only breathe in between the flashes of muted lightening. Our moving planet keeps spinning with the vulnerable sky. You and I can only stare as we contemplate taking control. Imagine having the power to stop the storm. Imagine…taking control. Imagine waking up one day and saying, I am taking hold of these emotions. Control could enlighten my soul every morning with the rising sun. Precession affects my emotions. Fluctuations in the earth’s rotation may have a similar effect on my mind. If life was a straight path, I might as well be a clone marching to the cadence of a placid sky. My character is who I am, and the character within is part of the process of life. If, in my mind, I am still running wild through the night…or I am walking hesitantly into the sun searching for the truth, it is okay. The sun always knows the truth. The sun is watching you and everybody else who is staring into the sky. We all know when time stands still. The present is balanced by the future and the past; goals not yet achieved…failures not resolved. Like a leaf undulating in the wind across a crimson forest floor, we are searching for the truth, for meaning, and for contentment. I understand now; the animal’s cry deep from within the forest. I understand expressing one’s existence naturally. I understand seeking a voice undisguised or contrived for the benefit of man… seeking words surviving in the broken daylight. Hold on tightly to the shredded ropes when you cross to avoid the fall into the dark river below. Assurances that matter may cushion one’s fall offering resilience to survive another day. Silence dominates as the sun sinks into the horizon. Another day of time has passed as the night beckons. My eyes open as dark thoughts from the day close and become inoculated in my dreams of solace and hope. I will cross the bridge again when the day returns.

NIGHT
The night approaches in earnest, unapologetic like a black mirror reflecting my soul. Darkness confines my perceptions leading to positive and negative change. Sleep spawns creativity like bursting shards of light; my ideas are enhanced by electricity generated by the spark of my thoughts. Asleep, darkness envelopes my body preserving my mind in preparation for tomorrow’s light. Dreams are the precession of my thoughts resulting in a revolution of memories and premonitions. Moon-light unfolds the night pixel by pixel filtering white-light into focus. Breathe in, breathe out and realize your dreams, I tell myself. Standing on the other side of the bridge I am peering into the future, searching for the horizon once more. I will know the picture is clear when I find my focus. There is a shining beacon guiding me: a glow comprised of today’s and yesterday’s lessons in life. A scholar of living experiences, my character is on display in a cerebral museum of survival. I do not have the answers, but I covet the knowledge to enhance my life. Slowly running, I reach the finishing line before the night turns back to day receiving my just rewards and enduring my ambiguous punishments. Pulsing like a quasar my mind alters the dormant state encircling my reality. Tossing and turning, I am seeking parity in my life even as I sleep, but knowing I will be okay. Slowly and guarded, the night guides me to the day as daylight overpowers darkness. In a blink, my engine resets driving me to a new day.

DAY?
Alarming sounds awaken me. The ringing and beeping is like a warning from the night. As I wake, I think I have stopped falling to the ground. I think, I am not flying aimlessly in the midnight sky or floating helplessly like a dove’s feather in the gleam of the morning sun. Now, I am searching. I am at the top of the mountain watching the moon rise. I can see white light shining brightly, expelling the last stale breath of yesterday’s darkness. I can see stars pulsating; their reflections only present in a universe deep inside my dreams. But, it is still night. Moon brightens the scene. I feel like I am light-years away from NOW…fighting the horizon as the harvest moon peers down upon me. If I survive the night, the reward is daylight and another chance to find the truth. It is a somber mood as I lay here motionless on my bed. Rarely do I fall asleep excited, nor do I awake too often with contentment. Once again, I’ve been fooled by the moon.

MOON
The moon is like a friend…letting me know everything is all right. When the waves ebb and flow, my thoughts surge into the moonlight. Moonshine illuminates the edges of my thoughts. Solar winds tease my brain into a biological frenzy. If there is a time when I am okay, it is NOW. Now I know. I will cross the rickety, old bridge and reach the heights of my happiness one day. I will survive the night…the dark. I will find the light. I am tired of crying without tears; I am tired of wondering when I will be happy and content. It is my turn to cross the bridge to reach the path to my survival. It is me.

END

A convulsing animal escaped from the zoo writhes on the scorched street of a hot summer’s day. I am the soul witness staring through a window from the inside of a cooled building. Outside, lights flashing on and off…reflections dancing on misted glass and dilated pupils. Standing alone without allegiance to captor nor animal, I am still the soul witness. Now, silenced screams become deafening aside the crisp snap and clasp of handcuffs. Animal’s freedom dissolves into the damp, fluid of concrete. Kicking and clawing and pleading for mercy, Animal resists the zoo’s calling. A witness peering into the Animal’s eyes, I search for indifference. Camouflaged by contempt for such a disturbance, I attempt to ignore that stale smell of addiction in the humid air. Onlookers now gather as if summoned by the flashing lights and primitive screams. They watch Animal like he is the prey. His bloodied claws broken and bound by the contented smiles of his captors. Diminishing concerns fading away into the thinning streets grasp what is left of the spectacle as flashing lights gradually disappear like droplets on a fogged window. Tense air thickened by preceding events is difficult to breathe. Animal is gone…pushed and wheeled away seeping into the distance as the asylum awaits his arrival. Again, Animal’s cage awaits patiently, unlocked and ready.

I hear laughter in the distance; those faint echoes of family. I look toward the window…trying to find myself. In the reflection, I see a stranger. I can hear sadness and happiness in the muffled silence. As I sit waiting, I become suffocated with hope. I can see the sun shining through the drapes, like a beacon to guide them to the mock dining room. The warmth feels like the end of a last, cold thought. As I indulge my view with the somberness of the morning sunrise, I can see the blue fade. Sitting alone, waiting for thier arrival…hoping the celebration begins. Instead, I realize I am within a dream. I am sleeping alone. In the mock dining room, the light is dim. The brightness of the past disguises hope in the present. Sitting alone, I can still hear laughter in the mock dining room.

A flat green box upon the runner comes,
where studded holes absorb the thinning air.
With every huff and puff his last breath is near,
just one more brush with yester-year.

A rolling ball for which his work is done,
his ailing soul contorts to flare.
With every push and shove his goal is clear,
just one more step to hear those cheers.

A wide-open net beckons his shots to come,
as broken dreams appease his distant stare.
With every grunt and grind the pitch is fully aware,
the premise for mending his ageing fears.

A whistle blows to stop the running ones,
where bodies rage against time as they dare.
With every dribble and every pass, so close and yet so far.
Like tomorrow’s noon, now the playing field is bare.