Socrates

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Socrates

Some people

Cannot let the silence dance

In the gaps between the conversation

That harbor a deeper intimacy

Than words could let us know.

Afraid to shed the dream-words

That never seem to bridge the void

Between the different speakers

Speaking their different lives,

They think they cannot reconcile

Gazes that do not meet in conversation

So they fill the space with words

To create a common ground

But the ground falls under foot

Of those who ponder words in the silence

That follows their pronouncement

And lingers in interpretations.

If only they would cease their thoughts

That strive to avail them of discomfort

Found in the uneasiness

Of not knowing what the other feels.

Only then would they smile in silence:

For the love that awaits them there

As two people feel the understanding

That the most important things must remain unsaid.

Sign/kilowatts

Sign

Left

in the lurch

           

            Time

       flies

                        By

            Free for

the taking

                        But

Words fail

of their own account

            To redeem

               Themselves

                   In the

            Wake

            Of their

binding reality 

Feelspeak

And some days I even think I could understand such things...
Feelspeak
Some days poetry flows from the tounge:
A feeling that rushes over me.
Lips appointed to speak the sentiment
Of thoughts that touch their every second.

Some days my words dissolve into the voices of the crowd:
Superfluous thoughts
That drift towards their disappearance
Like tears that meld with the rain.

Some days I fight for words I cannot say.
Like a wintered city wrapped in silence,
Yearning for its morning life,
Stands empty in our sleep.

Some days I translate the silent langugage
Given by the future as it slips into the past
And leaves a trace in the words I speak
That barely points at what I feel.

Exercise

Note: To get the full effect you must print this poem out and hold it in your hands

Exercise

The poem,

In the hands of the reader,

Marks the time with rhythm 
Which holds the words 
That point beyond the page. 
   
Like the rising sun 
Which gives the earth its first light, 
You give the poem to the mind
That finds you in the page 
When it points to its beyond. 
   
But yesterday still beckons 
The mind that contemplates 
The poem that gives the invitation  
To leave it all behind…

Dance of Silence: To understand signs, you must look past them

I have two kittens whom I adore and love to pet.  They're very frisky and play with me and each other often.  They love to chase around the red laser pointer dot.  It's probably their favorite game and they've come to recognize the sound of me picking the pointer up (it has a key chain which jingles in a certain way).  Sometimes they look for the red dot and can't find it so I point to it.  Being cats, however, they don't understand the significance of pointing.  Rather than look in the direction I am indicating, they stare at the tip of my finger.

Don't be like my cats! Look where I am pointing!

Dance of Silence

Between the words we speak,

The ambiguity asserts itself

In the lack we try to conceal

Through the flow of conversation.

Here truth always lives anew:  

Dancing from one lie to the next

Escaping the stability created

By arguments that struggle to their next conclusion.

Absorbed by these false summits,

Meaning slips away

As we look past its fleeting visage

Towards the endless climb ahead.

But these lies give understanding

About the truth they conceal:

About the falsity of our self-imprisonment

Within the differences we’ve created.

So when I tell you this love is infinite

Do not ponder the meaning of the words

But let them go in silence:

Free yourself and dance with me.