So if you're bored at this poetry, I gotta say, sorry. It's ok, though...you can be. I just don't really know what else to write you. The other day, I tried to sit down in front of my fireplace and tell you incredible insights into what I was learning; incredible revelations I was having, but then I forgot them.
And I tried to tell you about how, this one day, we all went out on a stroll and some of us started arguing over what to call a certain tree, and then over what to do with a certain boulder, and then over what to call the aroma of the dirt we were smelling...and then we all died. It was one day, really, only one! I saw a picture of you in the sand along the path we were walking on. It looked like one of those old timey pictures of our great great grandparents with their staight faces (it was superficial to smile in pictures you know) and their pitch forks and stuff. But you looked so sad, even more sad than our great great grandparents, and it was a picture of only your head, and I thought, "I should paint this." And so I did! It's wonderful, hanging over my fireplace now. I know, we've talked about when you come to life sometimes and sit with me next to the fireplace and we talk all night about the stars, the universe and the speed of light. But you don't want to hear about that, you want to hear about why you cry.
I'm telling, I've been working on it: painting and repainting you, but tears always come and they wash away half your face. But aside from all the painting, I think I've got it: you hate being a painting or a photograph, or anything that keeps you from talking about the speed of light. I just don't know how to keep you here. It's quiet here, the silence is actually beautiful, but I've realized that anytime that silence breathes over us next to the fireplace, you want to leave. I've told you, remember, that these walls are made of the beauty of everything, but they are nothing as much as they are beauty and so you may leave when ever you so please.
Please forgive me...I don't know how to say it...basically, I'm begging you to come back. Here there is speed of light for all of us and we can remember when we died and all of the argueing was over.
"I would your worship take notice, replied Sancho, that those you see yonder are no giants, but wind-mills...." "It seems very plain, said the knight, that you are but a novice in adventures: these I affirm to be giants; and if thou art afraid, get out of the reach of danger, and put up thy prayers for me, while I join with them in fierce and unequal combat."
5 comments:
I tell ya dude. You got yourself a real gift. Can't wait for the New Years with you guys.
Is any of this about Amber?
Hey, thanks a lot man. Seriously, that means tons coming from you.
You know, I wasn't at all thinking about Amber when I first started writing it, but the thought somehow crossed my mind when I was finishing it, then I just threw it away and thought nothing more of it. I guess I was kind of thinking about me, writing to anyone reading, then I also thought, it had a meaning of God writing to anyone reading. I think it has multiple meanings really. It just kind of came out one day.
Love ya so much man, thanks so much for reading. Can't wait to see ya'll.
For the record, I'm a regular reader of your writing here too, and also enjoy it very much.
I sometimes wonder if you're writing about specific people and things, but figure that it's mostly free style stuff that flows and can be interpreted as different things by different readers (other forms of art are the same way, I consider this a good thing).
So anyway, many times this creative writing style doesn't really lend itself to comments all the time, so I read and lurk.
I ran a BBS in the early to mid 90's (online bulletin board system, what geeks did before the internet took off) where we had some creative writing rooms, and there was a rule and an understanding in these rooms that there was no commentary or conversation permitted in the room -- only the writings themselves.
I guess I really don't have a point, just that I'm reading your stuff too, and enjoying it -- even when I'm not commenting. Rock on. :-)
thanks Chaotic Hammer. I hear ya. It's really a kind of hard thing to write comments about.
Thanks for reading, seriously! And thanks for the encouragement.
eric, you're wrong! it's YOU talking TO Jesus... there is no doubt in my mind.
i love you,
your wife
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