Friday, March 27, 2009

Elevated

Elevated.

Di closed her eyes to shut out the lights, the music, the people—the blur.

She had smiled as they lifted her, carried her, passed her toward their center.
Laughed as they perched her on the black office chair.
Raised her arms, joyfully, as they worked into the spin.
She watched them stare into her, enthralled. She felt their expectation; their anticipation. Arms stretched, eyes to the sky, she poised for flight.
But first, one last look. She glanced back for one more smile—one last push—and was greeted by blur. Nausea. Color trails. Imbalance. She was alone, in the midst of their admiration.
Anxiously, she turned her stare upward, to the sky. To the cold ceiling. Held captive. The lights flashed—yellow, green, pink, purple, blue, yellow, green, pink, purple, blue, blurring enmeshed chaos of yellow, green, pink, purple, blue. All she could see were these five colored lights; but no illumination. The darkness of the place consumed her. She longed for an object, a corner, a picture to ground her—but all she saw was yellow, green, pink, purple, blue, forever flashing, forever cycling. She was filled with longing, overflowing, until finally it took over her entire being. There was nothing else. She lost the will to fly.
She screamed. She begged for freedom. Her arms fell. She collapsed slowly. Curled into the spinning chair, grasping tightly to its arms. They stared. They worked into the spin. They admired her vulnerability. They smiled, unseen and unknown to her.
She longed for solitude, grounding, stability. She lashed out—screaming, kicking, hitting. Anything to make the spinning stop. Concerned, they spun her faster. They began to scream, in a chant, “FLY, DI, FLY! FLY!”

Di was emptied. Numbed. Sick.
She felt nothing. She watched the blur. It became familiar. She stood tall, spinning. She faded away.
The riot became her silence. Music full blast, hardcore sex and violence rapped into their chant. FLY. FLY. FLY. She smiled cynically. Laughed in rebellion. Everyone knows—no one can fly. They were easily swayed, like children. She’d fooled them. She’d penetrated their weakest parts, entered them, changing them, manipulating them into service. So they’d forever elevate and spin. They’d keep spinning, and eventually they’d forget what they were spinning for. They’d be spinning and watching because that’s what they do—spin and watch. Believe. Elevate.
And there she’d stand, elevated. Spinning. Forever.
Above it all, caught.
She smiled. She raised her arms, turning her glance upwards. She laughed.

She felt numb. As thought she’d fallen asleep, spinning. She no longer realized disorientation; forgotten the feeling focus. Her heart went cold
Deep within the darkness, her eyes now forever closed, she’d forgotten why she was spinning. The people beneath her ceased to exist. Their faces bobbed blankly with the pulsating bass. Empty, unfeeling they turned into the spin and forgot who they were, what they were there for. Awe-struck dumb their bodies rubbed together, leaning side-to-side, drawn by the deep pulsating rhythm of the bass.

Out of nowhere a piercing slit of white light came blaring through the darkness, stunning the blinded crowd—distracting the spinners. The music cut. The spinning slowed. The spinning stopped. The crowd ebbed dizzily, eyes closed, moaning. Di finally felt—nausea, intensity, LIFE.
And from the bright white light came a shadow, as tall as the light itself, entering slowly and with purpose from what seemed to be a warehouse door, standing 25 feet tall. But the shadow was alone, its owner unapparent, as though it owned a piece of the light itself.
Eyes still burning with change, no one could make out the young woman walking steadily, pupils dilated, focused only on Di. As stunning as the light itself, this woman’s dark complexion starkly contrasted the brilliance within and around her.
As she stepped closer her shadow grew, looming over Di standing still unknowingly, perturbed, intimidated. Then the music returned, softly this time, words caressing, “Strength, courage and wisdom, it’s been inside of me all along,” lulling Di into curiosity, comfort. Then strong hands reached up for her and she leaned hers onto strong shoulders, feeling soft, beautiful black hair nestled between her fingers as she lowered down onto the floor.
Suddenly grounded, she looked into light-brown eyes and recognized the face of a woman from her past, from a time when she loved freely, intimately, joyfully. Staring into these eyes, those of a familiar stranger, she was stunned by the woman’s beauty. Her smile was stern, gently intentional; framed with full lips pursed lovingly, heart-shaped. She had the face of an angel of Indian descent, 5’2” tall she rose above them all with sensibility which re-rooted them in the present. A light-brown, thin, slim-fitting sarong-like shirt fell loosely about her shoulders, flowing down below her wrists and onto Di’s arm as they headed slowly outward, hand in hand.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Love

The light changed from red to green and they bolted forward together, hand in hand, only looking back to remember the intersection of origin. Leaving the cars and lights behind they entered a world of nothingness full of colors and natural sculptures, fading gently around them. Dancing in the wind, the trees leaves fell on their foreheads with pleasant blessings.

They walked in circles, in ovals, in pentagons and lines, moving forwards and sideways and into each other. The trees watched. The rocks watched. The sun smiled down on the airy water, the watery air as it enveloped their everything. Almost suffocated, they looked to each other and found life in air and water, sunshine and moonlight.

One night when the sun went down, full moon rising around, surrounded by a ring which haloed their night. Lost in every nothing they stared with blank intensity into the night sky. Lying in the night questions were left unanswered, meaningless. Meanings became everything but nothing, and hanging from a tree she met she with eyes full of nothingness. “I love you, I think I love you” and their bodies met, upside-down entwined. “I know I love you” and they came together, knowing every nothing that never mattered.

Don’t let me lose you.

But I never can, I never will. The ring around the moon imprints itself, my memories of your upside-down love, your right-side up love, your love that is everything to my nothing.

The sky is endless but upside-down the ground is my sky. Grounded in a tree I see nothing but concrete and you and the ring around the moon is imprinted on your face, your eyes, my heart.

They left the night and walked on into nothingness, hand-in-hand, each inside the other.
-----
Nothing can last forever, and only nothing. You guide me into nothingness and it’s become my everything…my everything will last forever.

They opened their hearts with closed eyes, walking to the water side. Stopping where the rocks dive in they looked up, down, over the water. The writer looked on into the beauty and underneath it, filling the empty spaces, imagining the deep.

But the artist, the artist appreciated every curve, every color, every twinkle and filled the moment with self. The artist became the moment and was filled with it, without wanting. Then the writer looked into the artist, beneath her gorgeous exterior, and was filled with her, overcome with unwanting appreciation. The moment came with satisfaction, with inspiration, and exploded into sudden desire.

Filled with wine and beauty the lovers met, the artists intertwined, the moment melted into them and they became the moment.

Each covered in the other, they created and were tainted with each other. The writer said, “my words are made of you” while the artist stared back, knowingly, “Everything I do, you make better.”

Abyss

Within melted, waxed over walls, down deep in the darkest abyss she sits quiet, empty. Minded only toward outer beauty, focused upward toward escape, toward return.

Within the abyss life slows, quickened moment-to-moment flies endlessly by; forever focused outward, never noticing the waxing, waning, wanting walls caving slowly on this empty mind. And if the moment slows directed she never stops to notice difference—details situation changes but she never falters, never phases.

Lost in the abyss one wonders whether she knows her situation, location deepening within her focus as energy ebbs and flows, pulsating outward. Pulsating avalanche wax torrent covers her eyes, sealed unnoticed focused outward, forever outward to the sunshine…trees and leaves untouched with hands burning, unfelt in waxing lava now covering her, filling consuming and

nothing
ever
phases

This moment

My story is yet unwritten.

Chapter by chapter I live in the present-tense, the result of days gone by. Flying in tune with myself and possibilities I realize that I cannot be only my history because this is who I am, and now this, and now this.

And each new moment brings new possibilities, endless opportunities for me to be everything I've always dreamed.