Btw, I don’t have time
2 chat long 2day.
but I don’t want u 2 feel I don’t care.
IMHO, there is no deserving >
than u, OMG,
and I WTGP w/ u,
but TTTT,
and that’s 1 thing
I have < & <.
The SOS is going on here,
and so there is no need to
update w/ news abt. NE1.
B w/ the peeps
that don’t know u, etc.
Well, cu L8R,
OMG.
TRDMF.
KIT.
Amen.
I prefer the carnation.
Yes, the multifoliate rose is captivating,
But I find its aroma a bit too overpowering.
Carnations, while pedestrian, are unassuming.
The beauty is natural, yet minimalist.
Modern.
That will balance out the rose—
All different flowers mingling their colors together,
The way nature intended them to be.
Complimentary.
After all, it takes a bouquet to raise a bud.
She tried to cool the coffee by a gently blowing as she stirred.
And I focused on her eyes because, of everyone in our class,
Her eyes were the ones that mattered most.
Of all our fellow pundits, she was the one that had the most to say.
“Do you ever think of the corners of time?”
I smiled but stayed quiet, not sure of her meaning.
She said, “But I’ve been stirred
With these feelings, kind of like regret, for all the time
We’ve spent in class.
I know they teach us well, or at least that’s what they say,
But I wonder if we’ve ignored what matters most.
Of us are trying to get to the meaning
Of some poem or what some writer is trying to say,
There’s all this life going on just outside the window, this life stirred
By nature—I don’t know—a bee on a flower or something our class
Would never see. Maybe the slow eroding of a creek bank over time.”
Into the corner of the room, probably one that was ignored the most.
Sipping my coffee, and wrapped in philosophy, I felt so filled with class,
Like a poet in some artsy café, groping for intense but elusive meaning.
I think I understood her words, and my pride was stirred
Although I wasn’t quite sure what to say.
“We don’t see them. We look over them all the time.
But even though they aren’t the events that have us stirred
With strong emotions, they are the ones that happen the most.
Maybe they are the ones where only God provides the meaning.
They are the ones we don’t see while we’re in class.”
I noticed in that corner an ant, but I didn’t say
Anything. I just thought about its meaning
As it crawled up the wall ignored in the crevice of the corner of time.
And suddenly I knew the memories I wanted to preserve the most,
And I knew that more than coffee had been stirred.
I am unsure of most of what I say,
But remember the forgotten corners of time, the backdrop that provides for us the meaning.
He remembered—or he thought he remembered
maybe he just remembered the stories—
the time when he was two and was locked in the car
the faces of giants at every angle trying to set him free
his mother screaming silently just outside the glass—
fear confusion heat—
they broke the glass but it didn’t shatter—
put your head down cover your face baby—
all the pieces stayed together
a transparent jigsaw puzzle
the man punched it and broke through
the air came in
cool.
He remembered it for only a second at the sink
—I’m cracking up spinning out—
metaphors come to the insane
there was no logic here
—hold my breath no breathe—
all he had to do was the dishes
he fell to the floor
plate after plate fell
hurled their china shards in a spiral across the yellow linoleum
red dots across the sunny yellow—
he had wanted hard wood but—
Someone had to get in
past the panic
punch through
—insignificant so major—
Jesus come cool inside
She held his head
to keep glass
from
shattering
not knowing
it had to break
to let in air.
