Experience through words
I want my words to say
Through gnawing pain
They long for one to stay
To drift around you
A wayward wind
To be your sky painted blue
To feel the heartbeat on my chest
Warmth forgotten in a distant past
Soft touch over the mountains crest
Lines on paper
Fire nearby burns
Precious words soon to vapor
Nuisance, all the shades of gray
Watch my letters go down the drain
The signs are clear as a cloudless day.
-A.Garcia
An unbearable weight
On my chest it waits
An elephant on a twig
Earth on a wooden swing.
That’s how it feels
An unbearable shrill
On my chest it waits
All the words that have a crooked gait.
-A.Garcia
Been enjoying these free form spewings of nonsense. My silly little rhymes and prose that come out with no pretense. Words I hope may have some mischievous wisdom in them for you. Some pieces taken from notes in a journal, riddled with incoherences and contradictions. I fear someone will see them and think they were written by a madman. Each letter, carrying weight beyond its size, an alphabetical army ant.
Also sprinkled here and there are manifestations, yes, manifestations. The deepest desires that I know will come true. So I hope, that they will find a way. It is what my fingers in writing want to communicate to my mind anyway. Hoping to form something out of pure energy, atom by atom until it forms a full corn kernel. It’ll pop one day under the volcanic heat of my heart, into a piece of popcorn, a quantum energetic popcorn, that i’ll throw in my mouth and hope the knowledge has no way to ever come out. For what reason? I do not know. Maybe it’s a control thing. To be able to tame something, even something atomic and energetic, like our soul. Much of what we experience in life is hilariously beyond our control. There is a shackle on our minds that do not let us see much, perhaps let us glimpse only a fraction of a precious illusion.
A massive beating could form out of nowhere, a giant club on your beautiful head from an ugly troll, is more likely than our illusion of control. A mystical creature is more likely to rear its head and pummel us whole, than for us tiny little humans to have some sort of domination over circumstances. Especially ones outside our inner world, it’s a fish tapping its head in a neural fishbowl. Because that’s one of our biggest fallacies, that we can restrain the spirit of what surrounds us, knowing eternity salivates to swallow us whole.
I did warm you before, long time ago, and once again with these words, coherence isn’t much of what composes my brain and form. And what exactly is it that i’m trying to tell you? That maybe, that which you call destiny, or a gods whimsical ways, is an excuse to give agency to something other than our own souls. Our magnetic fields thrown in disarray.
Because when you reach inside and wonder why you don’t do what you must do, why you don’t express what your heart wants to spew, and you wander through life callously thinking the outside will give you the big breakthrough, you fail to realize the only control you wanted must come from the spirit inside of you. Or is this ultimately gods folly? Is it even possible for a god to have follies? A god tripped up in absurdities of his own. Hey, why not look around you and let me know.
-A.Garcia
‘Actions speak louder than words’,
the saying speaks for itself.
But more importantly are patterns.
Pay attention to patterns; in and around you
It’s words, actions, and patterns
Patterns speak louder than words.
– A. Garcia
One O nine
One O nine
Set of numbers I see all time
Catchy tunes and perfect rhymes
Could it be something sublime
One O nine
One O nine
A message that seems divine
Is it the number to the light in her eyes
Behind the curtain there must be a sign
One O nine
One O nine
Be sweet to me this time
-A.Garcia
A malfunction brought us here. An electrical discharge, way back in ancient time.
It’s all one big story with nowhere to go. There is no end. There is no beginning.
It is a cycle that repeats with voracious intensity, insisting to teach something; if only to be in tune with that frequency. Something is definitely in malfunction. A button pushed when it shouldn’t have. A door stayed open when it was better off shut. Swallowed whole by a giant black hole, we’ve tumbled into the profound and now are dust. Our misled desires tricked us with pain. In the eternal timeline, it’s impossible to move without making a sound, waves created with every thought, not possible to contain. Awareness alone is disrupting silence, leaving no sign and thickening the plot. Story says, that was the only way.
Eternity not enough to make up for the giant detour, a new reality is needed to stop going astray.
Stuck in this enduring story, with nowhere to go, a new existence is being traced out. Deep in the malfunction possibilities reign, because in endlessness, creation is bountiful, not merely clout. All along the way you will find more than one clue. In the emptiness, breath is exhaled, every mistake turned into something new. Our strongest wish, to be, is awarded a million times over, cascading, overflowing everywhere, like that misty, morning dew. Officially, existence is waiting, the answer we have to our plea. A tidal wave of possibility, frenzied with appetite, like the fury within a raging banshee.
So that story, the one with nowhere to go, is just a circle, where much we repeat, but much we see coming. Flower by flower, going along once again, the bee feels its hunger. Lessons learned, possibilities opened with every single choice. So with malfunction and all, that electrical discharge back in ancient time, by a spark of luck let us all be.
-A.Garcia
A path chosen took me where I did not expect it, dead-ends riddled every turn, concrete walls high as old growth forest trees. Such a terrible heartache, I felt stuck looking for an exit. The outcome different in my mind, perplexing beats of my heart, longing for a gentle breeze.
Stuck in a wandering mind, the path I kept choosing was one I believed would set me free, take me to a desire that burned inside of me. Other paths crossed my way, but I just said, “maybe another day.” As the saying goes, “the trouble is, you think you have time”, and it kept passing me by.
A patchy green, moss covered path became my life, rigid in choice, stuck on outcomes, and not the road. Next to the path, sometimes moss, more often dirt, a river flowed, sometimes cold, sometimes warm.
The icy waters crossed my steps from time to time, the icy waters where fishes swam. Tired of longing and unrequited eyes, I wanted to jump in the current, think no more and have a good cry. I stepped in and slowly let go, diving deep, lack of air was never in the plan. Wet myself from head to achy toes, welcoming the icy flow. Clear waters, always sweeping by my side, grounding a racy mind, heartbeats slowed in tune with time.
I know a choice was made for me a long time ago, a distant precedent, way before the big bang. Trust was key and in my past I did not know, to be free of outcomes and just let the river flow.
-A.Garcia
I see a ray of light that comes in through a crack in the drapes. It pierces the darkness, minuscule motes of dust float amongst diagonal lines of shine. It doesn’t seem real, whatever real is.
What is reality anyway? Is real, or reality, that which we perceive with our senses, or what is chosen to be objective? Is it agreed upon notions? Concepts that what is around us is authentic and tangible. Real; a word that seems elusive, it doesn't hold the sustenance it had before.
Now, what if we all agreed to not take what we perceive as there or here, we can join hands and exclaim, "nothing is anymore!". Would we all evaporate into atoms, a charge that could somehow emit photons? Puff! Back into the realm of the outer universe. Is that what beholds my sensations, that light is another humanity that puffed into energy. Would it really be that easy, just every single human holding hands, hoping, praying that reality is no more. I don’t know, seems like it would be an interesting experiment, someone should take that up and give it a try. Doesn’t seem so bad, it sure would relieve a lot of pressure.
Anyway, back to light. Is light just brightness? Traces of electromagnetic radiation, and all that madness. I do appear well within my senses that I'm as far away from being a physicist as I am to being a horse, so take the frugal words exuded here with a grain of salt, or a spoonful of dirt. Quite frankly, it all seems like magic, so please do not kill me over such an oversimplification.
So, is that it on light and its definition? Is that the final term. A conclusion with no argument or defenses.
Could a song be light? Some tunes do tame the darkness.
Could it be love? There is certain light-ness to it and holds the power to bring some out of the shadows. Only some though, and I do sure hope my turn comes to step out of darksome.
What is light to a blind person? Can a proper description be enough to capture its essence.
What about light for the painter, when they use the color white, or yellow, or whichever they choose to represent the dazzle of a star's brilliance.
How much could I go on to find the perfect expression, to define the dawn, that after a night with no moon ends, it brings perfection. When the horizon is dressed in colors produced by light's reflections. I see the traces of luster that come in through my window, and think of the brilliance the dark universe sends with no questions. It seems that permanence rules on a scale that dwarfs all perceptions.
And, annoyingly so, I keep finding spells and rhymes that leave me knocking my head with no answer. It can't be helped. Such as when I look into eyes that do not glimmer back with affection. Because there is a light that shines in two magical orbs, stuck inside a head and mind I wish to know, the light I wish to see and it does not show.
-A.Garcia
It happens; the sensation when you hear a song that astonishes the very depths of the soul. The rhythm in tune with your mood, heartbeat in sync with percussion. It demolishes feelings, crumbling an already fragile psyche.
And you are left craving more.
The lyrics both haunt and elevate you, seeming ethereal. Focus is hypnotized, the hijacked neurological faculties mesmerized by the shear force of musical notes. It’s on repeat, staying on track, constantly pounding in the canals that run through the ears, a heart perceiving that perhaps you will never have this pleasure replicated.
Such as love in the midst of a deep, dark lonely well.
Nevermore will a sound so exquisite bless the senses. It melds together with such perfection, you’ll wonder if the spirit died and it’s dancing in heaven. Such harmonies must only be reserved for the gods, right? Oh, what a blessing.
You will never feel the same again.
But then you do, another song meanders into your spirit once more. On a journey through the mind, it lodges itself deep in the vessels that carry blood through your core. The heart! It’s on fire and it can feel again! The sensitivity to a tune you accepted would stay foreign. It happens; the sensation when you hear a song that astonishes the very depths of the soul.
-A.Garcia
First quarter moon
It’s your turn
I send you prayers tonight
A flower I want to see bloom
Just one thought
One blessing
May my heart’s wish become true soon.
-A.Garcia
Think I must’ve been tripping
No other way to describe it
Heart hectic like a woodpecker
A sweet nectar that is intoxicating
The warmth on my hand
I knew it all just had to fit
Smooth lips that beckoned
My soul had a big bang
Heart raced forward
Bursting through blood and muscle tissue
It sprung wings and raced towards erudition
An hallucinogenic spell made of a word
Oh, lord almighty
Save my soul from all that is vicious
The sidereal like fever of affliction
Guide me, holy ghost in a translucent nightie
Found my hands white from gripping
Found a way out of this rationale prison
Found a path that led to acceptance
Even if it felt like I was tripping.
-A.Garcia
Is it our time?
To indulge and give in
Just one look and all of it is gone
The grime
The never ending fright feels like a crime
These walls are star high
Cosmic dust covers them whole
The power to knock them down
Came in the form of a smile
Still wondering if intervention is divine?
-A.Garcia
Deep attention to what you say, my friend
Words are spells
We throw them around with no care
Watch what you say again
Spell it out with intention
Because most times
Our actions do not mirror them
-A.Garcia
I just want to live nice and slow
Walk down lonely roads
Listen to music for the soul.
-A.Garcia
Life has no inherent meaning.
I do not find that statement cynical or disillusioning. On the contrary, it feels me with hope and wonder. Even when existence can be bitter like the cheapest rye.
For if life has no assigned value, no simple definition, no mathematical formula that can sum it all up perfectly, then it means it’s flexible and malleable. An extended hand always willing to say hi.
A mirror reflecting infinity, a labyrinth that fulfills an ending full of surprises. And it bends, it twirls upwards like a vine climbing up an ancient oak tree, an oak tree that goes on forever into the sky.
-A .Garcia
Reading through my notes realization smacks me in the face,
it is riddled with contradictions
A messy mind set loose on a screen,
on paper and all around
I don’t even care anymore if what I write or say makes any sense, when in the mind’s eye it all arranges perfectly,
no matter how it’s bent.
And maybe I write all this for dramatic effect,
that although I’m as confused as a horse on a balcony,
puffing to release the pent up breath in me
trying to make sense of all the cacophony,
knowing full well the feelings that still remain,
sentiments that will never change.
Hoping you read this one day,
to sway you
convince you
any of you
that confusion discourages at times,
it's hard to let what's inside flourish
hoping your path crosses my way
-A. Garcia
I do not call myself a poet
Or a writer
Or a smith of words
Even though I like the sound of that in particular
Hammering away at an anvil of the mind, forging elusive words out of nowhere.
I merely place heart and soul on paper or a screen.
I speak of my heart’s desire.
Do not look for truth in what I write
Or fact or whimsy
Do not look for answers or solace for your soul here, my dear.
I only know of anguish and fear.
-A.Garcia
I love walking
I love reading
I love writing
Still I struggle to do these, to accomplish one more step, one more chapter to read, one more line to jot down.
I love my friends and family
And I don’t tell them enough.
Why must I be so cold, if warmth runs through my soul.
I fill the days, fill the time and space with stuff, fill my head with not much substance, mental pillows, it’s all just fluff.
Is it like that for the rest of the world? For our feelings, our guilt, our joy, our love
For everything we’ve been bestowed
We love so much and do not show.
– A. Garcia
The sun is shining again today
The sky is painted with hues of orange and red, the trees reach up and match the color above.
Wind lightly blowing, crisp and firm
Cheeks rosy-red from an ice cold shower
My friend the sun helps darken their color
It’s so peaceful and zen
Richness is all around and all within
What else could we ask for in this heavenly bliss?
– A. Garcia
A room, all must and dust
A thousand pictures adorn the wall
Ten thousand memories grow old
Once high and mighty
Now leaves you crying
The site of it all makes you want to fold
Into a million creased lines
Sharp and cutting
To dig deep and let it out
To let go
A series of recollections
You just don’t want to hold.
– A. Garcia