true
what next to procrastinate my reading assignment... shall it be a discussion of 81-year-old ousmane sembene's newest politically charged film, moolade -- about female genital mutilation... or perhaps a rough-and-ready retelling of the 3-course-meal (seafood, strangely mashed potato salad and chocolate chip icecream) i just shoveled in without regard for taste or timing in order to sit here and ruminate about the stomach ache about to happen... or maybe something special... something... something... different... something... about you out there...
today when i was waking up (i've not been feeling a hunnert percent lately) chark was flitting in and out of my waking dream. not chark the woman, but chark the sensation. strange, maybe, considering i'm not sure exactly what she looks like. but that's not important. laced among this charkeyness was a long-ago love... we exchanged words i don't remember and he kept busy at something i don't recall... but the feeling was all charkblog, filled with a muted tenderness, a questioning... a little absence-filled presence. beauty and search. it was a dreamscape powerfully full of a loving distance between me and him, not to be overcome but understood. it was near-meloncholy. it was near-smile. and when i woke up we, all three, were close -- and yet more distinct. we each are unique and far apart. i understand this. (somewhere too there was a delicately pink woman, naked, with taut nipples and a palpable joy. i leaned against the door jam next to her, our upper arms touching, wondering. just looking and sensing and wondering.)
what happens when i let the secret out of the bag--that i think (is a dream a thought?) beautiful missing things about a former love, about my new friend chark? are they thinking about me? is that the power of coincidence? is that the power of thought? is that the power of being made of the same human stuff -- dust and whatall blowing all over the god-crazy universe?
i read a quote once of rumi: "lovers don't finally meet each other. they are in each other all along."
some people say there is no truth. i say it's there, in your bones. just break one and you'll feel the ache of it. truth. and your sisters and your brothers over there, down the street, in those crazy clothes, speaking those kookoo unrecognizable languages -- the same ones you've never really reasoned were human exactly like you are human will say at the instant of the break, i understand your pain. i know you. i recognize you. you won't hear them say it, you will see it in their eyes. you will read it in the curve of their bodies. the language that comes before words. the truth before the truth. the deed before the verb.
what next to procrastinate my reading assignment... what next...
today when i was waking up (i've not been feeling a hunnert percent lately) chark was flitting in and out of my waking dream. not chark the woman, but chark the sensation. strange, maybe, considering i'm not sure exactly what she looks like. but that's not important. laced among this charkeyness was a long-ago love... we exchanged words i don't remember and he kept busy at something i don't recall... but the feeling was all charkblog, filled with a muted tenderness, a questioning... a little absence-filled presence. beauty and search. it was a dreamscape powerfully full of a loving distance between me and him, not to be overcome but understood. it was near-meloncholy. it was near-smile. and when i woke up we, all three, were close -- and yet more distinct. we each are unique and far apart. i understand this. (somewhere too there was a delicately pink woman, naked, with taut nipples and a palpable joy. i leaned against the door jam next to her, our upper arms touching, wondering. just looking and sensing and wondering.)
what happens when i let the secret out of the bag--that i think (is a dream a thought?) beautiful missing things about a former love, about my new friend chark? are they thinking about me? is that the power of coincidence? is that the power of thought? is that the power of being made of the same human stuff -- dust and whatall blowing all over the god-crazy universe?
i read a quote once of rumi: "lovers don't finally meet each other. they are in each other all along."
some people say there is no truth. i say it's there, in your bones. just break one and you'll feel the ache of it. truth. and your sisters and your brothers over there, down the street, in those crazy clothes, speaking those kookoo unrecognizable languages -- the same ones you've never really reasoned were human exactly like you are human will say at the instant of the break, i understand your pain. i know you. i recognize you. you won't hear them say it, you will see it in their eyes. you will read it in the curve of their bodies. the language that comes before words. the truth before the truth. the deed before the verb.
what next to procrastinate my reading assignment... what next...
posted by stacy muszynski at 9:07 PM
5 Comments:
I didn't expect that....what a wonderful post of swimming with charks. Her last two posts, the full moon, and that dust you speak of.....must be the truth. I was there too, watching your upper arms touch. I tell you that was really, really good?
definitely yes... yes... yes!
Oh my God. I just let that one...and the comments wash over me with the most powerful force. Thank you.
guys, yr... well...inspiring.
Hoo nelly! In this post, there are more delicious morsels to chew on than...than...the entire menu of an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet. And no MSG.
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