PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I wanted to write you a little note, because there was something that I wanted to say to you, when we talked on the phone a couple nights ago, but forgot to say.

When I read your work, it reminds me of something.

Reminds me of something I learned from Hemingway, and I know I’ve said it before, but it’s worth repeating, “You’ve got to experience a lot of pain – before you can write worth a damn.” And I knew this about you – even before you told me, because your writing is honest and stunningly beautiful. And as you know, I have been there myself, and is why I recognize innately, the well from which you draw your water.

You know I love you, and I am not saying this because I love you, and neither am I saying it to stroke your feathers. I am saying it - as one soul speaks to another… from admiration. And the truth be told, I admire you above all the people I have ever known. Not merely for your creative talent… which I am certain – you greatly underestimate, but for the fine example of courage that you demonstrate… and for the beautiful creature you are – but never understood.

You never understood that beautiful creature properly – because of your duality. And I see that duality whenever I study your work. If you let your eyes relax long enough, while starring at a fixed object… the image will naturally begin to blur, and each eye will have it’s own image, and you will see two objects instead of one. Your eyes are that way, when you look at yourself. One eye, is always fixed on the freighted little girl… and the other, on the older girl observing her.

And I notice how the two of you, often make analytical observation of one another – without connecting – without speaking. Because your blurred-eye philosophy is far more comfortable, and your split image mentality offers relative safety as a defence mechanism… and you use them as a device to distance yourself from one another. In actuality, they are one and the same girl… separated only by time… and a vast sea of pain.

The older girl hates the little frightened girl, for the pain she carries. And the little frightened girl hates the older girl, for what she has done. Because of this… they are sisters that never speak to one another. They pass each other on the street… but they never get around to talking. And because they never get around to talking… they never get around to the most important work; they never get around to ironing out – the hows and the whys.

But the two must eventually reconcile or forever remain on a collision course… in the twilight zone of a disturbed duality.

It is because I love you, that I tell you this. And because I value your soul as much as I value my own life.

And I know and recognize all the traits of duality… because I have struggled with it myself.

You have a fine soul, my dear. One of the finest souls I have ever had the pleasure of crossing paths with. It is why I want to marry you, and spend my life with you… and make you my very own. Because I can think of no better person in all the world to make children with… and there is no finer material in all the universe to make them of, than you.

And whether or not you have long-term serious intentions of pursuing art – be it with oils, clay or words… I will say this.

You have a fine gift for artistic expression, one of the finest I’ve ever come across. Your talent warrants exploration… but as you know – you will need to face your demons head on, to complete the circle. It may not be for some time – that you are ready to do this. It took me quite sometime, to do it myself. But once you are ready and willing – to take that step, you will discover a power within yourself, which you did not think was possible. And with that power… you will arrive at your finest hour. And I will hold your hand and kiss you… all along the way.

Do not be afraid of pain. Pain is one of the finest fuels for flying into the stratosphere. It took me an awful long time to understand it myself. I was always running away from it. And all the time I was running away, I was only half the man I could have been. I was only half the man I could have been… because I denied the half of myself I hated. That half I carried inside, that reminded me of my father – his obsession to shape every contour, leaving no room in the clay for my own designs.

He was not a bad man – only a man possessed of a stern West Point mindset. That said, I was nearly destroyed by my childhood experience. And long after my childhood was over, I walked the earth with a head-down posture as a crumbled man. Crumbled and defeated, I had thought, because he had crumbled and defeated me – by devaluing my pursuits, imagining them to be fugacious and ephemeral. And as a result, my soul was lacerated and punctured – like a leaky gas tank… always dripping the essential fluid of life before it could reach the engine. With no power to fuel combustion, I was forever stalled on the road of life in my early years. Broken down – like an old Chevy, that sat in a lot and rusted from disuse.

But I got tired of rusting, because it is a tiring thing to do – always, feeling sorry for yourself. And I said to myself, “Self… you have two choices here. You can rot in this lot forever and wait for death… or you can get your head out of your ass and make a go of it.” Death was always a beautiful option… because it was the only one I ever considered. But then I said to myself, “Self… where is death gonna take you? Do you know where that road leads… or are you just playing a pretty game with yourself, pretending your pretty bottle of poison – is a romantic medicine?”

And when I finally looked into my soul – without deceiving myself, I realized I had been playing charades all along… playing charades with a corrupt mind. You can not make a real decision, so long as your mind is corrupted… and rusted from disuse, because it formulates all the wrong answers.

So I went out to the lot – where that Chevy was rusting, and I began the long task of restoration. And I said to myself, “Self – I will get this leaky gas tank repaired. With tooth and comb – I will go over the engine, and disassemble it piece by piece – replacing each part where necessary, clearing lines and replacing fluids and recalibrating. And I will install a new carburetor… to insure it is properly aspirated – for when I punch the pedal… because I’m gonna race this baby.”

“I will get this car in racing form… and I will worry about the finish later.”

I am still working on that engine… and I will continue working… till it purrs and the timing is perfect.

But meanwhile… it is drivable.

It is drivable… because souls are not defeated by anyone… less we allow them to be defeated by our own consent.

And that was the lesson. It was an object lesson in perspective. Change the perspective… and you change the angle of attack. Change the angle of attack… and you open up a new world of possibilities. Open up a new world of possibilities… and the world becomes your oyster.

The world becomes your oyster… because you have given yourself consent to live again.

And when you have given the consent… and are free of all the hazards you have piled up … life is stunningly beautiful.

I will hold your hand… and we will go down that road together, my love

And we will have a good laugh one-day… looking back

The shining edifice of my love – belongs to you.

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