Repetition

 

A young and silly child, my mother asked me to wash the dishes

I stood on the ladder and scrubbed them clean, toweled them dry and placed them away

She ran her finger along the brim of a glass, her eagle eyes not dismissive

Without sparing me a glance she said “Do it again. Do again until you get it right.”

I traced my letters carefully and tried to get them in the lines

But I was always rather clumsy, I could never get my words upright

My father was there with his critical stare as he couldn’t make out the words

So he said ‘Do it again. Do it again until you get it right.”

When I got older, I began to run – from many things, if I’m honest

And I was somewhat fast, a bit impressive if I refrain from being modest

But my coach would never cheer when he watched me dive through the finish line

He’d just say “Do it again. Do it again until you get it right.”

I never was one to strive for perfection, I truly appreciated the arts

I painted, I wrote and I loved to sketch – the passion burned brightly in my heart

I’d stay up for hours, for days even, painting in low light

Until the instructor critiqued me, said to “Do it again. Do it again until you get it right”.

When I was somewhere between a girl and a woman,

I somehow found my way on the fight for freedom

In combat boots and camouflage, I had never felt quite so lost

A man with a red ribbon across his chest watched me doing push ups all night

I always found myself crying on the floor after pushing with all of my might

And every day, he’d seek me out and make sure he saw my eyes filled with fright

And every day he’d tell me to “Do it again. Do it again until you get it right.”

Years later, I found myself working a job, a standard nine-to-five

I never imagined I’d be in an office filling out invoices in my life

But I was awful with numbers, and someone’s paycheck wouldn’t be  quite right

Until my manager told me to “Do it again. Do it again until you get it right.”

It wasn’t the place for me, and I meandered from place to place

But there was one thing that I could never escape

No matter where I went, I would make a mistake

And I’d be forced to correct it no matter how late

Yes, I hid away and I ran from my flaws

I avoided the mirror, I ignored the missed calls

How could I live in a world where I’m so imperfect?

Who could possibly accept me when I constantly fall?

But although people lie, mirrors don’t, and I can’t deny my face

I’m only human, and I’m not one of the few who keep a constant pace

I face my worst foe, my critical reflection and how she glowers in the light

And I don’t flinch the slightest bit when she says “Do it again until you get it right”.

Just a Bunch of Words or Phrases in no Particular Order.

Precious silver succumbs to rust and crumbles to dust

In the palm of my hand, I remember what it used to be and I miss your touch

Life stages change over incremental ages

The awkward sprouting of a tree on the face of a mountainside

Lost and humbled, my strong façade has crumbled

I never knew that I needed you this much

Excuses and silly reasons, lies and treason

Back and forth within our own minds all of the time

I speak for myself, and for everyone else

Who has ever had drunken words occupy a sober mind

Can you empathize? Sympathize?

Anything to seem more kind?

I think of you, I dream of you

I hate you and I miss you at the same time

I wonder who really holds my heart?

The thought of being loved, I know

But the moment you embody hope

You become the one I need to hold

Nicotine and liquor make long nights go by quicker

And my patience that had run so thin can run a tad bit thicker

My weakness is my weakness for glimmering eyes and seductive smiles

And for a glimpse at a lustful gaze, I’d travel for many miles

But I won’t malinger on my pen, I’ve exhausted malformed sentences

I had no reason to write this, but I suppose if I was sober

I’d say the same thing in less words –

And also, in less honesty.

 

My Theology.

I believe in an attentive ear that seeks the somber sound of crying in a dark and sightless night. The truth in hearing and believing a life beyond one’s own beating heart is a religion of its own. If faith is mandatory, I’d rather believe in the pensive mind that yearns for justice; a law not written by man, but inherited millennia ago from the sky.

As you believe in God, I believe in a love for life so strong that no small flower be set to a flame. My deity is the beauty of an unkempt green valley, and the dandelion seeds that form clouds upon the horizon in a hot summer gust. As you believe in angels, I believe in the mindless creatures that roam the world with hope in their hearts of falling in love – those silly things are so romantic, they brim with more hope than could ever be discovered in a mine filled with diamonds.

Your belief in heaven is comparable to my belief of a sunny afternoon under a pale blue sky, somewhere far away from the city where I can hear the cicadas and the bullfrogs. There are no gates here, just a noisy silence that raptures me in a way that no psalm ever has. I can read catharsis from the cumulus clouds, or hear a chorus in the little things that live in the loam. What we have in common? We both call our heaven our home.

But what about hell? Well, I don’t believe that exists as long as there is another day. For there are days, nights, weeks and months that I lie awake with teary eyes. There are days that I wish I could simply stop my heart-beat on demand. The heat under my skin is comparable to the literature that describes the underworld, I suppose, when I feel this insatiable need for something, for anything to bring a chill to my fiery anger, or my branding sorrow.

Although I know that it won’t be for ever. Each time I watch the clock, and the arrow hits one minute prior midnight, I know that shortly there will be another day. As the seasons shift their way around the cyclical conundrum that life is made of, one spring day I’ll see my deity, one summer day I’ll fill my heart with hope.

Even in the season of the dead things, the fallen leaves remind me of the hearth of a cozy home. Though I may brood alone, I know that 11:59 is the truest worship time. Idle and fatigued I bide the time, the sixty seconds that always drags my atheist heart out and gives it a moment to practice religion – one second at a time.

Never Lie to Me.

I don’t need your sympathy, your crocodile tears or tactically rendered remorse

Your woven lies knit of loose details, your poorly conjured fairy tales

I don’t need your empathy, summoned from the deceitful realm of your mind

If your votive is of a malicious motive, I’d rather you never be kind

Contain your sins within your clenched teeth and hide your fallacies from me

Let them die away like an untended flame, lest the sparks of your words maim

What I want is what I need direly; which you anxiously hide from me –

The bright and blue and beautiful truth.

Never lie to me.

I haven’t learned my lesson

A rush of blood through the veins

A bolt of lightning to make the heart beat again

Hot tears simmering against eyelids

Cold drops of sweat on feverish skin…

Oh, what I would give to feel again.

I gave heartache the longest break,

A thin layer of frost coated my skin

And I placed chains on all the bits of me within

That ever longed for love.

I clipped the wings of that captured dove

Soundproofed the glass to stifle her song

I doubted I’d miss it after so long,

But now I can’t even recall the sound.

Now, I don’t miss your mischief or your mistresses

I long for steady heart-beats and only tears that accompany a smile

Hope has yet to seem worth-while,

When I remember cold and lonesome December

When ice and snow trapped me with no place to go

Your arms twice as cold, the novelty of me so old

In your fickle heart.

I do dream to the sound of my favorite song,

Of breathing normally after so long –

Inhale, exhale and carry on

With no drugs or no alcohol, just faith in love.

A rush of blood all through my face

Electric pulses resuscitate

Heat of the sun when it’s finally May

Cold chills of excitement; heart, don’t hesitate.

Oh, what I would give to love again.

 

Oh Star, Die Tonight

Upon a glowing satellite I make a morbid wish tonight

With teary eyes, I hope to make a pagan sacrifice on her life

I’ve never seen a star fall, but I confuse the flashing lights of jets

In the midst of their midnight flights, but I’m disappointed by yellow lights

Hear me, clearly, white plasma being in your angelic glow

Fall down from your reign and ease my pain

Use your thousands of years to alleviate my fears

And take your brilliant heat to melt things frozen in my memories

Not unlike you, I want to be born anew

I can’t fight the hurt and lies that have passed before my eyes

I can’t wear away the scars that speckle my skin like black stars

But you… lucky you, you still shine true through the darkest dusk

You have no surface to be succumbed to rust, to negligence or dust

Though in time your flames will explode and you’ll be mine

You’ll fall so rapidly, your tail will spread for miles against the sky

And I’ll be there, I swear, to make my wishes come true

But tonight you live, and I have no use for you

 

Yet I fear the day you pass away, and I’m not there to pray

And ever worse, I fear you’ll pass away

And all of my hopes will dissipate along with your silver flame