Monday, August 25, 2014

the moon is nothing

the moon is nothing

“There must be something in him, something fundamental, that disenchanted people.
‘Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki,’ he said aloud. I basically have nothing to offer to others.
If you think about it, I don’t even have anything to offer myself.”

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

dark chocolate

dark chocolate

"Alienation and loneliness became a cable that stretched hundreds of miles long,
pulled to the breaking point by a gigantic winch”
Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and his Years of Pilgrimage, Haruki Murakami

i am standing at the counter
of a Starbucks
in a Barnes & Noble

i came here to buy
my small acts of happiness

there i see no dark chocolate bars
i used to buy for you at another Starbucks
that absence like the hole

resting in my chest
where you used to be
like a new book or square of dark chocolate

Friday, August 1, 2014

spoken (we swallow words like cyanide)

spoken (we swallow words like cyanide)
“We know of course there’s really no such thing as the ‘voiceless.’
There are only the deliberately silenced, or the preferably unheard.”

i did not want to be the one to say it
of course

we swallow words like cyanide
inoculating ourselves against the world

never spoken
never thought
never done
never shunned

these are the poisons that paralyze us
leaving us mute and fixed like an accusing stare

our sanctified commitment to silence
and the busy busy busy hustling of monks

filled nearly to bursting with all the unspoken
a smile painted across our closed lips

we imagine other worlds where holding hands
and laughing light up the rooms where everyone

and i mean everyone

talks freely and often like rising balloons
and huddled children so excited they can barely breath

i did not want to be the one to say it
of course because now that i have spoken

i have made you uncomfortable turning away
to find that place without me or my words