cooljimmyd

The Barge and the Language of Currents

Life is a war
between love and freedom
and freedom always wins.

In the path of nature where telos
is chance and endurance
the cumshot always divulges
greater structures who float and dissolve yielding
greater structures who float and dissolve yielding.

And so in darkling golden light
barefoot
I make my way again to the waters edge
where a barge floats
on which leans assembled the
awkward structure of desire
dream and memory and the
twining hallways and
dark colors of paint, chipped
and tables with dusty legs
and rooms smoked with incense
and all in all a thousand faces
comments promises hopes and failures.

People are running out of my
nose and ears and finding
their cabins among the
shantytowns the garbage cities
the stitched together architecture
of waste and disappointment
which lures me in so often
when I am just walking in
an afternoon rain striving
to be more than myself.

They are laughing and winking
over their shoulders as they run
"I loved you as much as I could!"
I stall with sadness
"I also as I could loved you!"

Their passing is like a trill of greeting
only more hollow -- being followed by a silence
by a peace that lets an echo ring
(which by its nature means ending
or continuing)
They are all on the barge now
a toy at my feet.

I lay my right foot against the stern
and gently push
"Goodbye! Goodbye!"
and the raft of spirits is drawn
by the current
into the language of currents
"Goodbye! Goodbye!"
and it follows its own path
to oblivion while I stand
at the shore awash in reminiscence
until the image follows the
gold over the edge of the world
and I stand alone
in a peace of silence and
love of duration
facing the black black sea.