Monday, November 1, 2021

The Way Things Work | Tomorrow

 Tomorrow, in spite of all that is holy, the manifestation of today, regardless of whether we know it or not, is spawned from our weary minds. Thrust into the ether, caught by the down draft or a jet stream, a cold front or other meteorological phenomenon, the thoughts are given shape, like rain drops, vacuum sealed into the clouds. When the worries, concerns, hopes, fears, anecdotes, and wishes get too heavy, they burst the hermetically sealed cloud of mental murmurings to cascade upon us in the form of tomorrow, today. Isn't there a moment of solitude? A moment when the mind frees itself of the undying churning, the revolution of the cosmic washing machine, pauses itself and gives way to pure silence; snow blanketed fields untouched. 

Seldom do these moments materialize. Because the materialization, in and of itself is the deafening vacuum that is space. So silent it bursts ear drums and cracks window panes. In the fissures are trapped our screams and yells, sealed into a molten caste of subatomic particles that evaporate over time like the specks of sand they were spawned from. A more perfect cyclical event never occurred. Many other semi-perfect or semi-precious events have been played out like the wobbling of a projector's tilt-a-whirl revolutions, tumbled by sprockets and gears, motors and engines, combustible objects that fritter and quake before erupting in a gasp of primordial stew.  

But these imperfect renderings are the lowly day of those stuck in the rote and mindless game of spiraling towards the great and vast middle. Outside of us, if we were to really see it, really envision it, really conceptualize it, really smolder in it, really believe it, really embody it...outside of us, there is a greater us, a mimicked flicker of glass shards that combined form a crystal, smokey at it's core, but wholly natural and reoccurring over time upon itself. When the rains of time splinter it's tiny micro-cracks, and invade the precious space that is void; when the sun is just right, beaming out of the clouds, around the clouds, hazing the sky with a barely perceptible rainbow cascade...it is here, when the tomorrow's and the today's are born together like some insignificant cross road that is made more significant by the second. When the crystalized moment becomes dawn and we realize that nothing is perfect and all is right with the world. Tomorrow becomes today. 

Friday, September 20, 2019

Quiet for the Morning
mgolia6@gmail.com


It’s quiet these days, awaiting the other shoe’s blues to ring true
Me, I sing em too, but softly, like a voice subdued
Im glued to the notion that the ripple from the fall will undo
The cause and effect, defects, infecting the decisions I always choose
But you see right through, a cascade of bruises that are there but don’t show
You know how to strike, like a flint skips to lighter fluid, ignites with a hollow glow
Feel it deep below my skin, beginning to spread, like flame to fuel, and I know
That this quiet is pervasive, contagious, elegiac and abrasive, like rust on the soul
I bring nothing to the morning, it’s sun shining brighter in some inside joke
The latch on this door, cracked frame, holds nothing in or out, even if its not broke
Watch the intense point of the suns rays trigger kindling to simmer and smoke
And through these doors, unhinged, I chew heavy on words so as not to choke


Wednesday, September 18, 2019

Recollection

I remember the steady flow
rabble rouser battling from head to toe
saying set me free but dont let me go
hoping the break is clean as the ax is thrown
I spark like flint when the pressures on
a diamond in the rough, yeah those heads'll nod
they know i dont shimmer but im worth bettin on
so lay your money down, watch me ramble on
a snake in the bush dont have much to say
just lie in wait so patiently for his prey
hoping a wayward soul will simply lose his way
cause when it does man there is no need to pray
knelt in the pew, in an empty church
my back is bent like a winter birch
frozen cold components that i need to nurse
but sheltered in the warmth, man it could be worse
i could be somewhere lying in a shallow grave
so criminal that even the lord won't save
the western wind whips striking me like a wave
trying to stand, you watch as my body cave
the crest of the ridge asks the sun what are you hiding from
but soon those shafts of light beaming from the rising sun
splinter the sky, belie it's hidden nature as it climbs each wrung
and soon the ridge disappears in its shadow look what its become
I remember my steady flow
calm as the morning before the wind would blow
saying don't tell me but begging that you need to know
knowing the seed is sewn and hoping that it'll grow






Monday, August 19, 2019

No Regrets

It’s start with a spark, the flint 
just to get the fire lit, it’s dark 
Thinking this is it, gotta make your mark
Til the morning hits, let it be legit
Let it rush in fast, let me get a grip
Knowing that spirit, brought to the limit
I’ve tried, I’ve realized, that the more I try
The more that it flies, the more that i realize
That this time is a prize, a shimmer in my eyes
A glimmer that I prize, simmering inside
Marking my demise 
sparkle in my eyes
Now I’m sheltered from the skies 
And no matter how I try
I can’t shake the feeling 
And I won’t compromise

Listen, please listen. 
Cause there’s something I gotta say
I’m staring out the window 
On this cold and rainy day
I’m looking at clouds
And the silver linings gray


It’s been a minute since I got lifted 
And sifted through my own messes 
My guess is that while I’ll miss em 
I probably won’t regret em
Nah nah

It’s been years and their all a blur to me
Now something had just occurred to me
I feel it with all this certainty
But it’s gone before I turn and see

The safety that’s waiting in the wings
Waiting for that bell to ring
My guess is that I’ll never know
The calmness that the morning brings. 

A simple smile and I’m on my knees
It seems like an act of revelry
The crimson rushing as I bleed
Nourishes the bursting seed
  

Wednesday, August 7, 2019

Mgolia6@gmail.com

I remember being born not at birth but at thirteen
No womb but consumed by things that were other worldly
There was consumption and addictions and abductions man I wanna scream
Some kid got lit up in a bed and his father was an accessory  

I saw it on the tv, it was so sleazy, believe me I was thirteen years old and I was scared so easy
I didn’t sleep for three nights and for ten years my dreams would freak me
I couldn’t make out the difference between reality and my dreaming
The room got big and I got small the walls so tall I started screaming 

Next thing you know I was talking 
and sleep waking
Stalking my own demons 
in a somnambulist cauldron 
and I couldn’t get off it, 
it was like a faucet 
kept dripping and my lips slipping 
I was choked up and coughing 
and this happened so often 
but I could tell no one it was awful 
and I was caught in this nightmare 
I was aware 
That I wanted no one to get lost in

It took years to get even 
to prevent seasons 
from breathing down my neck 
and find something to believe in, 
I don’t know when I got to breathing 
but when I did it was like a chore 
but these days I could seize em, 
I could get mean then 
count to ten pretend 
I was no longer a demon 
I could say I was a man 
and feel like I was not committing treason 
say I know for what I stand but not be a cretin deleting the emotion 
that got sucked up like a potion 
like a notion that not knowing 
was the best form of devotion 
and release this heathen 
and cast the light wide 
and invoke the comfort of a beacon 
in my minds eye 

By the time they call you a man 
you may not know what that means, 
dripping like candle wax 
your dollars disappearing at the casino 
but your acting out a different scene 
you thought you knew what the intention was 
and thought your slate was clean 
but then you had to much vino 
and the keynote of your speakers was blown out viciously. 
Admittedly I could get violent 
and you might pity me 
and then I get silent 
and you might literally 
cut out my heart and repeat 
as the dearly departed 
cast out into the sea. 
You succumb to the plumb notion 
that this devotion 
flowed steadily like the ocean 
back to shore 
and more likely you implore 
the night skies to circle back for more 
but are you kidding me. 

I was young once 
and I was stunned 
in the far flung notion 
that there was innocence 
I saw the bleak 
break out of the creek 
and delete all the vicious sins  
that went down river in crimson 
delivered to all the citizens 
like water contaminated 
i was perplexed 
but also oblivious 
critical yes that is a criminal mess 
I hope you get the gist 
I hope you aim but miss 
I hope you made a list 
I hope you unfolded 
behold the coldness of this sitch 
don’t wind up in a ditch 
you find a little bliss 
You get a simple kiss 
and be a catalyst 
and know what the matter is 
and be an actor in that blockbuster 
but that sounds so flattering 
the fact of the matter 
is you are so talented. 
My thoughts are scattering 
and now I’m battling 
and I climbed the ladder 
and I found Elysium 

We carry the torch high for this one
I’m not gonna lie I’m wishing 
We could have a taste of our own medicine
Set your scopes take your mark got your target
Got em in your sights now your set but you park it
You just Unlock the lock and decide to let em in 
My thoughts like the nights stars are scattered and and hard to make out
But the voice in my head, incessant decides it is gonna shout
I’d love some peace and quiet but that’s just a nice sentiment
I’m battered and bruised 
You decide to cut loose
Say you got nothing to gain
I know i got nothing to lose
So throw the switch light fuse
It’s you bed to make so you must choose
And like a head fake it’s just a ruse
You haven’t got all night
And me I haven’t a clue 

I’m unsure whether this is a dream or reality
Cause outside the window pain it’s raining like pathetic fallacy
If your not gonna turn that shit down well then allow me
I stand up pull that fucker out the wall, throw a bottle through the screen and stand there proudly
Like this is my mess I confess it could of been handled a different way
But the past is the past ain’t no turning back unless your in some movie
Though this could be a dream, I tried to speak the moment washed right through me
Another voice shouted out you owe me a television I said who me

I’ve been lying low cause laying is so jaded though the song is playing way to slow I like to think that’s all I know and praying for the radio to take me home and put me down an offer on some pedestal subliminal so easy must be criminal, the captions act like a pistol they blow my mind a metronome I’m petrified and letting go so simplify decisions though and remember to just let me go    
This is it, this is me saying good bye
I watch these memories 
like moments passing by
So sudden but fuckem 
you can’t take em when you die
So I erase em replace em 
With all these tears that I cry
I’m erupting, assumptions, presumptive
This loving corrupted was something
Now nothing, and whether your bumming
I wonder what happens but frozen
In moments I’m slumming and yet I know why
So I pretend and I render the moment
Surrender I try to define what I felt but I’m rendered
And when I am done I succumb and I wonder
This blunder could leave me 
with all these tears that I cry
I’m not certain but know that i must say goodbye
This blueprint is soothing but soon it’s confusing
I’m losing my grip and I take a deep sigh
The crimson and brimstone and rhythm 
It’s home grown and I’m thinking like ozone and broken like your phone and soaking in the sun with the clouds passing by