Danny James

490

Would you believe that the last time these skinned knees healed
It no longer amazed me like it used to and I hate to say it but…
Things they suddenly made a simple kind of sense
The horror, the mad ness, the helplessness of it all
That there is indeed beauty as well as blood
In life’s ocean of disasters
These shattered dreams and dead promises
Will not stand forever like graves
But one day grow legs and slowly walk away
In between the tornadoes and stomped on untrue love letters
There will be those shining gentle moments
Like the last page in your favorite book or
How badly I miss my mother
But how much I’ve come to love my father
And you scream that it’s been forever since
You witnessed blue skies
But trust me when I say that yes
This too will pass
It will quiet
Literally nothing stays the same
Just look to the clouds and you shall see
Always changing forever moving on again and again
Life’s one worthwhile guarantee

Bane, Place In The Sun
It All Comes Down To This

489: If you’re going to try

If you’re going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don’t even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery–isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you’ll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you’re going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It’s the only good fight there is.

Charles Bukowski

488: Sally in the Sun

The realisation had barely settled upon the consciousness when my face had been brought home into Sally’s hands. As she whispered my name and drew close, I caught in the instant, the glimmer of long obstructed joyousness in her eyes. Suddenly, with space enough to run, and a great gasp of the soul free in the world at last.

We stood there awhile, utterly delighted and engrossed with each other, amid the crowd before the coal-face of Friday night service dissolving. They’ve occurred before in glimpses, perfect these gaps of Nature, and you’ve figured since you couldn’t be granted many more miracles similar.

We talked at the centre of a hurricane with the sun smiling perfectly overhead at the mouth. Actualized and fully engaged with the moment, we felt the surge of a vast and thrilling current, brimming to the surface yet remained all the while at ease in the deep and holy intoxication that overlapped our traumas.
”I didn’t want to interrupt,” She said genuine, unblinking and ablaze. I wished as soon as it left her lips that she had, and I would have immediately let my responsibilities crumble for the encounter.
I couldn’t help but consider, as Sally spoke how that if she were not already spoken for, her hands were a perfect fit for mine; her waist, impossibly alluring and I could see us laughing at many good times gone by as we lay next to each other on a sunlit hillside overlooking the Steel City, some years ahead of tonight. Just as I had finished imagining these things Sally had motioned with a sideways glance and rather quickly, that she was in fact here with her fianc√© and his family celebrating, something that I couldn’t quite translate through appreciating the rapture of her returning smile. Sally was always so infectiously easygoing and buoyant about the future and yet I was detecting somewhere here with her, moments of stuttered thought and a gazing solemnity with but a whit of an unresolved irritation.

We parted with proprieties and cautious glances and that, I estimated was unfortunately to be the necessary end. Stricken is the heart under spell of the imagination.