i sit in the cafes long enough to see its many faces of the day-a traveler to consume cakes and coffees, to study the population with this simple act.it writes a book of truth, at day break it concludes and we willrip out the pages.i used to get scared and anxious when the seats at the cafes and bars would fill up with couples and triples and foursomes ofpeople and parties and i would be the sole inhibitor of my place setting.but that feeling has escaped me and now i only notice it as the naturaltraffic of space, time and people.some stay only a few moments, to regain their days and leave withtheir glasses a sip full,others linger longer, making a day of their drink.i find myself in places and i find places in myself
that i know i'll long for, to come back to
i envision my return over and over
the comfort i feel is so automatic, i swear i've known this city
unlike any other i have visited in my travels so far.
i think there is a time and place for all my outlets and creations
i wish to delve upon. i feel them all inside of me, but they only
let themselves escape at certain moments.
i must be patient and learn to know when it is a flight of fancy
or a proper signal.
at this moment words flow easily out of my heart, head and hand
its though i barely think about them, they simply have a way
with themselves and i loosely coax and cradle them, but
they continue to their preferred shapes and compositions.
its as though every thought and feeling i attempt to render
pours through me.
its nearly uncontrollable. its strange to me actually, i'm only a vessel
and its as i could write with the inspiration of any vision that enters
my field of senses
i feel its my purpose and its meant to be so easy and fluid.
my lids can't hold themselves up and if i noticed a feather falling from
the flight of the sky, i'd try to grasp it and curl myself on its wispy limbs
for a small siesta.
like i am drunk but have not ingested anything with hinderance.
maybe my vision is blurred by the galao and portuguese cakes,
which i find superior to all those i have sampled thus far in my city search.
i must learn to write with other emotions beside intrigue and wonderment,
i don't want to bore my reader.
i have friends at home in nyc and they look at situations and see the
impossibilities form before their eyes.
i am not casting criticism, as i know that view, i have felt its weight and
its creation of tightly braided tensions.
but it amazes me and makes me wonder because my field of vision
yields something so different as if so much possibility is provided,
i can't decide my colour to pick or path to tread, they all appeal
in their own shimmering ways-
visions of shimmering possibilities.
i think my path will take many turns and each bender before the next
prepares me with strength and honesty for what follows suit.
i am able to write here so quickly and with fluid motions, but i've been
able to write many places thus far...
i aspire to journey with an open mind and find inspiration in all that i see,
whether i'm pleased by it or not.
i am here to learn to live with lightness.
1 comment:
I'm not sure if these words are meant to be "commented" on because they are beautiful and they are personal. My thoughts don't matter in a place like this. But I just wanted to thank you for exposing this intimate part of yourself and sending the link along in an email.
The highlight of this post is:
at this moment words flow easily out of my heart, head and hand its though i barely think about them, they simply have a way with themselves and i loosely coax and cradle them, but
they continue to their preferred shapes and compositions. [...] i'm only a vessel and its as i could write with the inspiration of any vision that enters my field of senses
Gorgeous.
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