The Celestial Promenade
Echo… How I missed you Beat… How I feel you Sound… How I noticed you Muse… How I known you For the evening died away as it chose to sail on the stratospheric cloud hovering over the outside gardens where we walked on the grass barefoot and never wondered about the brick wall that would gash the body or feared the mean- der that we tread upon with such innocence and such lack of fore- sight… The dialogue continues on… As I sit and observe The guests arrived in their roles… As I sit and watch The sounds transform into patterns… As I sit and perceive The hours tick by in rhythm As I sit and tap… To the silent pulse that emits from the darkness and the crowd of that center of civilization, with grandi- ose depictions of product and the masses blurred into obscurity and mere observation… and the master sits properly with a deadpan stare as the simplicity fills the room and the angelic vibrations ring out into our impressionist cosmos… Oh God, will You show me the door? Oh God, will You direct me to the angels? Oh God, will You turn on the lights? Oh God, will You keep me company? Oh God, will You tell me please… If the moment will keep going… Even when the song fades into the distance?
It is only a moment. After all, the proper alignment of the planets with the stars... Plus the instant when man and woman sing the famed love song... It comes only once. In a millennium. For I can taste the sweet dew from the cedars of Lebanon And I can sense the presence of the gazelles by the dancer out in the grazing fields… The theater appears live before me and I know my lines
I’m afraid… I’m uncertain… I’m afraid… I’m uncertain… What am I wearing again?
The goblet condescends and The lower viscosity seeps its way through the fabric. She sits there looking around her, noticing the actors trotting from point To point, presenting the drama of a meal. I stare into those eyes, the perfect sphere wander endlessly But the inverse square law holds a grip on them and I am now locked in the Endless centripetal acceleration about the mass, Hovering about in the eternal freefall with the candle before me as the sun. For they say the starry sky is clearer from the vast distance… They grasp the vision when they stated the assertion, And behold, my fellow colleagues the evidence is there. (But now, let me indulge in the commentary) The fantasy gently takes me back to reality and now the world is never the same…
So that, the moment can be savored like a bottle of Côtes de Bergerac Rouge or filet mignon We depart hastily but stop to pose for that imaginary paparazzi behind the velvet rope. Personally, I am surrounded by the velvet rope and the camera is at a safe distance from the artwork Unfolding before my very eyes, forcing me to drop palette, pencil, pad of paper… There are exchanges of smiles, Exchange of one dimensional conversation Exchange of … Where, it’s all air and no substance… But the drama continues to unfold and what wonders wait for me behind the main drape.
I have traveled along the spiral of Archimedes long enough. Another love scene appears before me, the labeled pornographic director announces. The woman rounds the lips and the rush of a sweet chaste sound pursues outward When the grip by her tender hands is ever so slight under the blurred canopy of light. The caresses and the closeness are ever so gentle, as if the adobe is still vulnerable to the pressures. Those eyes peer into the bright mysteries of the universe. When I’m with you, the man says in his head, the astronomical wonders engulf me with ecstasy
The desk behind him generates the same dark matter It is the same emptiness that was first experienced in the sixth year. I have learned over the years to despise it. But I’ve also learned to ignore it. They still move and jitter to the same drones, the same beats and the same tones. Granted that the melody in my head is the same way, but at least it’s multi-dimensional. The worlds continue to collide when the vocal lines clash into each other… I’m surprised no one pulled out a gun yet. I turned to look around for I’m finding my love.
Is the city open? I ask when I make my way through the maze
She left me for another one. I saw her seducing him with such indecent exposure that only the victim could enjoy. She was working wonders and he smiled since the stage manager invited him to the action, Why not pass it up? I’ll give you answer! You missed your fucking cue! It left me with internal bloodshed I couldn’t play the ballroom game anymore. I shunned everyone away when greeting came my way. There was a lot on my mind to care about acting with the rest of the fools.
The car is parked. The view is crystal clear now With that luminous moon of white marble And the sky of a flat acrylic black that puts the graying clouds in the foreground I think and I wonder about all that was said and done. Should depressing dramatics poison the evening? Is the worth reciting an incantation to let the falling stars travel a new vector path to me, just for a final curtain? I should get a grip on myself before I might slip into the watery abyss.
I tell my story of romantic aspirations and realistic fiascoes. She looks at me with eyes turn into sadness And the complexion becomes less ostentatious and more human She knows the words and the meanings that lace around it. She knows the hidden notes and sequencer lines that dazzle the poetic embroidery She understands the tears that stain the pages. She is inspired by the dream and the quest. She looks to a camera and concludes the segment without revealing an intention.
The invited guests still pretend to be adults. Who wouldn’t at that age? After all, weren’t we the ones that were willing to look formal? Weren’t we the ones that knew that the price of fame comes with a price? But any who… I was stronger after the knockdown since death decided not to greet me. My friends were still there to socialize with me again. We again shared laughter and interesting conversation as the hours dragged on. Life goes on. So it goes.
The sun rises overhead. We survived another day of playing an adult game. The morning dew decides to latch onto me. The flowers bloom all around me at the sight of the Sol. Another chapter emerges from the stage of Agrapha to a cryptic form For the stars have taken into another shape.
She placed her hand on my beating chest She posed on me like lovers do yet rests on me like a cat does. Of course, I’m not the one who is complaining. For the evening is tranquil in spite of the occasional sirens blaring. After my eyes wandered around for a bit, I noticed something lying on the floor. It was a formal dress. It was an evening, romanticizing the past yet kissing all over the present
Date of First Draft: 29 and 30 April 2000 (from Prelude to Part 5), 13 May 2000 (Diversion 2 to Diversion 4)
Information: This was another poem where the subject is the high school prom and again, it’s the conflict between the beautiful romanticism and the cold harsh reality. Although this poem does not have a specific dedication, I would like to thank Carey Hogg, a fellow classmate who suggested that poetry should be a career for me.