I’ll admit I’m a few months late in posting this, But, inspired by my Diary Entry — 20 April 2008, and needing to send off the high schoolers to whom I was teaching poetry in style. I wrote this little poem called Note to Self, which I read to them at the conclusion of our last lesson.
I plan to bicycle ahead, and visit every stopping point I see,
and then I’ll join the space between the clicks of shutters in photography –
I fear that they might part again, but only death will separate our optics
from a closet deep inside that’s dropping clues by sending up its rockets,
popping fireworks when something broadens, floating on imagined wires,
note to self: Please do not stop until you feel inspired.
Hit the ground when nothing rises, break it open till it seems
as if you’ve stepped into the depths of hell, and are surrounded by a thousand demons,
check your self, and concentrate like Moses did, and part the sea
of evil, hearing bells because your aura has created wings for Satan’s heathens.
Being as your finished dealing with your demons, have them raise you up
like an erupting stream of lava streaming, is it love? Or is it just the feeling
of the rapture, captured in tiny crystal sealed inside your head. Appealing
to your better sense, you stop and ask, what happens next?
“Don’t do that,” says a little voice, “just fluid, just do it,
fuse cupid and the muses and use the clues to find out what the truth is…”
because the truth is not when apples drop to you, but what you squeeze the juice;
you have to get up on the chair with rope and feel the noose;
you have to close in on the center, all alone with zero company,
when called to by the shine of jewels you see, say “No, my plan is to be free.”
remember the direction of the leap you take is where you’re bound to be.
So bind yourself to metaphors that catapult your soul ahead of dreams,
where happiness exists as just another stopping point to see, while there
you’ll visit those that chose to stop. Now, listen they are not aware
that there is more to life than smiles – I’m telling this to you
while standing on a cliff before I leap. I plan to bicycle ahead,
and visit every stopping point I see and join the space between right now
and eschatology. I fear my senses aren’t enough, still here I go,
don’t try to stop my fire. Note to self: I’ve breathed in, now I feel inspired.
09 June 2008