Monthly Archives: March 2014

4:30 AM.

How do you open a closed book?

The answer is not as easy as it sounds. Consider the effort, the science, and the art taking place when lifting the cover page. 


I wish I could help you. But I can’t. I don’t know how to.

for a friend

One day you will realize
When the world is crumbling around you
And what is left is a shell of yourself
That nobody will stop for you.

See – I am here, the man lurking in
The shadows of doubt.
should I would I do I
Questions of pure insignificance
Yet of all importance.

Still, I am here. Follow me into the dark
For once. You may actually end up
Seeing the light.

And Now There Hardly Exists Anything.

Every night, in the cover of darkness
I search for you. Sometimes, I find you, sometimes
I don’t. But one thing is constant:
You flee immediately.

[a banging sound in the background]

Maybe we dance for a while. Maybe we eat while
Sitting in a wide meadow. Maybe we converse for
A few minutes. But my happiness is as brief as these
Short-lived far-fetched encounters.

[banging noise intensifies]

In the mornings, I grasp at you. But I cannot;
I am collecting water in a sieve. What is left
Is a vague sensation, a recollection of something
That did not quite happen.