The Thief and the Moon Day 283

Said the thief to the moon, "I have stolen diamonds and treasures beyond man's imagination
and yet they fall short in the presence of your light. I must have you, I must find a way."
Said the moon to the thief, "So many hands rise to touch me, yet they all fall short
I am not hiding from anyone, I am lonely with these cold stars - come to me if you've heart"

And the thief traversed many a lands chasing the glorious ball of light…
His velvet gloves on, he moved with the waves and chased further when it started to diminish
He built ladders and weaved plans, he dreamt of nothing else, his every thought spun around the moon
He walked with people, yet his eyes were always adrift, he waited for the darkness to behold its sight
He felt drawn in a way he could not describe, his every treasure and possession paled in his eyes
He must have the moon, he must find a way… yet the days turned to weeks, which bled into years

Said the thief to the moon, "I have tried all that I can, and I have fallen in love with you
Nothing and no one else will do, I need to find a way to be with you.
I don't want to possess you, I just want to exist with you… feel your cool touch on my warm brow
I am exhausted, I cannot feel anything else, I cannot be with anyone else…"
Said the moon to the thief, "So many rise to own me, yet very few travel with me through the darkness
You look for me even when I am hidden behind the veils of the clouds,
You call for me even when most don't notice my waning self…
I have followed you as you've loved me as no other…
There is no beauty in me, if there is no poet like you…
There is no depth in me if there is no one who seeks to see me as you do
I have followed you as you followed me for you've heart…
Lie in my light, and let us be one…"

And so he lay on the ground, closing his eyes and she glistened over him…
And he climbed up the silver staircase as she opened up to him
His spirit soared and filled her with a desire she had never known…
Together, they moved…hidden behind clouds, they danced…
A story no one could have known….
A story of a thief and his beloved moon.

- RKS

The Infinite Day 282

There was a football field, when empty, it seemed larger than it appeared. And when I walked on it, it seem to span forever. When I lay down and looked at the skies, the green surrounding me, the stars peeking out of the dark cloak that covered them, a warm breeze caressing my face - I remember thinking, this is what infinity must feel like. Something not measurable, the expanse of a thought or an emotion can seem so large and encompassing the closer we get to it.

There are so many places we go to - some physically, some just in our mind. We imagine worlds and scenarios and sometimes act on them. We transport ourselves with possibilities and thoughts. Aspirations of a place to reach and be. And a portion of our life seems to be lived in the future which is always ahead. We imagine the tomorrow, we think of a better time, or have a running to-do list to get to. We believe we will find relief in another situation, the answer to happiness. And sometimes its easier to let our minds drift and be there. And other times we feel trapped in a space we can't get out of.

I write this blog often times assuming that a lot of emotions/thoughts I have are understood by someone who is reading this. Maybe I am wrong, maybe I am the only one who thinks of infinity and the expanse of a universe when lying on a football field. Maybe only I think of where the mind can co-exist in planes beyond our reasoning. Possibility and future, I don't know. There are times when we assume to identify with others - for how can we be different? In some measurable way we must be the same - cut from the same cloth. We are human, we have humanity, we possess empathy - is that the end of our similarity? Or is that even assuming too much… I am not sure.

At times my thoughts here, seem just that - my thoughts. I am not sure who I am relating with, if I am doing a good job expressing things….and yet there are some moments when I remember something, and I want to write of it. I was looking at the sky today - with the stormy clouds settling in and the bare trees dancing with the wind and the first stars peeking out… and I thought of lying in that football field. And I thought of how we're all part of an infinity that is both immense and minute. And maybe it's just me, but someday when I do close my eyes, I want to be under that sky and be surrounded by that feeling. Part of and immeasurable, complete and undefinable… infinite and scattered… the sky holding my last breath.

The Unspoken Day 281

There are things I want to say to you
Yet they don't find their way to my lips
They just peek at you from my eyes
The thrust of these thoughts fill me
They pound at you, asking to find flight

Flight in the arms of sound
Shape in the form of words...
Release from the silence that guards it
Some way to dress up this feeling
So we could hear me say them
And we could watch you react

Yet it remains a feeling...
A feeling like a scent in the air
Something we both know of, yet can't explain
A secret which neither of us can hide
And even though I don't need to...
Sometimes, when you hold me with your eyes
And the desire beats hard in me...
There are things I want to say to you
which don't find their way to my lips
Just reach out to you through my eyes.

- RKS

Beautiful Tragedies Day 280

Today I thought I would share a "guest blog". This was written to me by someone who has had a deep appreciation of war which I had never understood. I asked him what appeals to you about it? I don't see beyond the bloodshed, necessary or not, why does this interest you… to which he responded to me with this essay which I think was really well written. I recently remembered it as I came across it in my email and thought I would share it (with or without his approval) :)

I was eleven when I first discovered the American Civil War.  At that time I checked out a book that appealed to me in terms of its graphics, started to understand more about it and was on my way.    Other than my college years I’ve never been away from it in terms of an interest.

That said, I’ve never really dwelled on the reasons why because no one has asked me.

There were so many ‘big picture’ results and consequences of the conflict.  For all intents and purposes, the end of slavery in the western hemisphere.  It was the first seed sown for civil rights.  The end of a way of life for half this country, meaning the South, in terms of attitudes and customs.  The acceleration of industry and manufacture in the North for the war effort became the basis for much of this economy going forward.  The beginning of the modern navy as wooden warships became obsolete literally overnight due to the battle of the Merrimac and the Monitor at Hampton Roads Virginia.  The importance of railroads jumped up. The advances in weaponry and resulting change in battle tactics were felt the world over.  All this in the space of 4 years!  How couldn’t this be fascinating to any historian, or in my case, someone with a history degree. 

It was also the first war to be chronicled by photography.  Matthew Brady and Tim O’Sullivan in particular photographed the battlefields and their grisly aftermath and to quote someone from the time “brought the corpses and horror to peoples doorsteps”.  This fact did much to defuse the ‘romance’ of 19th century warfare and fueled the first anti-war sentiment in this country.

It was a war that began with all the age old notions and practices of old world chivalry and ended with the concept of total war.  Well meaning prisoner exchanges performed due to statements of honor early in the war evolved in the latter phases to the complete devastation of land and homesteads to bring the war to the civilian population and thus end it through the destruction of their will and resolve for the cause.

The war’s real fascination for me however was the common man who fought it.  Anything I read now deals with small unit histories, where you get a lot of diary observations from the volunteer who slogged through it all for his own purposes.  Why did they go through the incredible hardships?  Though the issue of slavery is always front and center in any discussion of this war, the vast majority of soldiers on both sides fought for different reasons.  Southern soldiers were dirt poor, the idea or wherewithal to own a slave far beyond them.  They were more incensed against the idea of the Yankee invader in their midst and with the right to secede.  Most northern troops considered the black man as well beneath them and not why they were in the field but rather for the preservation of the Union.  When slavery abolitionists tried to emphasize the liberation of the black man as a rallying cry, most northern troops turned a deaf ear.  Yet the feats performed and endured in the pursuit of their idea of nationalism are mind boggling.  To give you two examples:  Sometime you might make a trip to Harpers Ferry, Virginia.  (The Shenandoah Valley in Virginia is one of my favorite parts of the country, beautiful and the location of so much of these Civil War locales).  You’ll see that it’s a town nestled in a little valley surrounded on three sides by large peaks.  It changed hands many times during the war.  When first taken by southern troops they dragged cannon up to the top of those three peaks.  They did this barefoot as shoes were at a premium.  They did this when their main diet component was not corn but ground up corn cobs as provisions were light at that time.  They did this without benefit of roads but through the woods and underbrush of these peaks.  No horses dragging these cannons, but men under these conditions.  Incredible.  On the other side of the coin, at the battle of Cold Harbor in 1864 northern troops had fought a hard spring campaign with huge amounts of casualties.  They came to this battlefield and looked across the fields at the southern positions they knew they would be ordered to assault.  They could see that it was tantamount to suicide so many of them took little scraps of white paper and wrote their names and next of kin on them and pinned them to their uniforms.  They were then ordered to advance.  In the space of 30 minutes, over 7,000 of them were casualties.  They said if you looked over the field it was just a mass of blue uniforms with little white scraps of paper fluttering in the wind.  Sad. Yeah. Fascinating, even moreso.  Why didn’t they look at this battle to come and say no, we’re not going to die here?  They had a devotion to their perception of duty that many (myself included) can’t understand today.

With all this carnage in mind it makes it more ironic that the men on both sides had more in common with each other than with their high ranking commanding officers or civilian populace.  During lulls in activity the men on both sides would call their own truce and ‘meet in the middle’.  Southern tobacco freely traded for Yankee coffee and newspapers.  They’d compare their views of the war.  When the officers would appear the men would go back to their respective positions and yell at each other, “Put your head down Johnny Reb” and “Watch yourself now Billy Yank”, and begin taking pot shots at each other.

I also am drawn to the Irish aspect of the war.  Huge numbers of Irish were leaving Ireland at that time looking for any opportunity here and the army recruiters waited for them at dockside.  As soon as the Paddys walked off the boat they were given the speech about the stability of the army and to be accepted here it was best to fight for Lincoln.  They literally signed up on the dock.  They were the largest foreign born ethnic group in the war and many of them died for a country they never got the chance to know.

General Dan Sickles has his leg blown off at Gettysburg yet insists on being taken before his men with a cigar clenched in his teeth to rally them before being taken to the rear, Henry Culp, a northern boy, born and raised on a farm in Gettysburg yet joins the Confederacy.  Fights a number of battles with the southern army and ironically winds back in Gettysburg in 1863 and is shot and killed making an assault on his own family farm.  Robert Shaw, a Boston blueblood with any number of opportunities open to the wellborn yet decides to undertake the stigma of leading black troops, the 54th Massachusetts, to make a statement for abolition.  He is killed leading them in the battle at Fort Wagner.  Just a few examples of the brother vs. brother and convictions that make it compelling for me.


Ultimately, the greatest single event in our history and akin to a family tragedy that resonates today. 

Hopping Through Thoughts Day 279

Been staring at a screen for 14 hours today and should probably turn this off and go to sleep... but felt like I should also write something quickly down before I do. 

Been thinking of a lot of things recently and they are occupying my mind's real estate. Been told I think too much, over analyse too much... and to me, it is just understanding before accepting. Anyway as I mentioned, am a little tired tonight so this is going to be jumping all over the place...

Here are some questions and their thoughts that I've been having....

1. What stems insecurity? There are different kinds of insecurities that we experience - the more basic, common one - the vain one, the one based on looks and confidence. There are insecurities that come from circumstances where we feel vulnerable, just a gust of wind away from toppling down... We're insecure when we try to imagine a future which is a ghost. We're insecure when we live in fear of yesterdays mistakes which is also a ghost... We're insecure when our doubts and optimism don't balance each other. Insecurity expands out into many different branches the more relationships we build... and the more we try to control and claim comfort from them.

2. Been thinking about polar vortexes - being in the center of two now in just the past few weeks, I guess that's not too surprising. It's an interesting description of being in the center of a whirlpool of mother nature who seems to have forgotten it is March... it is the month of spring. 

3. Old friends are truly the best way to remember and realize what you've become and  how much you've grown. Time is an interesting thing - it changes and shapes us so subtly... us living with the blinders of "now" - we don't even realize how each step, each decision is changing us and how we're growing more tolerant, or less... growing happier or confused...or just expanding in our thought process. 

4. I sometimes think our human bodies occupy spaces on Earth - sure they do, I am here writing in one, and you reading in one. But I think of the ways in which we occupy that space. If I were to expect myself to be defined...what would it be based on? Would it be my choice in my favorite book? Have I occupied an understanding as someone who enjoys that genre? Do I then get remembered for my love for a food, or a piece of art, a song, or a color? An action or an opinion? Every thing we do, even our small choices and simple "endorsements" are what make us fill out these bodies and give us a measure, a personality, a form we can identify with. 

5. I also spent some time contemplating the theory of some French men _ I think one of them was called Barthes (too tired to google check) who said "the author is dead". Meaning, when we as writers put something out there - in form of a story, a poem - or a blog as such, these words are no longer mine. These are not my thoughts that belong to me but are open now to public interpretation. In such a way all of literature is public property. Often times, we are taught to not know about the writer, to find our own connection and understanding, to not limit yourself by what you know of the author. This makes the writer a mere vessel...a mere medium through which words and thought are expressed. And with each word put out there... they are distanced from the author and left in the hands of the reader to mold into whatever they desire.

 I dont know if I completely agree - for sometimes I think understanding is the start of accepting.... but this basically completes the circle... 

Thinking too much.

So, now I shall say good night, till it be 'morrow.

Struggling Strength Day 278

I was once told that where there is no struggle, there is no strength. Strength... I have been called so strong by some that they have felt they no longer need to walk by me. To have known the stony resolve of survival when you hit the cold floor, the lonely walk when you walk the "right path", this is what we call strong. The truth is there is no strength without any struggle. You cannot build the calluses on your soul, heal despite the scars without sacrificing, without getting damaged, without hurting. Strong is nothing more than a fight, a battle dance with your demons, with your ideals, with your stubbornness to not give up.

She had worn her armor on for so long and so tight,  she had started missing the tenderness, the simplicity of moments. 

With the cloak of the night, come to me

In this dark quiet, come find me

Sit with me, tell me your stories

Let me watch the moonlight dance in your eyes

Color this black with your laughter

Let me play with your fingers

And then as it had to, comes the day she is in the presence of those where she didn't want to hide, she began to forget why she had her weapons. The want to let go and not be "strong", to be allowed to be weak to emotion and happy, took over her like a childish desire.

No! Don't come too close, these scars will scare you

They are mine but their reach is strong

Don't try to come too close, don't look at me in the light

Keep your spirit simple, your love pure

Don't look too deep into this bottomless pit

The shadow of her innocence fading, she realises that, that which has broken her cannot be fixed. That which is broken cannot be mended... and all who walk in the cracks of its memories will hurt too. She knows to be alone is to protect, she smiles with the new purpose she has found... she whispers to the dark embracing arms...

Go now with the morning light

Don't look back, keep your smile with you

I will remember your hands locked in mine

Your memory will heal me, you will know no struggle

Go now... for I will be strong, for the both of us.