"laid at rest"

laid at rest I tremble in the void
cast into motion I am immolated by the sun

"descending like smoke"

descending like smoke the marble stair
stars in her hair, the moon her skin

something she said
nebulous and deep
"I—forever in the—"
stars in the jewels of her eyes
that held me fast and whole
held me in her, complete

I lay with her in a bed of dream
mind... body... —in a bed of dream
her eyes like jewels letting me in
we wrapped ourselves round each other
lost in space, lost in time
in a bed made of desire and dream

M.M.

"What do we have?"

What do we have? At best a couple of chances to try for what we really desire in life? Sure, sometimes we do end up getting what we want by convoluted twists and turns of unpredictable circumstance. But directing ourselves purposefully toward some end, some completion of a sought-after intention? We have what seems like one chance to live for it, one chance to take a leap of faith, and no second chances. There are, of course, things that hold us back—some of them quite reasonable, I suppose. I just wonder what it takes to overcome our restraints. Is it the abrogation of fear? Is it meticulous planning? Each seems to have its advantages, and its flaws. In the end, the ultimate worry is the day that comes when there are no more chances to take.

Meditation on Running

Out there on the road I can confront my demons, and

stand face-to-face with them. Out there, more than

anywhere else, they are as human, and as broken, as I am.

Every step—and every step—and every step more—

I tread on each and every one of them.

I know you're better this—I know you're better this—

You are better than this—You aren't a piece of shit—

The physical exertion of it is tied directly to an unlinking of sorts,

a tearing away from the form that carries you along like some

ponderous weight. It is like you are a freed bird that has been caged

for most of its life, ascending into the air and finally becoming

what it was always supposed to have been.

Swept along with the music in your ears, with waves of

freedom taking you away from the hard, worn world of your life,

to some ineffable ecstasy of biochemistry and pure will.

All ignited and propelled by just a bit of psychical energy;

energy millions of years in the making,

and here induced on this stretch of road.

OK—you can do this—you can do this—you can do this—

I run toward something unreachable, knowing that
I have already reached it; reached peace in the distance.
I run not to run away, but to run into something better.
I run not to run away, but to run into something greater.

I give away the gift of guilt; I take off this harness of anxiety.
I leave behind the darkness of my body and mind.
I run not to run away; I run to return to where I began.

M.M.

On Body Image

I, like the vast majority of those who have grown up in image-conscious societies I'm sure, also from time to time struggle with poor perceptions of my own body image. It's a particularly poignant topic for me since for as long as I can remember my supreme endeavor has been to develop ways of improving all aspects of my life and my being through the well of determination and worth that comes from within. So when it comes to the way I look at my physical self, I am placed on this kind of battlefield fighting against the more self-deprecating voices in my head. I look at myself and think, "Oh, I am too fat", or "Oh, I don't like the shape of this or the shape of that". It is a battle against myself. And what strikes me is that body image is, perhaps strangely, a concept that I can use to truly learn to believe in the better parts of who I am as a person and an individual. If I can source strength from within myself—if I can buttress my self-esteem in the most shit of moments—then I have learnt something valuable; then I have inched just a little closer to developing my own self-worth. It's one skirmish at a time in an ongoing war, but one a skirmish at a time is all I need.

"The night holds"

The night keeps all my secrets
The night keeps my heart
In the night I speak to my demons
In the night I reconstruct

M.M.

"I rest there"

I rest there lying at her side
studying her sleeping mind
hoping to capture any thoughts that might slip through
the minuscule cracks of her inner-world
I wonder what would manage to escape
Amorphous clouds, a variegated lily
or perhaps the matter of a protostar
the beginnings of some solar system within her
Caught by her embrace in a waft of
splendor, desire and intellectual magic
a thing is born, of a wildness and electricity
This creature here in front of me is the most
wonderful of puzzles; an enigma with no solution
Inside that mind of hers there exists a universe
one I will never be able explore directly, only vicariously
It is those brief glimpses of starlight that pierce through
her psychic veil that rumble and crumble me all at once
A moment left perplexed, then ocean-deep in beauty

M.M.

"Winter-night"

For A.

Winter-night holds reign atop the plateau
A realm of stagnation and frozen thought
Years, that turn into years, and slow time
In the great desert of coldening night

It would take the memory of fire to open the shut eye
It would take the shifting of a stilled soul to raise the heat
Something deep down and long old, rising to the fore
Found once again, in the lightless abyss of infinite mind

From a stirring to a rumbling to the rupturing of planets
Light trumpeted forth, from the void, in a parade of wonder and will
The webs of sleep cleared away; the ice burned away
Such that there stood, in golden imperium: Life revived

"what little I have learnt of peace"

what little I have learnt of peace

from the wreckages of my past

tells me that even this pain
shall in time also pass

M.M.

"Run away"

Run away. Run away to the far-off places
To keep away loneliness and fill empty spaces
Somewhere distant, inside the approaching thunderstorm
To regenerate, recultivate; to restore your former form