Absence of Time

I learned by watching masters play -

their moves a fast, speedy, unrecognizable mess,

but I learned and I learned and I learned that way.

It’s been a while since I played a game of chess,

I was third chair in school and I thought I knew the game pretty well

from watching unpredictable mess after unpredictable mess,

and sometimes I would win, and sometimes I would lose.

Anyway, It’s been a while since I played a game of chess,

Get your hats and your gloves and your coats,

It’s freezing outside – you don’t want catch a cold!

Get ready quick because it’s late

And it’s nearly time to go!

We are to see quite a spectacle,

Something everyone should get to see

It’s beautiful yet brutal and most

Never get to see it at all.

 We are going to see the beast

That lives in the winter of our souls,

The thing that crawls in the backs of our throats –

Don’t look at my hands --

please don’t.

They were baby hands once,

trying to grab onto a large adult finger.

They were the hands of a small boy

trying to catch and throw

and play music

and write.

They are scarred

from cuts and bruises

and stitches

from sport and chore --

They are calloused

and flexible

from instrument after instrument

and from hours of holding a pen to paper.

Don’t look at my hands --

please respect my wish, I beg you!

My hands may be bigger now

than they ever were before

but they lost their function;

they’re vestigial and useless --

What is red and

translucent and

can drop like tears or

pour like waterfalls:

What is the essence of life

empty of innocence and

proof of mortality and

fragility:

What is it that flows harder when

we are determined and

slows eventually to a stop when

we have grown old or

given up:

What is it that we can learn from

a drop or a waterfall

that will make our lives better

our essences flow faster and

dried-up fountain

eyes --

Blood like my brother

to my family 

and I --

Blood sun-dried

and a body

Time travels

like a bullet train,

and I always get to the station

late

Every word I speak

reflects more cultures than I know,

for they have been irreversibly influenced

by Germanic, Celtic, Latin and more!

I stole every word I have ever known,

and every thought I have ever thought

from cultures that are not my own

and I have done so without remorse.

If you tell me my words are knives

in the backs of all those whose cultures

brought my words to life –

I will laugh in your face.

After all,