My Life Prior to 2007

Part IV - No Vacancy

Sunlight has finally filtered its way through my eyes and penetrated the depths of my heart. Gravity wins and has pulled me down from this cloud and I am filled with understanding. Beautiful as she may be, she was and still is an inspiration to me, but she’s not the one, at least, not for me. As much as I desire to be a part of her life and her, mine, she is young and free and like a bird soaring on thermal currents. And even though I may, at times, still suffer and struggle with her enchantment, I have found my one true angel.

2006: A Year for the Gallows

The year has drawn to a close and what way to end it by reading the news and finding out that Saddam Hussein’s fate hung in the gallows, literally. Frankly, I don’t really care, because the man responsible for 9/11 still has not been brought to justice. Our attention was distracted by a terrible Iraqi dictator and we lost focus on what the real mission was. But I’m not one to step up onto any political soapbox so I’ll step down before I trip and fall.

I mean, seriously, am I to raise a toast at midnight and graciously give thanks for ending the year with a hanging? Should I bring in a new year knowing that we hunted a terrorist but settled for a dictator? Don’t get me wrong, Saddam did some terrible things to his own people and needed to be brought to justice but I don’t think we should forget about the real problem still roaming free somewhere in Afghanistan or Pakistan. If we really need to deploy more troops to the cause, why not send them to find Osama and bring him to justice?

I would really like to see peace throughout the world in 2007 but my optimism is running a little fickle. I would really like to see our troops come home and be with their families that they love and miss so dearly. And if our president wants to leave the Whitehouse somewhat redeemed, show me an early morning headline that states “Osama bin Laden Captured and Brought to Justice.” Maybe then I will enjoy my bagel with cream cheese and a glass of orange juice.

Blog Dementia

Recently I have found myself in various realms of blog dementia. It’s an addiction that starts out slowly, grows to epic proportions, then spirals out of control. I can’t seem to settle on only one space to blog as that is not how my mind works. There are so many creative angles that I like to take and so many levels of inspiration that they have become overwhelming. By consolidating blogs into one place I feel that they wouldn’t make much sense or flow smoothly and it’s driving me insane. So far, I am pleased with two of the four blogs that I have created as they seem to centralize around a theme. Maybe I don’t understand the whole idea behind blogging yet. My thoughts are jumbled and too random but I would like my blogs to make some sort of sense to the reader. I guess it’s about time to swallow a couple Tylenol, take a deep breath and ponder on my dilemma some more.

Shaman's Prayer

Somehow I have been catapulted upward from the damp and dank filth of the gutter, lifted by light, love, desire and inspiration. Something was left or realized the day after I returned from the beautiful, enchanting beaches of the Yucatan. The more I ponder, the more I wonder if that Mayan Shaman’s prayer and the submersion in the sacred waters of a cenote somehow cleansed my soul. Sacrificing the past I have invited the future and in doing so found balance.

Even though, at times, I still feel trapped inside, the rusty bars have been removed and the air is no longer stale. Once again, the gentle wind fills my sails and carries me along currents towards sunlight that is almost blinding. My heart beats pure and I am overcome with joy, long awaited. Finally tasting the salty spray in my eyes brings me to tears as I am delivered to familiar shores.

Distractions & Decisions

Since that Tuesday night that she was over I haven’t turned on the Christmas tree lights and I haven’t figured out why. I haven’t felt this way before and I don’t know what to really think. With nothing to offer, my tainted past and subtle scars I am curious as to what she actually sees in me. And on top of that I am currently being torn in two directions between her and the muse that distracts my every thought. It’s hard enough, as it is, tiptoeing on broken glass and very painful, I might add.

Part III - Enigma

I am still finding myself inspired by improbabilities and I suffer and struggle and want more. It’s an aching, starving hunger that can only be fed and fueled by a bittersweet chemistry. She is there and I am touched and the words, like clay, are molded but flow like warm water from my hand. I can’t undo what’s already been done now that the moments are carved into stone.

She is a mysterious muse, a captivating enigma, and her beauty is relentless like the sharp edge of a sword. When in her presence, she breaks my concentration like sunshine slicing through clouds of a storm. My heart grows restless and superstitious and turns my passion into poetic rage. And remnants of her find themselves onto every scrap of paper and into every pixel of digital page. Words become strewn like tapestries on white castle walls obscuring the depths of dark dungeon halls from the past.

She has been my phoenix rising from the ashes, my angel and salvation. She has rescued and revived me from the damp and cold, the demons and shadows from every alley and street corner. Like a lighthouse she has guided me away from the rocky shore and into that of safe harbor. And without reason, maybe selfishness, I have barely gotten to know her and have been denied a friendly acquaintance and conversation. I feel as if I owe her everything but I’m running a bit late. Maybe, just maybe, I could wait a little longer.

To be continued . . .

Part II - Chimera

And if I were Superman, this girl is definitely kryptonite, and each time I am in her presence I am weak and powerless. She must have a strong realization the effect of enchantment that her eyes have on me and uses them with flirtatious complacency. It’s like staring into a vortex of beauty but once it has hold on you it pulls you in. Her smile, like a katana, finds me without armor or shield and I lose the battleground beneath my feet. The complexity in her language is clear and obscure. And so the paradox unravels . . .

To be continued . . .

Part I - Rapture

Once again, treading softly, she trespasses my dreams with early morning footprints, and I awake with sunlight streaming through the slits of the window. My heart skips a beat and I slowly loose grip on my feet as I stumble out of bed. And at that moment I know it will be another bitter cold morning that I’m stuck behind the keyboard writing what thoughts come to me, trying to sort it all out.

Somehow I have found myself, once again, falling for the impossible and complicated. I’m not sure how to harness my feelings without pulling myself below the surface with an anchor around my neck. The previous attempts at following my heart usually has me ending up drowning in desolation and self-pity and I find myself wandering aimlessly about the wilderness. And this time I have everything to lose.

But there’s something about this girl that is magnetic and purely attractive and it’s not just her physical appearance. Even though her smile and her eyes do touch my soul, like tendrils of sunlight, I still try and keep my distance, painful as it may be. I have complete respect and absolute admiration for her and I would really like to get to know her well because her personality and her life burn a strong brilliance and desire in my heart. If I could just let it all go, I would, because the stakes and risks are too great to be following what I know to be a dream.

To be continued . . .

Discovering a Muse

The book has been closed for some time now and just a few weeks ago I picked it back up off the coffee table leaving an outline of dust. So many blank pages in between chapters saddened me so I found a pen and began scribing whatever text came to me. The thoughts were stirred and the ink began flowing as if in a frenzy. Having no idea what had taken over me I wrote the following words this morning and realized I had discovered a new muse.

Secret Fire

Early morning, awakened soul and like a stained glass window
I had a dream last night through color projected by sunlight
Meandering through realms invited leaving lanterns ignited
The brilliance of secret fire harmonizing and soothing
Intricately woven, I have seen tears in rain, slowly moving
Just a brush, a touch, nothing much but then it floods
Mesmerized by a moment with a likeness to no other
From a delicate distance, appearing from an eastern shore
Stirring what emotions have befallen me, I look for more
Soaring on ruminations alone, I have discovered a muse.

~ There should be more to bind us together than tear us apart

But loosely bound secrets I must press gently against my heart ~

Absolution

I am brittle, I am bare, and the thorns are still there
But now that the snow is falling, I am sincere
The day beckons me and soon I am overcome
And on bended knee I pray with gentle words
And with pureness of heart I seek absolution
Sacrifice is my salvation, my blood, my breath, my life.

December 16, 2006
© Cordell J. Larkin

Katana

My strength rises from the ashes and forged by flame
I am shaped, bended and folded like steel, I am real
Cutting with razor sharp precision, I take careful aim
I am the heart of a warrior with passion like a poet,
Romantic like a lover and there is only one and no other.

December 15, 2006
© Cordell J. Larkin

Submerged

Opposition

I cannot hear myself think anymore and it’s not because of the music blaring out of the speakers. It’s the opposing forces waging battle on the frontline trenches of my mind. The intricate wall has been breached and I seek shelter from the stones crashing down. But I cannot, so teardrops begin to fall and bleed upon every page.

Once, there was only one, but now there are two, but in the end there can be only one. And so, I am perplexed by the flood of emotions I hold for each. My intuition whispers to me but I struggle to listen as my heart is torn in two and twisted in barbwire. As the swords clash I will be on middle ground but I’m afraid I will be the one left not standing.

Sliver of Sky

Man vs. Nature

Dream Landscape

Day 31 - The Day After Day 30

Okay. I didn't expect "those" pieces to fall but we'll see what tomorrow brings.

Autumn Pagoda

Day 30 - Today

Today is the day the pieces all start falling into place and it all comes together.

At the Tea Garden

Proof of Life

Sandstone on fire as day drops behind the hoodoo horizon
And the thrill of chill feels invigorating biting the skin
Seeking solitude you find the desert to be your friend
The stillness, like loud silence; the darkness, like velvet light
While shivering, bundled, without the warmth of embrace
The nostalgic night air tickles like needles on your face
But you find peace with a million eyes blinking at you
And as the temperature fades icicle tears come to view
You look for answers to questions, as if God only knew.

Path of Light

Going Global

Does the phrase "going global" kind of like "going postal" but just on a larger scale?

Violin Strings

Taken from the symphony, it’s violin strings for me
And I’ve harbored the shadows, deep beneath the sea
Inspired by a beauty but only on a level as a friend
An aching hunger burns relentless beneath the ribs
And as the pressure grows heavy the air begins to thin.

I’m in the vacancy of a void, a universe so vast
But once again I’m suffering from surfacing too fast
The lungs bursting into an uncontrolled rhythm
And I find myself choking on water from blue eyes
Having paid the ransom but never claiming the prize.

Like Oxygen

Her presence is so infectious that it’s like a virus spreading through every cell
And as she walks out the door, she looks back, that’s when my heart really fell
Moment after precious moment begin to multiply, it’s like storm clouds in the sky
And in her absence my breath begins to fade and I feel like I’m struggling for life
I can only suffer so much before the moments are like reflections behind my eyes.