One pair of Shoes

Posted by kenji on November 1, 2007

She’s just one pair of shoes away from being a gypsy
because that’s just the way she is.
She moves, keeps on moving, in her body, in her life.
Actually, that’s what I like most about her,
and that’s what I hate about her.
I love the sunlight on her skin,
and how the wind plays with her hair,
I am grateful because he taught me how this is done.
This time.., her hair is jet black,
having the sheen of raven’s wings.
Are they gypsies too?
I imagine so, because they are so ‘here’ when they’re here.
Oft in bands, uncountable, sometimes as a sole spirit:
appearing to speak to me of mysteries and things unseen.

She’s just one pair of shoes away from being a gypsy,
one dance away from being gone, again.
What’s interesting is…, when she does return,
like a warm breeze in times too cool for comfort,
she is completely different.
I only can recognize her by her eyes.
I’m not saying by color and shape but only by the soul that lies within.
When we are together, I cherish the honey,
the sweetness of our now and I well know the sting as things die.
There are times I think she very well may be the devil in disguise,
returning to torture my heart again and again,
but I gain…, I grow from our encounters

Just one pair of shoes away from being a gypsy.
Maybe I can learn from her way of being, embrace it as mine own.
Yes…, its time to learn this lesson too,
to be free from the torment of waiting for her return.
This is for the lost and the lonely so I’ll no longer be counted amongst them.
It is time to dance to tunes unheard and gather travel dust on my shoes
til it falls to the ground like rain.

I just got a new pair of shoes today and I’m gonna dance to the horizon.
I feel that wandering spirit in the air,
no…, a warm breeze in times too cool for comfort.
The winds of change.
I believe I’ll be leavin’ now.

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1Nov

In the Space Between

Posted by kenji on October 17, 2007

In the space between my breath
I find movement and ease, soreness long lost,
a dance that has yet to be
I feel great, alive and…, dead to the old
There is calm and serenity, a peace long forgotten

In the space between my breath
There is a beast who slumbers, good or bad,
I do not know… but he smiles as he sleeps
I meet a dog there sometimes;
he too smiles as he slumbers.
Why these smiles, I do not know,
perhaps a secret I’m not privy to…, yet

In the space between my breath
I find bread, old and rotten, yet there is a sweet smell,
Maybe it is that of death or perhaps
that of new life growing amidst remnants of the past
I wonder what bread has to do with breath except…
possibly I misheard myself.
Perhaps this is a pattern, I shall watch to see if this is so

In the space between my breath
There still exist tunnels of dark, which are known solely to me
The depth of which no one notices
Because they are entranced by their own reflections

In the space between my breath
There are ghosts of things past and spirits of things to be,
Whom enter in the inhale and depart on the exhale,
leaving their imprint but for a moment or two…

In the space between my breath
There is snow…, unfallen

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17Oct

Full Moon

Posted by kenji on September 24, 2005

You again, night’s eye
Taunt my spirit with lost songs
Yet still I rejoice

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24Sep