Khalil Gibran

“When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.”

-Khalil Gibran

guh pie lee gor

the moon's beam and ground plane are not my friends tonite.
i look up only to look down, it seems.

i cant see you anymore, you're hiding behind anguish.
i cant feel you anymore, you're inching farther away every moment
i can't hear you anymore, my sadness gets louder every passing second.
i can't touch you anymore, my hands sting you too much.
i can't trust you anymore, for you say one thing and do another.
i can't want you anymore, you're not worth the rejection.
i can't yearn for you anymore, my heart's yearning for something new.
i can't try anymore, i'm losing my grip, my mind and my soul.
i can't wait for you anymore, I don't think you're ever coming.
i can't love you anymore, you don't love me like you did once before.

In Flight

my escape from reality
he has escaped my reality.
no fate nor destiny can fill me
with that vitality

my fresh breath of air
he has finally soared free
far away to the homeland
searching for a peace of mind endlessly

my vision of hope
he has left long ago
taking loads of faith with him
leaving for me only sorrow

Graphic Splatters

could I ever simplify

could i ever simplify such a natural form into a geometry,
could i impel true nature to surrender its arms
of bedazzling convolutes
and to surrender its disposition of
innocence and purity
could i turn it into a geometry,
so as to
relieve it of its convoluted shell and skin
and rid it of these inconsistencies
in favor of a quantifiable existence
to methodize and analyze
these natural tendencies.
how do we?
i still don't want to know how to
be this unaware.
dumb down the layers,
so that not so much as
one touch,
one reach,
could bemuse and excite and resonate
in the eyes and ears
and smile
of a child,
and lost is its concession
to faintly remain the most distant yet intimate
surrender humanly possible.

Architectural Woes

you can't fight for too long, eventually you'll realize that you're fighting yourself.
a mission to create something from within, although we don't yet know quite how to, we try.
and try.
a challenge to refute what is known,
what is right,
what is wrong,
and just follow when our minds want to succumb to our intuition.
not to neglect our intuition and stay true while maintaing a clear direction
and not distorting our intentions.

i cry through this object,
to you.
for you see,
all i have is merely the materials and tools in front of me
(that i can barely control)
to tell you how i feel.
to tell you what i think.
to change your mind.
to humbly make sense of a chaos
chaos that exists within an intangible and elite world of intellectual pervasiveness.

i'm telling you how i'm hurting.
i'm feeding you my depression.
i'm filling the deep void.

you have no idea what i'm talking about.

this wall is here.
this wood is bent.
i'm encompassing your body, i'm opening you up to the sky,
for that is what i am here to do.

this is my language.
this is the dialogue between me and the world.
this is my mind and soul
spewed out into bits
beautifully arranged into clouds that are merely made up of
air
and water.
and like water,
eventually it all evaporates into nothing

As We Build

a starting point. an entry into a diverse world of possibility that everyday allows for various paths of creativity. a combination of and a presentation of successes and failures. everyday a new endeavor and a new understanding.

the idea of community activity, where anyone can observe and feel a part of the moment. Spaces that wrap in and out of each other, to intersect, even if slightly.

pulling apart a box to reveal so slightly what is going on inside. the sense of pulling something apart to see its components.

proportions that are harmonious and subtle, not extreme or overpowering.

doomed for happiness

doomed for happiness.

thread count

you've caught the beast in me
and tamed it, at the seams
bursting so it seems
with life, is how are we
so unlikely to slow it down
crazy lives that never frown
crazy turns upside and down
so likely to be homeward bound

dizzy dizzy
as we run in circles
dizzy dizzy
love me love me
dizzy dizzy
so unlikely

oh how you grow
nobody knows
i do though
i can see it and i like it
i can see it and i want it
oh how you show
me love
i mean it

how i love to be lost with you in
San Dimas
how i love to go everywhere with you
how i love to go nowhere with you

beneath our skin
like breaths of fresh air
sheets of high supima
envelope us

how swell it seems
when it's bursting at the seams

when nobody is knowing
i'm watching watching
when you can't feel it,
i'm touching, touching
touching
touching
we are touching
touching
touching
like roots of a tree
we are swelling to be
in unity
you&me.

from the translations of another

In Persian, there are four levels of friendship each relating to a degree in closeness and intimacy:
Aashenaa (to know someone casually)
Doost (a close friend)
Rafeegh (your best friend)
Yaar (your inseparable lover)
However, these levels are independent of the type of physical connection you have with someone. These degrees of closeness explain your deep soul connection with another being; your spouse, therefore, may only be your Aashenaa, or you may have a perfect platonic relationship with a Yaar. Some mystics measure their intimacy with God and the Beloved by using these levels. For RUMI, the Beloved and Shams were one, and both (as one) were his Yaar. That could explain why Rumi’s verses are being dubbed “love poems.” Should they be anything less?”


Shahram Shiva on Rumi

sort of backwards

sort of backwards,
the reverse of most people.
funneling my life into a filter,
untangling one knot at a time.
tuning it down.
trying harder for less.
i'm always too much,
it's always too much,
more,
alot,
excess,
strong,
passion,
loud,
extremes,
many
variety,
maximum,
overwhelming.
throwing away.
down-sizing
down
sizing.
down
sizing.
editing,
refining,
confining,
defining.
editing.
refining.
confining.
defining.
This period.
.
.
Here's a period
.
Here's an end.
No more commas,
just a period.
Be deliberate.
Edit.
Edit.
Some things of chaotic essence cannot be bound or restricted,
some things need to fly free.
We can keep trying.
i'll edit.
i'll edit.
i'll edit.
some things just need to be free.
free.
free.
free.

Ideograms

Ideograms speak of genetic codes or basic seeds of organization that respond to a demand for combined effectiveness and operativeness: to attain with the minimum element the largest quantity of bits of information in order to obtain the greatest possible cohesion between the whole and the particular such that one is reflected in the other.

-The Metapolis dictionary of advanced architecture

what brings us here

What brings us here
isn't so much where we are headed
insofar as our paths can collide,
it's more of where we are coming from.
We shared a path once before we ever knew what lay ahead.
We shared moments once, in the form of flickering lights,
that seemed to synchronize almost completely.
But off just the slightest, most melodic bit.
We might have even shared a joke once before,
before we ever met.
The kind where we both stood up to wave around our arms and speak through our bodies.
This might just be the part where we can laugh our heads off,
that might just be what brought us together.
We could have believed in each other,
we might just have to believe in each other,
this might just be it,
let's believe in each other.

nileppez del

And yesterday I saw you kissing tiny flowers,
But all that lives is born to die.
And so I say to you that nothing really matters,
And all you do is stand and cry.

i love this poem

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)
i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)
i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

-e e cummings

tears are silent

tears are silent,
no one can hear them,
strip away fears
as they roll down your face.
years are silent,
they close their eyes to the world,
and collect in puddles
only ever known,
unto yourself,
you've only ever known.

waiting is like searching

waiting is like searching for breath under water
waiting for you, counting every hour
for the moment when you'll nod and smile
whispers like the wind will carry us for miles
while in the dark we roam
hold my hand, let's go home

Crosses all over, heavy on your shoulders
The sirens inside you waiting to step forward
Disturbing silence darkens your sight
We'll cast some light and you'll be alright for now

Costa Rica, 2007
Cómo decir que me parte en mil
las esquinitas de mis huesos,
que han caído los esquemas de mi vida
ahora que todo era perfecto.
Y algo más que eso,
me sorbiste el seso y me decían del peso
de este cuerpecito mío
que se ha convertío en río.
de este cuerpecito mío
que se ha convertío en río.

Me cuesta abrir los ojos
y lo hago poco a poco,
no sea que aún te encuentre cerca.
Me guardo tu recuerdo
como el mejor secreto,
que dulce fue tenerte dentro.

Hay un trozo de luz
en esta oscuridad
para prestarme calma.
El tiempo todo calma,
la tempestad y la calma,
el tiempo todo calma,
la tempestad y la calma.

Siempre me quedará
la voz suave del mar,
volver a respirar la lluvia que caerá
sobre este cuerpo y mojará
la flor que crece en mi,
y volver a reír
y cada día un instante volver a pensar en ti.
En la voz suave del mar,
en volver a respirar la lluvia que caerá
sobre este cuerpo y mojará
la flor que crece en mi,
y volver a reír
y cada día un instante volver a pensar en ti.

Cómo decir que me parte en mil
las esquinitas de mis huesos,
que han caído los esquemas de mi vida
ahora que todo era perfecto.
Y algo más que eso,
me sorbiste el seso y me decían del peso
de este cuerpecito mío
que se ha convertío en río.
de este cuerpecito mío
que se ha convertío en río.

Siempre me quedará
la voz suave del mar,
volver a respirar la lluvia que caerá
sobre este cuerpo y mojará
la flor que crece en mi,
y volver a reír
y cada día un instante volver a pensar en ti.
En la voz suave del mar,
en volver a respirar la lluvia que caerá
sobre este cuerpo y mojará
la flor que crece en mi,
y volver a reír
y cada día un instante volver a pensar en ti.

Bebe.

Insanity

those moments when you've hit insanity, when you realize how lost you really are,

are your most human moments ever.