The Last Mile

October 5, 2007 § Leave a comment

You were sinking beyond my view;
I swam out to save you.
By the time, I reached your lagoon-
I chanced the dance of your last tune.
Why are giving away your song…
Your name is long,
vanished in my mind;
I leave you behind.
Back to the shore
I grew sore.
It was the longest swam;
I hunger for you in the damn.

 

© Sonya Rose

The Power of Dreams

October 5, 2007 § Leave a comment

A thousand empty stares
fills my glass
with fear of pain,
swallowed in a mass
of past lovers and leavers.
Where do they all go?-
To the pits of where
I do not know.
I stand looking
across a glass tower;
Watch sweet
turn bitter-sour.
My mind
is merely a seascape:
My soul
ceases to escape-
this hunger,
burns at the seams.
Don’t deny now
the power of your dreams…

 

© Sonya Rose

Chaos Central

October 4, 2007 § Leave a comment

A galactic gravitational force
within the spiral shaped curvature
of the space-time galaxy-
is not something I think of everyday.
I don’t know what is the shape-
of things to come;
but, I know form has meaning.

(E=mc2) is interchangeable,
mass and energy
paired up with a kind of
nothingness … emptiness
doesn’t seem to matter,
now, does it?-
winding in from outside
accounting for the weirdness.

My intelligence is enchanted.

By what you ask?

My ancestors, a genius Jew…
The universe … as I know it:
Chaotic—
Classic theory, a reality.

My logical words
fail me
every so often:
when I think right…

I’m in a surreal world—
with Dali;
He could paint a still-life
of a space-time landscape—
Matches my friend’s talk of illusion:
Is not just poetry.
Why never Dali painted
the Disappearing Bust
of Da Vinci?

Da Vinci was the master
of remarkable illusion~
Have you seen the dining room wall
of the Monastery of Santa Maria delle Grazie?
I have not and so is my misfortune—
Or journey in my mind to Milan.

Da Vinci would combine
corners of walls
with paintings…
I sometimes walk
inside of it…
It does seem possible:
Does it?
I’m not sure

if I am an artist anymore—
Not sure of my methods,
haven’t painted in a while…
Those prancing horses and battles…
And strange horseman
Dali was more aware
of that mossy wall.
I recognize the influence…
Remember the story of the Italian
who lived during The Renaissance?
He grew up dirt poor;
surrounded himself with culture
and knowledge from the start…

One day, he visited Da Vinci
with his father
and they spoke of geometry
long hours in the night…
Does anyone do that today—
Discuss matters…?

There is always this connection
with people in the arts…
I can’t explain it
and it’s not just your root of
humble beginnings …
It’s more…
Some curious combination—
You may not be good at math;
But, you are a big part in
powerful mathematical conceptions,
complex numbers, probabilities,

strange ideas in the hidden mysteries
of the sub-atomic world.

So, we all love modern thoughts;
but are we aware of it’s origins?
…mystical visionaries—
Dali and his treasures
buried beneath the trash
of those who think they were smarter.
Sometimes our perceptions are distorted.

Most called Dali crazy.
Why did he meet

with prominent scientists,
chaos theorists—
Even in his later stages of life?
Who influenced Prigogine—
others involved in the creation
of the new physics.
My guess would have been Dali~
He was fascinating…

We all are caught daydreaming…

Even on my way out west—
the Indian men I saw
in the red rocks
I, too, reflect on the wonder
all around me…
I took notice
as I dreamed away:
Nature seem to change shape
from one figure to the next…
in the space of the spirit.

Do we, too, become constantly
our opposite…
Dissembling, ambivalent,
hypocritical, disguised,
vague, and concrete…?

Why was not Dali-
The 20th Century Da Vinci?

You and I have one feature in common:
Irregularity—With a peculiar kind of order,
insights into the natural world…

Can you paint fast enough:
the face of a cloud…
the path of lightning…
the galaxy of stars?
The wildness of the wind
has effects on everything,

you and me:
unpredictable,
repetitive…

…have you ever lost sync
only to pick up
another rhythm?
From my window,
I hear the vehicles-
on the freeway…
chaotic patterns.10:
The science of beginnings…
Understanding why
I move with them…
Why everything
moves with me—
Every artist or scientist
has an eye
for pattern…

Has a rebellious imagination…
Experienced those random,

complex thoughts,
taking leaps in their heads
along jagged edges,
bleeding…
No easy way to get out
of the mind…
We are looking
for the whole:
the mystical themes…

Today, is the day to let go—
I’m not polished,
I bit messy like nature itself…

Oh, those drifting clouds…
Take me away~
I can’t stand

all the gossip;
Tell me facts…
My hum-drum world
is more exciting;
My sense of scientific intuition.

If I look back on my life someday~
The events were never alike.
How can I rewrite the details
with again the same passion?…
When I could lend the slogan:
“The Straw That Broke the Camel’s Back”?

It’s beyond my capacity—
Impossible to predict
which way my story will go
after what has happened…
How can I predict its outcome
of random events…?

The mysteries of ourselves
can be decoded:
I think…

A fundamental connection
with the universe~

Does history really repeat itself?

I’m evolving in my skin
and extremely sensitive;
Are you watching me—
God?-

Every move I make?
How do you predict my behavior?-
Mathematically by my genes?-
My conditioning…
Outside the control setting…
Who knows?

That’s why someone told me
“Forget everything”…
Easier said.

So, now, we are:

Jack-and-Jill-of-All-Trades.
How many good tricks-
do you know?-
Better come up with a few
before you snap
like the twig I saw
fall in a storm,
land before my feet…
I, too, have to focus
on abrupt change;
I’ve had many…
like my computer-

has a system…
I’m drawn to it
like two lovers~
associated…
separated by distance.

How do they behave
in miraculous ways?
Are we all unstable
coming together…
and breaking apart…?

Things happen.
People can be mad.
Nothings the same again
for broken relationships,
families…

Everyone winds up suffering
one way or another…
All kinds of problems
one way or another;
Once a family is broken up—
It’s never the same…
Repeat the repetitive year after year;
Chaos controls the mind…

So many accomplishments
in my family—No one sees
as a big deal … No one says:
“you made it”:
“I’m proud of you”…
How do we grow
out of a negative
environment and be happy?

There’s more than one genius
in a family.

Pick an outlet to plug into:
alcohol, gambling, socializing,
entertainment…
I’ll pick poetry, art,
my ramblings…
I’m amused
where the pain goes.
Remember this…
(for the next generation):
It only takes ONE person to CLAP…
And I’m not going to make sense
of everyone’s actions…
Or why I write
out of nothingness…

How do we try our best
to keep the weirdness
of our lives
understandable…
Document it to a minimum,
leaving names and their actions out…

In my head, a knot, a twist…
how ever far I am…
There is a movement-
which holds us all together…

Falling into this hypnotic state
through quantum lenses,
a film through which we see-
the world whole,
a universe outside of ourselves.

Returning to the heavens—
We all are spread out weeping…
because we haven’t stopped sweeping,
the foundation of matter
of ourselves … dust, climbing out…

May we see the far reaches
of this galaxy and beyond;
but, first let me take-
some aspirin
as I have thought
too much this hour…
My brain is splitting…
Interesting…
how the words flow.
I won’t hold onto my dreams
too tightly here in Hollywood.
Better luck playing the lottery
as Bill Maher would say~

Tonight, I’ll watch some science fiction…
“Star Wars”—because there is no reality…
And the unreal is possible—There’s me
…and the lights, mirrors, and illusions;
and the kid outside screaming at his friend,
“You’re a big loser!”…
and the sound of glass shattering
as the teased boy stomps—
creating different shaped, sized pieces…

Now, calm and obviously disturbed.

 

© Sonya Rose

Dolma

October 4, 2007 § Leave a comment

Eating something stuffed:

A savoury, well-seasoned filling

wrapped in a casing of grape leaves-

filled with rice, pine nuts,

raisins, and herbs, though this

Lamb … can’t understand…

What will I need now?

Sunglasses are everywhere…

Let me finish eating:

I have different thoughts

when I think of

olive oil.

With every dish,

salt and pepper to taste,

and the juice of one lemon…

Could not resist the fresh mint.

If I had grapevines in a garden,

I would be lucky;

If I had a garden … a kiss-

I’d let your roses grow~

…being laid out to dry?

The leaves who get burned

every once-in-a-while…

May I just dream of…

timeless luxury?

Still unsure about my feelings

with the Watchmaker-

’cause he calls me Slow.

I tried to put up with everything.

…should have said:

I shouldn’t … put up with everything.

Oh, this Essence of Experience-

…now how exactly did I push

my way through these doors

without loosing my identity?…

I gave away freely my belongings,

money to get here…

Was not in the right frame of mind.

How can I cope … to get places

that I wish to go?

I depend on this big group…

and my sister’s waiting for events

to take us somewhere.

I’ll be getting involved with strangers.

Taking a good look around…

Not where I planned to be:

Not going to miss the bus this time.

I am trying to leave-

something behind: negative feelings-

in this small room…

Just wait for me…

La da da dee da da da da
La da da dee da da da da

Oh, the beat in my heart…

 

© Sonya Rose

The Stinging Rain

October 4, 2007 § Leave a comment

A dream glitters in the multitude.
Growing warmer, I am in the mood
to dance and fly across the floor;
through the underground, I want more…
Flecks of brightness dart in your eyes.
A Blue Heaven, flutter my butterflies…
I dance with you when you are blue;
laugh with you, too.

Why do I float by the edge…
a tunnel of tears on a ledge.
So you run for shelter from the stinging rain:
Find you hiding in back of the world by a drain.

 

© Sonya Rose

Star of Truth

October 1, 2007 § Leave a comment

“A Man is born under a certain star and has to conduct his life under its dominion; but, nevertheless, it is up to him to decide which of the powers and possibilities contained by the star he will develop and bring to full maturity in himself.” — Michelangelo

 

…It was a dream, a revelation
which stimulated my intellect,
asked so many questions,
and moved my soul and heart.

Looking back, my view
of the world, others…
My family has changed.

I’m just coming back
from the night;
experiencing a little break
and that can change—
any moment.

His music, his dance—
did break my heart:
Captivated my design.

I’m uncomfortably free again…
from that overpowering force
which caused me great distress.

Someone who only I could see—
or no one acknowledged at the time.

Frustrated…
It does not matter: my emotions
really…

People can be so cruel.
And I like true stories…
makes a dream very touching.

I like the man from the stars;
I like a great storyteller
who takes me for a ride in the galaxy.

I was scared of him at first…
Now, he doesn’t speak…
All at once, the torture and abuse
came over him…
That feeling of shock and disgust
was hard for me to describe…

How I saw the world through his eyes—
those images behind the scary mask…

A solitary tear ran down my face
in pity…
I know his pain…
of years of failing.

It’s not that simple…
It’s more bizarre by the minute:
The horrific scenes…
The zoo animals in the backseat…

How could I put a stop to the screams?

Should have done something sooner…
My heart turned to knots;
every time he looked at me…

He wasn’t a freak of nature;
A part of nature, really…
nothing different.

And sooner or later, we all can’t sleep
because of something:
Bullied, beaten, and pushed…
“What’s it all about?” I ask.

Yes, I learned more through him:
His life horrified me…
Brutally truthful and extraordinary.

Some call him “The Elephant Man”…
He called me: Vitruvian Woman;
as I was surrounded by five
men increasing…

There is a secret geometry—
in the human design.

Who was that man under his mask?
Who makes me run, hide, and study…?

I’m waiting patiently for the message…
By random and/or choice … asking him if I
could come in, once … again.

The light is constant, even in this darkness…
In this best kept secret dream…
Keeping an eye on what’s happening.

…Is my mind a mirror?

I could tell—
I do grasp things and receive;
but, do I keep
the subtle Star of Truth?;
for its power lies deep in me waiting,
wanting to be protected and directed.

 

© Sonya Rose

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