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Location: Midwest, United States

"Power lines, my travlin' partner on this ride. Dripping, pulling - up and down, in this sing song, their lullaby blends with the swaying train. I curl myself into this journey; folding myself up into this pocket of time. Old familiars greet me - that swing set in the back yard, the ruins of an old church covered in new birth and old - mixed with unremembered newness." Journal Entry, October 13, 2005~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~All words are copyrighted by GoGo on a Page/gogoroku.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

Random Findings While Reorganizing

Monday, May 30, 2005 - 5:39am
Sitting here watching time go by
while writing these lines.
Watching people sleep
while cleaning their messes.
Tired of waiting for me
to get through this mood.

Today's to do tasks
awaits me when this shift is done.
Clean the house, clean the laundry,
clean my mind of the past.
Miss Ray and Chad all in the same day.
This mood has become my metronome
to my daily task - one beat, two beat, three -
missing something - the counterpoint to time.

A neighbor of mine had an epiphany again,
that everything happens for a reason.
She shares her mantra thinking every time
is the first time. I appreciate this
redudancy in insight and love how this
un-novel novelty reinvents itself in her.

I adjust my clock by her words, trusting
everything happens for a reason.
Everyone in my life is here for
a reason, even if they are limited to a season.

I trust that death and leaving offer
impermanence and impermanence
is what will make the next two years
doable. That doesn't stop the constant
beat in my head going on and on, when
will this sadness end. When will I stop
watching time pass and away from this mood?

The Neighborhood
Casual evening at home,
sitting on the porch,
watching the night go by.
My neighbrohood is city and lights.
The stop sign, covers the Rene's
in the hairshop sign,
and from the stop
grows the branches of a tree
that hangs under the street lamp -
street light falling on the road,
like a flood of orange
fading into shadows
covering me on the porch
in a casual night at home.

Ghost in the Chord
A ghost in a chord
Everything there long since mourned
I’d show you the key to unlocking
Your door…but not wanting to give
Just a little bit more.
I close my eyes to nothing there,
And realized there is nothing there.
Just the manifestation of a ghost in a chord
Nothing to see, nothing to hold, just
Me giving to you, me giving to you, then giving of me
to a ghost in a chord.
Take my silence as an epitaph, a final eulogy
To this ghost in a chord.

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