Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Left On Earth
When do you know that the light is out?
That death is just death, and your time is just out...
Is it finished, and gone, and forever just black?
Is it your way or my way, is it this way or that?
I can’t believe it is final and that it is simply just gone forever,
We sat talking about it all, so happily here together.
If happiness lives in our conversation, so steadily herein,
How can it just be gone forever, and over so quickly when...
When he loved so very very much and lived life so fully then,
Like a blue sky and grass as green as the most alluring garden.
Conversations here and now don’t make this topic forthright,
And no matter how you say it, it just doesn’t make it alright.
That the big love and a life is gone when that light eventually goes out,
And you just cant change that, not even with all your might.
You can never win, because God is big and he is here,
And the fact is just that death is going to forever be nadir.
In our face and simply a way we have to be,
like the salt on our skin while we holiday at the sea.
It’s a way of life and a normal way to exist,
A happiness to live in, or simply a cease and desist.
Because the stairway to heaven is unfair and unleaven,
It’s never what you agreed to in your life’s contracts written.
It’s a sad time and an exceptionally vulnerable place to be,
It’s actually nothing like the salt on our skin while we holiday at the sea...
So can we believe that the light just flickers and then goes out?
That death is just death, and that your time is just out?
Is it the storybook version or otherwise just the hard black cover?
And if it is just that, will we ever be able to believe that its just over when its over?
© Dylan Balkind 2008
That death is just death, and your time is just out...
Is it finished, and gone, and forever just black?
Is it your way or my way, is it this way or that?
I can’t believe it is final and that it is simply just gone forever,
We sat talking about it all, so happily here together.
If happiness lives in our conversation, so steadily herein,
How can it just be gone forever, and over so quickly when...
When he loved so very very much and lived life so fully then,
Like a blue sky and grass as green as the most alluring garden.
Conversations here and now don’t make this topic forthright,
And no matter how you say it, it just doesn’t make it alright.
That the big love and a life is gone when that light eventually goes out,
And you just cant change that, not even with all your might.
You can never win, because God is big and he is here,
And the fact is just that death is going to forever be nadir.
In our face and simply a way we have to be,
like the salt on our skin while we holiday at the sea.
It’s a way of life and a normal way to exist,
A happiness to live in, or simply a cease and desist.
Because the stairway to heaven is unfair and unleaven,
It’s never what you agreed to in your life’s contracts written.
It’s a sad time and an exceptionally vulnerable place to be,
It’s actually nothing like the salt on our skin while we holiday at the sea...
So can we believe that the light just flickers and then goes out?
That death is just death, and that your time is just out?
Is it the storybook version or otherwise just the hard black cover?
And if it is just that, will we ever be able to believe that its just over when its over?
© Dylan Balkind 2008
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Your Own Little History
I smelt my childhood just now and remembered some things,
When games were games and a win was just a win…
Like…
Playoffs in yards as kids with imagination,
with demons and horses and gates you open to let yourself in –
to crevices and crannies in worlds far away,
a time I often wish I could go to, as easily today.
Smells might vanish but they’ll leave an air of mystery,
taking you to special times and places in your own little history.
Heartache or happiness from falling or riding a bike,
memories all the same, from very special parts of your life.
We grow up so quickly and so easily forget,
what made us happy was playing in puddles and getting wet.
An innocence and an outlook so unpolluted and untainted,
and pictures so colourfully and uninhibitedly painted.
Poignant questions become exam test and class results,
giving way to insecurities and bouts of competitive clout.
Not so wholesome, and imagination is lost therein,
and no more games are played – where a win is just a win.
Indeed, if we set our hearts to answer but one very famous question*,
we might open a lion’s wardrobe finding another universe to jump in –
to remember happiness and simplicity and things that were really important,
and enforce a reawakening of those things that were previously so dormant.
“Have you seen my Childhood” or smelt it go this way?
I want its innocence back and I am eagerly awaiting the day –
I’ll own it again and remember completely what made me – me,
an unafraid and challenging little boy, so boldly facing the sea.
With the sun on my face and the dunes at my back,
I’m throwing my inhibitions in the superfluous emo sack.
I'm going to go gallantly forward with my memory and smell in tact,
not losing the impetus to say and do what made me write just that.
Games in yards as kids with creative imagination,
a world you control and gates you open to let yourself in –
to coves and gardens and a happiness you found far away,
so remember who you are, and find Your happiness today.
© Dylan Balkind 2008
*Rabbi Yehuda Leib HaLevi Ashlag
When games were games and a win was just a win…
Like…
Playoffs in yards as kids with imagination,
with demons and horses and gates you open to let yourself in –
to crevices and crannies in worlds far away,
a time I often wish I could go to, as easily today.
Smells might vanish but they’ll leave an air of mystery,
taking you to special times and places in your own little history.
Heartache or happiness from falling or riding a bike,
memories all the same, from very special parts of your life.
We grow up so quickly and so easily forget,
what made us happy was playing in puddles and getting wet.
An innocence and an outlook so unpolluted and untainted,
and pictures so colourfully and uninhibitedly painted.
Poignant questions become exam test and class results,
giving way to insecurities and bouts of competitive clout.
Not so wholesome, and imagination is lost therein,
and no more games are played – where a win is just a win.
Indeed, if we set our hearts to answer but one very famous question*,
we might open a lion’s wardrobe finding another universe to jump in –
to remember happiness and simplicity and things that were really important,
and enforce a reawakening of those things that were previously so dormant.
“Have you seen my Childhood” or smelt it go this way?
I want its innocence back and I am eagerly awaiting the day –
I’ll own it again and remember completely what made me – me,
an unafraid and challenging little boy, so boldly facing the sea.
With the sun on my face and the dunes at my back,
I’m throwing my inhibitions in the superfluous emo sack.
I'm going to go gallantly forward with my memory and smell in tact,
not losing the impetus to say and do what made me write just that.
Games in yards as kids with creative imagination,
a world you control and gates you open to let yourself in –
to coves and gardens and a happiness you found far away,
so remember who you are, and find Your happiness today.
© Dylan Balkind 2008
*Rabbi Yehuda Leib HaLevi Ashlag
Monday, September 1, 2008
Écouter / Myself
Tomorrow I get up and go at it again,
wanting it and summoning the courage to let the new in.
Running again but not on the path of least resistance,
nor succumbing to failure along the path of least persistence.
I remember you like it was yesterday, coming in from the cold,
you drove it home and personified ‘fortune favouring the bold.’
Watching you do it is an easy-to-grasp sense of bliss,
never willing to lose, even sixty seconds of happiness.
Scared inside but brave while looking out,
we’re stronger when friends help us ditch our debilitating doubt.
Tomorrow I get up, try, and go at it again,
believing, wanting, and summoning the courage to let the light in.
What makes you stay and love endlessly?
Knowing you knowing me, tirelessly and so touchingly.
Courage is being afraid but going on anyhow,
no matter how simple or staggeringly high brow.
nor succumbing to failure along the path of least persistence.
I remember you like it was yesterday, coming in from the cold,
you drove it home and personified ‘fortune favouring the bold.’
Watching you do it is an easy-to-grasp sense of bliss,
never willing to lose, even sixty seconds of happiness.
Scared inside but brave while looking out,
we’re stronger when friends help us ditch our debilitating doubt.
Tomorrow I get up, try, and go at it again,
believing, wanting, and summoning the courage to let the light in.
What makes you stay and love endlessly?
Knowing you knowing me, tirelessly and so touchingly.
Courage is being afraid but going on anyhow,
no matter how simple or staggeringly high brow.
Walk like the sun is your spotlight, and let the light shine in,*
more powerful than the will to win, is having the will to begin.**
I know some things are fairy dust and other things are just a myth,
but I know that grasping and living happiness, is also having someone to do it with.
Ambition is something you want to hold on to for longer than long,
And something you pine for, drunkenly when it is gone.
But having friends to kick it with and remind you how,
Is the greatest display of fireworks I’ve seen until now.
My belief in me and my hunger has returned,
so tomorrow I go at it again, even though I might get burned.
Believing and summoning the courage to let a new light in,
because more powerful than the will to win, is having the will to begin.
more powerful than the will to win, is having the will to begin.**
I know some things are fairy dust and other things are just a myth,
but I know that grasping and living happiness, is also having someone to do it with.
Ambition is something you want to hold on to for longer than long,
And something you pine for, drunkenly when it is gone.
But having friends to kick it with and remind you how,
Is the greatest display of fireworks I’ve seen until now.
My belief in me and my hunger has returned,
so tomorrow I go at it again, even though I might get burned.
Believing and summoning the courage to let a new light in,
because more powerful than the will to win, is having the will to begin.
© Dylan Balkind 2008
* Merran Williamson
** Unknown Author
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