the poem that is alive

Bits added most days beginning 1st Feb 25.
Words that struck my head like bells. This is a diary. 

A life came to you and told you to run. blue organ; a woman woke up an orphan. piano fur coat. I cowered to the light of the lamp. My Self floats on the bike shadow and for a moment i understand the word motion, momentum. there are things I will never know how to drink. I admit my heart is wet. can’t you see what you’re doing? You're writing your will in front of me and leaving me nothing, can’t you see that's what you're doing?

I dreamt you did something terrible but everyone reviewed my poetry kindly. and that night i drew guitar strings on a matchbox.

... lines that I wrote at thirteen and fifteen showed up much later, reconstituted slightly, in poems that survived

Firstborn, begun when I was eighteen and finished when I was twenty three, was rejected twenty-eight times and finally accepted by New American Library...

I would like to hear i love you. i am going to write another book. this is the early 20s chunk of home where everything that happened is probably still happening. this is my vase of poems. this is my Will as it stands at 24: throw a massive party, go on holiday (all of you) don’t buy anything tangible. I love you all (with all of love).  I fly easier because this can be known. On this earth religion never found me, on this earth nihilism failed me also.

The world would never have been on time for how warm it was, a previous year crept into this overlap. everything ached. 

You will feel lonely everywhere, you will feel loved everywhere. This has no meaning it is just the truth: a smooth opal sea, a glacier cloud blocking the sunset. You shouldn't get angry your feet are wet if you are walking on the beach through the tide pools.

You were cruel once so now you are cruel always. March:

The air becomes unnoticeable and unmoving, cooling towards the evening like bath water. Love can be enough and also not enough. Everything can fluctuate: the worst thing, the best thing, in a delicate balance. 

Everything can wait for you down there. stay here a while where there is nothing to think about

I cannot write about it.

I don’t know where to put my hands.

you fall to floor and think ‘i am falling to the floor. i am bleeding’ and then you must get up from the floor, and ten years must happen in succession.

Lots of things can exist in one day.