Whisper

The opposite of living is not dying –
it is not living.
Existing is different. Surviving is different.
Counting minutes under
breaths of air and
dollar signs
is different

In many ways

life is but a whisper in a scheme,
a breath of air exhaled in wait.

I want to gather up branches
to crown the fruit of time
framed by genuine sound –
accidental laughter or
unexpected song –
what you hear when you catch people
whispering in wait.

Let’s just
stop contemplating history
and remember why we’re here –

Philosophy is a prescription for over-thinking;
dangerous when abused,
necessary for this stage of outburst –
poison overflowing cup,
just enough so that the first sip won’t kill you
and the next
might
but not in the sense of dying,
just in the sense of
the opposite of living.

Let’s just
keep contemplating
in the sense of gazing
like at stars
in space
where everything was known and never spoken,
translated into light and understood
and maybe surreal
in the sense of “above”,
“above-real”
but just for then,
for now,
for right,
for real,
it was real
and with real
and that moment, framed
with sound of unexpected song,
silent,
only felt
as ungasped gasp,
as a slowing of time,
as a stop
because this is living,
this is real,
this is –

Let’s just
keep contemplating –

I want to hear you whisper before you leave.

EJZ 07.29.2015

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The Life of a Flower

Temporal, sweet, aromatic

A pause for reflection

Beginning from so tiny a seed
and rushing to bloom
elegantly

And now
With petals like paper
So delicate, fragile, yet so
alive

still

and soft
and held here
in this moment
I won’t forget you

If only as withered colors in a jar

EJZ 04.03.2015

Untitled II

Life goes on whether you show up or not.
People change.
Things happen.
Time goes on
apart from your existence

but you’d never know it
because you weren’t there.

You’d only know if you’d show up.

But then other things would happen
unbeknownst to you.

Are we missing out on all those things
we try to believe haven’t happened?

Who are we?
How do we choose?

We go to sleep and wake up
and so did everyone else we see the next day
but we never think
about that –

until one day
that

doesn’t happen.

Time goes on.
Things happen.
People change.

Some of them don’t wake up.

And then what?

Life still happens
like nobody knows
or remembers
because they don’t –
they’re too busy

not showing up.

EJZ 03.30.2015

Life, The Day After

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Woke up in a storm and I was drowning,
suffocating
on my lungs that couldn’t scream,
grasping for truth,
gripping
the lies I was fed.

The sweetness comes with a bitter pill,
The sweetness
never comes

until you spit in the face of the man who made it rain in the first place.

Woke up in the storm
but you were awake.

There is life the day after the storm.

EJZ 02.06.2015

On Your Birthday

I dreamt I was in a field of four leaf clovers
Emerald green
Soft enough to let them hold me
Rocking me in the sunlight
The freshest air my lungs had ever known
The scent of the newness of spring
and rebirth
Laughter
and sunshine
and no rain.

And then I remembered what you told me,
that your thirteenth birthday
was on Friday the 13th
and that made you the luckiest man alive
because luck
and life
are what you make them.

Dedicated to JLZ
04.13.1943 – 01.14.2010
Happy birthday in heaven.

EJZ 4.13.2015

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