She Knows

She Knows 

Written by Patrick B Oviedo 

March 2nd, 2015 

She knows 

Even though her days can wane with frustration and disenchantment 

Sometimes 
That bright eyed silly little girl still sings within the ennui woman she seems to be 

All I can do is breath 

She knows 
Although jaded smiles, tired stares and numbing uninspired conversations prolong 

Somehow 
Childhood fantasies, adolescent dreams and the aspirations of a brave fully realized woman persist 

All I can do is breath 

She knows 
Drear mornings, a dull pabulum table, and empty evenings sitting alone through tearful pauses 

Somewhere 
So much more waits beyond that hazy window, down the street, across the city 
In her hands soft and tethered within that rapturous creature some wounded hound longs to see 

All I can do is breath 

She knows 
I can feel her gaze on me in passing 
Her laugh makes me want to listen 

She knows 
I can live in the glimmer of that smile forever 
I’d brave one thousand years of desolation and death to feel her skin on my face 
To share a long respire 
Fingers tangled in my hair and my palms on the small of her waist pulling her on to me 

She knows 
And all I can do is breath 

Nada Mas, Nada Menos

Nada Mas, Nada Menos

WRITTEN BY PATRICK B OVIEDO JR. NOVEMBER 7TH, 2013

Susurros del viento en este espacio de reposo

Sin piedad me despierta a una batalla de emociones, confundido, desorientado

Invade llevando el humo de algún lugar del fuego lejano

No puedo oler el humo, sólo la esencia de piel en esa lisa curva desde su cuello a su hombro

La resonancia de su voz me persigue sin descanso

En mis recuerdos la veo caminar hacia mí.  Se acerca, más cerca, más cerca

Su rostro radiante con una cautelosa mirada, su risa, evocaciones  que son imborrables

Recuerdo la vista cuando ella se alejó caminando despacito

Que me inspira es innegable

En un momento sin dudarlo me dejó nada más que hacer

Anhelando ella, se llena este pecho palpitante al punto de reventar

Ella desesperadamente busca santuario y valorización silencioso

Por ella y su ternura no se puede tolerar cualquier dolor ni un momento más

Dice que no puedo ser su hombre, para ella solamente 

Y así es que la quiero, desde una distancia tan vasto como el Universo y la eternidad, inacapable, con respeto, con dignidad, en silencio.

Porque hay nada más que pueda hacer y simplemente puedo hacer nada menos

NOT KNOWING

Not Knowing...
written by Moralygray 10/06/2013


Humbled... I retreat to that pseudo sanctuary now...
I admit a place not so genuine as one should expect...
What might others think of it?  I can not say, not knowing...

Dwelling there, are one perhaps two appreciable pieces of art...
One sketched by a brave young Artist, who is ebbing towards blindness everyday...
Afflicted by a deteriorating inherited condition...
The piece... An image of his good eye...
A clear example of tremendous vision and he not having sight... Could he see it once finished?
I bought it years ago... For eighty bucs... Obviously, I ripped the poor guy off... It's all I had...
Has he finally lost all of his sight?  Does his vision persist?  I can not say, not knowing...

The other piece, cracking on a stretched canvas...
Eighties era political satire somehow still poignant...
The style, passé possibly...
Rescued from a shelter for drug addicts... It had been abuse... Had things thrown at it...
It was painted by some unknown junky that may have died...
Died years ago... Died?  I can not say, not knowing...

All else on these red wood walls, emboldened unsophisticated efforts to mimic those other dabblers of the medium who went first...
Styles contrived... Californication... A synonym for that impotent sybaritism...
Fake... Lauded... Praised... Highly valued by tacky people... From that LA Milieu...
Bargain basin crap at the discount crafts supply store...
Might there have been some actual intrinsic heart felt meaning to those that praise it...
I just can't get into their heads... I can not say, not knowing...

A Haiku scribbled onto the remanence of a cardboard box that was once a case of Irish whiskey...
It clings to a cheap balsa wood covered door with a push pin... Prominent, crooked, askew, perfect...
Written by a new found friend; brilliant poet Derrick Selb...
"EVENTUALLY SISYPHUS LEARNED TO LOVE CRUSHED FLOWERS."
I'm certain of it's poignancy... A sentiment relevant to a cathartic exit from his own unique tribulations...
Others will see it and be affected so... They will weep and cheer...
A cracked wooden handled ice pick against a colossal block of ice...
I find it now, an epitaph to the pertinence of my guileful, ever so aloof, irreverent muse...
Someone once said, "What you refuse yourself in this world, you will be denied in the next."
I regret my past lives...
My love, a soft scented sandalwood Mala bead on a string of one hundred and eight unrequited loves...
She gave up on me... I've been here before... Unfulfilled, aroused, erect, this side of nirvana...
Each time I am told... I am to be spared pain, But it is the same at the beginning, the middle or the end...
The pain persist... She doesn't want me... She never has, never did... truly...
How could she not have seen that we are one and the same...
I dare not ask her for fear of that dreadful reaffirmation... Nothing...
I can only walk away now... I simply can not say... Not knowing ~

The Day I Wish I Slept In

THE DAY I WISH I SLEPT IN

BY MORALYGRAY WRITTEN 10-05-2013

I AM YOUR FORGOTTEN BROKEN TOY AT THE BOTTOM OF THE BOX...

DROPPED RIGHT BACK INTO THAT BARGAIN BASIN, LIKE A PAIR OF CHEAP, COOL LOOKING SUNGLASSES THAT FIT YOUR FACE CROOKED...

I JUST KEEP RAMBLING ON INTO OBLIVION...

WHEELS TURNING IN THE MUD, KICKING UP NOTHING...

DESTINED TO GO NOWHERE...

SENTIMENTS LOST LIKE A HARSH WHISPER INTO A HOWLING WIND...

I WAS WERE NEVER THERE...

COMPARTMENTALIZED...

RENDERED BENIGNANT...

A FAMILIAR STRANGER...

COMMON...

MEANINGLESS...

NONESSENTIAL...

RESOLVED...

A PAIR NAMELESS HAZEL EYES IN A FOG OF UNWANTED MEMORIES...

EFFETE

While she remains distant, I dream.

Every Moment ~ Each Day

Patrick B Oviedo Jr

Circa The Fading Winter of 2013

I picture with every moment's passage of each day I command ~ Your presence

I picture your busy toil. Adhering to responsibilities with an empirical will, honest, sincere

Enthralled with your intellect

Enamored with your watchful sensitivity and discernment

I imagine listening intently as you counsel those less fortunate, expounding grace and wisdom

Your voice fill every open space of my heart

It threatens to burst it and then fill all else that is me

Each peer into that thoughtful gaze engages and enslaves my wonder

I imagine what it would be to feel the quiescent touch of your hand on my chest

I imagine your deep restful exhale across my shoulder and ruff

I imaging the warmth of your supple form pressed upon me ~ Eyes closed ~ In celestial sleep

And I would give up my very next breath and every other there after

To fully realize all of your aspirations, those childhood promises fulfilled

To fully entail your happiness whole

Life replete, at peace ~ Complete

And in a waking dream I cherish the aroma of your hair caressing my face

And the delicate taste of my lips softly placed upon that tiny scar that has long since faded

Faded along with the angst from which it was so created long ago

I picture this ~ With every moment's passage of each day ~ I command

When You Just Can't Stop Thinking About Her...

     What to do when you just can't stop thinking about her?  An age old question many would presume ~ must be a wonderful feeling.  A condition all may know, all too well, and if not ~ May we all be so lucky as to experience this "Thing," some day.  Call it infatuation, obsession, intrigue or dare I say ~ the L word.  Well now ~ Let's just say, that each of us, fortunate enough to experience this "Thing," must determine that for themselves.  For certain you are very much alive with the caveat that the proof of which is in the symptoms... There is a loss of appetite, insomnia, difficulty concentrating, anxiety, possibly sheer terror, bewilderment, and unmitigated excitement!  All culminating in the overwhelming desire to be around her your every waking moment... Still ~ the question remains.  What do you do when you just can't stop thinking about her!  To which I must propone ~ I would be remiss in my responsibilities as a rambling fool and street guru, to offer you said advise, without really knowing your particular circumstances... There are many ways this could play out for you, from resulting in a dearly sought out life epiphany ~ To, well ~ A restraining order... Yes, I know, not exactly the answer you were hoping for!  Hey now, this blog does after all have the words "Rambles On" in the main title, so um please, let us spare the pule... Still ~ perhaps there in lays the answer... Maybe the question is not what to do, but should you do "something," and the answer to that is, Yes!  Do something. Make that something uncompromisingly thoughtful, honest and sincere.  You may just get your heart broken, or you may enter a world of the most beauteous magic... Either way you'll know; she'll know ~ you are both very much alive!

What to do about new possibilities?

     In a conversation with a new friend I found myself enthralled; inspired; hopeful for more... When she posed the question, "Patrick, what do suppose is happening, psychologically?"  At first I thought, from a clinicians perspective, 'That is one of those questions one poses to redirect; to re-establish a boundary when there has been encroachment, and it is a caring and ethical way to promote introspect.'  Also you might think the rolls of therapist and patient are in play here,  which in turn is not at all what I'd hoped for... As such, I didn't have an immediate clear answer and then having re-evaluated the possible motivation behind the query; I realized there really was a genuine caring in the intrigue... Perhaps in instances like these, there may be two therapist at work...

     The answer is the same for all of us, each time we make a healthy connection with another human being... Each time we make a genuine new friend, or form a new healthy love interest, or re-establish an old relationship, or even just form a new acquaintance with a compatible goal (such as a group of individuals with the same love for words)... We start pulling for the same team, 'Us.'  We commence with the healing... 

     I can not help but wonder about the possibilities... If we can each begin by being selfless and offer ourselves onto the connection, without conditions or expectations... Just genuine selfless consideration and caring...  The effects of inter relational activities may well ripple out and in turn begin promoting the healing... Healing that in the world around us... 

     In every aspect of our lives... Everyday we interact with the world around us and we do have an effect, some clearly more so than others, in any case, I would hope that each of us would prefer this "effect" be something that helps us sleep at night; Something that will keeps us smiling through out the day; Something that we can cherish.... I can not change the myopic views that tends to plague our society, but I can strive to affect a change... That change starts with me; with whom I can share love of the same... With whom I can promote healing... I say let the healing continue...

Life like sweet, sweet water...

     In my endeavor to carry on that feeling of nurturing brought upon me by that ever so generous muse ~ I created something unique this morning... I poured a glass of chilled water, that I balanced with a hint of pomegranate and some very fragrant rose water... You sip it slow; draw in the aroma as you do... You hold the small gulps in your mouth for a while and when you swallow it ~ you take your time... It all just taste so much better when you do this... Just like life...

Perhaps the purest form of stoicism?

An acquaintance of mine once said to me in a nervous tone, "I am hopeful all will be fine"... Hmmm...

Hope; defined as desire accompanied with expectation of obtaining what is desired or belief that it is obtainable, without necessarily having the tangible means with which to full fill said expectation ~ I mean really!

Hope is not a blind faith; Not some fixed belief; Not some unwavering perceived mantra!  No! 

Hope is quite simply ~ A quite unspoken easy understanding…

As such, it is then not hope that helps us rest easy ~ Effortlessly. 
Hope is not why we continue to survive or for that matter prevail.

Hope is only the fuel; the catalyst; The activating compound...

The heart felt truth ~ It is the profound world of homeostasis created in which we then exist.  The equipoise that makes our lives clear and lucid.  Yes!
It is the by product of our hope ~ Peace of mind…


Quote Patrick B Oviedo Jr.  Sunday September 16th 2012

When she says...

     Should you ever find yourself sitting next to a truly inspiring woman, and she turns to you and says, "write me a poem."  Well then, there is only one thing you can do ~ Comply!

 

Yes
Patrick B Oviedo Jr.
August 29th 2012

Curiosity Abounds

What remarkable aspirations storm behind that regal affectation?

Sitting there in her presence, learning of a natural lucidity...

What wondrous inspirations abide with innocent, coy tenor to belie the easy heart?

Casually she graced me with the intrigue of a guileful, slightly raised brow...

Can she see there lurking, my golem in the shadow of insecurities?

On occasion I bear witness to a beam of dawn from the corner of her mouth...

When she draws in the aura, do the newly warmed, elated molecules long to stay forever?

Graced with once, maybe twice, a soft chortle; a hint to the secret pathways to her heart...

When she bathes, do the legions of life giving droplets find themselves in reverence of her flawless pale skin?

I submit, to those queries there is only one possible, happy retort...

Yes, unequivocally, without doubt, for most certain, beyond all denial, absolutely...

Yes!