Maybe it’s meant to be like one of those

Who dream and sleep at waking times

Of sorrows past

Of broken hearts

Of dreams and love unrequited

Of the many ways once proposed

Maybe it’s meant to be like one of those

Whose love dies unresolved.

– A. Gar

Stream of consciousness…

This one is whatever regurgitated out of me, just expressing thoughts and feelings, not polished or tinkered with, just as it is…

I remember walking down the street and thinking I had it made. Hot shit, back straight as a steel beam, forehead pointed ahead because I didn't give a fuck. Life has a mischievous way of reminding you, that if your feet are not planted flat on the ground, the finality, and consequence of death will slap you in the face with a cold rod. A misplaced brick, centuries old, dislodged from a wall and falls straight on your head and there you go. infinite darkness. How can I possibly be more clear than that? and yet you doubt what i tell you, show you. If I was ever so frightened with possibility, it had to be in another time, another place far away, so distant the sun’s warmth would collapse before it arrived. and yet you go with so much weight on your shoulders, a trip to the moon could do you a favor, and me I guess. It would be nice, to release and let go, take a small leap and have something carry you away. Its the trip up that would worry me, too much speed, fire and possible death for me. I can just imagine the explosion, something so loud bright and hot it would melt my molecules away. not even dust.

And really, who cares, every single one of us will be forgotten in a few generations, so many great people completely forgotten, their love, their pain and anguish, the ever present smiles and frowns. People who cared so much it hurt their soul and they caved in. So you let go and chase whatever is haunting you and realize it haunts no more because it never was. So I love you, what can I say, it just happened.

– A. Garcia

Moon

What do you think of when you look up at the sky, when in the early morning light the moon still shines bright?

Or when up above and all around is dark, blackness interrupted by specks set ablaze, stars so bright their energy flows after their demise. Does your mind go blank in wonder, astonishment gripping your heart, or clenching in fear for a moment lost? Do your thoughts drift to someone you long for, the hug that never materialized, to those eyes that never lingered on yours?

When your soul clenches with the heart’s deepest desires, your thoughts take you where you need to go.

So, what do you think of when we know we are standing under the same moon?

Pride

Why is it so hard? To bury pride, settle down and apologize.

To let it flow like the moon with the tides.

An egotistical wall blocked the view.

Never meant to leave you high and dry.

Time goes by, steady as the thoughts that run through our mind.

As you look at the stars, remember we are all under the same infinite sky. Don’t let it pass by until you hit that wall again; it comes for us all, the moment to die.

– A. Garcia

Humans, the only animal with an awareness of death and its horrible absoluteness; you would assume this awareness, this gift of consciousness would make us think many times over as to why we end life, especially the lives of the young and innocent, with such callousness and disregard for whats precious.

Humanity parades around death like chimps around a banana tree, invoking noble reasons for mayhem and destruction. Rationalizing that which has no rationale, attaching statistics and numbers to broken souls and abandoned hope.

That tree the chimps parade around gives them life; the tree of death that we hurriedly climb on, leaves only broken limbs, souls and hearts, crushed by the weight of our insufferable consciousness.

Haze

We look around every day, pondering the present, comparing it to the past, and we wonder how much things have changed. Yet, in the dormant entrails of our souls, all is the same. Our hearts and minds remain unchanged. The essence of humans remains unfazed; what that tells you of the human condition? It’s up to you to remove the shackles of culture and wave away the haze.

– A. Garcia

Moments

The sweetest moment, it comes and it goes

The pulsating heartbreak, it comes and it goes

The mind relives the gentlest of starlit nights, the fury of a winter’s storm

It all just comes and goes

Like liquid gold held in hands full of holes.

– A. Garcia

Inside

Knock, knock, tapping gently on the dome, what could it be, is it really just meat and bone?

Is a hand stuck inside conjuring up a storm? Tearing down walls and leaving nothing but stones.

Even I has barely had a glimpse, I wonder what’s hidden in those depths.

Light spills from the cracks, circling around like rays behind a solar eclipse

One day she came, she saw, gasped out loud and said, “All I see is red!”

What could it be if it’s all red?

Is it the dead?

What?

What’s inside my head?

– A. Garcia

Be

I’ve been overcomplicating life; now I try, when the first light sneaks through my curtains and hits my eyes, even in the most turbulent of times, to ask myself, “who do you want to be in life?”, and as my feet set on the cold floor to start the day’s journey, I whisper a reply, “go be that person.”

- A. Garcia

Erratic Dream State

It’s so peaceful now, so mellow, tranquil and zen. How things can go when you are not waiting for life to go out with a bang. There was a dream, I ran behind you, your stubborn head boarded the tram, my mind swirled , back and forth, back and forth, like a deranged boomerang.

I still write your name until the ink runs dry in my pen, coloring your hair with pixels on my screen. Life never felt quite as zen, to this very day I swear, it must've been a dream.

There goes the dream again, thought I turned the page, running behind your stubborn head boarding the tram, the one that comes by at ten, the one that is forest green, "do or die" mocking on its side, red letters hinting of rage.

My legs were cast iron, every step slowed me down, every step sunk into the cement, candle sticks stuck in a cake, the cracks split forward, opening the earth like a icy fissure spreading across a lake.

Your mischievous smile, dared me to move faster; eyes blank though, because love was dead, run over by the ugly tram, the one with letters on its side painted red.

Blood spilling all over the street, onto the sidewalk, where a passerby dared to ask, 'how dare you disturb my zen'.

Government officials contained the mess and no-one was wiser to what passed through that head, and just like that, the ink ran dry in my pen.

– A. Garcia

Haunted

Sometimes a thought gets stuck in my head, buzzing around like an angry swarm of bees that just lost their queen.

When the horde finally resides, the dust settles on the brain matter, the motes covering up every speck of space that looks free.

Same as that haunted house in my old neighborhood, the one everyone walked by and gave a frightened stare. The same one, with friends mocking, that I never step foot in, I would not dare.

– A. Garcia

Patience

Patience, the subconscious whispers in my ear, the break of dawn barreling through every crack in the blinds; wide awake for another rise of the sun, wondering when my time will come.

Patience, the tide is wide and far, yet all tides return. ‘What ifs’ tangled in your mind, held hostage over cliffs.

The whisper is incessant; you want to grasp the stars in all their glory, and you can barely grasp your heart.

– A. Garcia

Better

How can I? How can I love you better?

All of it, it's all so magnificent, so earthly, so all around and encapsulating. So hard to understand.

I want to wrap my arms around your soul, even just a gentle grasp, a garden-gnome sized squeeze, to figure out your smile & the elixir-like wave of your coal-black hair.

Why can't I figure it out? How hard can it be? To woo you and have your eyes bless mine with a glance I cannot pantomime; but that shine no longer warms this way, they don’t warm the cold with heavenly grace.

And I know, it ain’t that hard to understand. You’re somewhere else, beyond that place where dreams meet. You might as well never have been born, just another fantasy, another character, in another of countless stories that have  passed me by.

Another wayward stray. So I let you fly, out of my sight, over the horizon straight into space, far beyond range, until your light fades away.

– A. Garcia

Lovers

How many times do I have to try?

The heart, it can’t tell time

How many dreams have to die?

The soul, wretched from the slime

How many times do I have to cry?

That’s all I can sing

It’s another wicked song

Coming from somewhere up above

All out on the open

So, what do you say?

Take my hand

Lets do it as it’s meant to be

Like lovers do

Eternal like space.

– A. Garcia