Some kind of Beautiful

I don’t understand futurists. The future is merely a function of the past.

– Marc Mitchell –

I

Everything’s annihilated.

That’s the red zone.

There’s no life under there.

That’s a dead zone.

Slow down.

That’s a no-passing zone.

Run faster and eat healthier.

Avoid the grey zone.

Keep going.

You’re in the zone.

II

Remember what’s been lost and how we got here.

Words extend our existence.

Acknowledge, define and fix the problems we create.

Change is an opportunity.

Don’t rush what will eventually happen.

Take life 10 seconds at a time.

Growing old is inevitable, so learn to do it dexterity.

Maturity is something beautiful.

Live with compassion and be inspired.

And win at the game of zones.

Food bloggers

Eleven dollar juices

Expensive joggers

Dark rooms with bikes

Hot rooms with mats

Women who lookalike

To dine as members

At the vegan cafe

And a photo to remember

Peel away

Gently

With purpose

Slowly

Keep peeling

You’ll eventually

Find the fruit

My dad said no

My mum said be careful

My sister said wait

I did it anyway

With your convents of gold

And your kingdoms of tales

Swift trams of yellow

And broken tiles of blue

Strong waves of fury

And forests of jewels

Wines of sweet residue

And striped houses by the beach

Monasteries left unfinished

And castle walls and aqueducts

Resilient church libraries

And freshly baked obidos bread

Modern art along Lisbon walls

And palaces of pastel colors

A familiar red suspension bridge

And savory Natas of Belem

Remarkable mouths of hell

And steep streets up Alfama

Seafood that transforms taste

And culture that touches lives

Portugál,

You took my breath away.

Pillars of rusty marble

Windows with cracked wooden frames

A staircase that’s been walked on for a hundred years

A statue embodying our golden history

A wall whispering the words of our silent past

And a garden like that of the King’s castle.

In the midst of it all a beautiful lady,

Young, heavenly and eccentric

Every smile kindling a scintillation of her surroundings

Every soft step resuscitating the forgotten

Every breath giving meaning to what’s been lost

In a transcending world we live in today

Try not to oversee the stories in our antiquities

Because sometimes the deepest secrets

Are found by looking beyond the exterior

Steps softly trodden

Around the oak’s hidden cast

Till its hands met mine

Been here.

A decade or two,

On a mild path.

Hands free.

Heart strong,

Head weak.

But I can change.

If  I must,

I guess.

That heaviest rock at the bottom of the ocean.

Refuses to budge, or feel.

The number at the end of the math equation.

Stuck on the axis, nowhere to go.

Wrongful laws that govern our society.

Subject to rigidity, tough to bend.

Favorite people, activities and interests.

Keep me going, moving forward.

Those that don’t move but move you forward are

Constants in life.