Monday, November 29, 2010

If I am dead- read this

First of all, don't freak out. You're talking to a dead person- just like you probably are whenever you pick up a book written before 1950. I'm one of them now- I'll never get to tell you what I think about what happens tomorrow.

I don't really mind. I am happy and while I would have enjoyed all of the tomorrows, I enjoyed today. I tried my hardest to live every single day in every single day, not in any tomorrows. So don't feel sorry.

I am sorry though. If I have one regret right now, it's that my passing makes you sad. (Unless you had a tomorrow thing that you needed me for. That wasn't very smart, and I hope you learned from that.) So somehow I died- that's like if we were walking together, like we do, and an old friend came up and slapped me. I know the man, I forgive him. Don't be vicariously angry, or touch your own cheek in pain.

I hope I don't die anytime soon, but as a precaution I thought you should hear. I was never much for social norms that weren't any good. I'm dead. Get over it. I love you. 

...yes, you.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

God's sonic imprint (She and J)

J and I laughed at an inside joke-
haha God is a baritone haha
She didn't get it; leaning
over I said
God's voice isn't a baritone voice
What is it She
asked.

Have you ever plucked a piano string
(She was musically illiterate- the sound wasn't there)
J knew only because I had explained this before to her
but every time it was new- that's how I knew it was true.
I couldn't explain it to without breathing harder

It takes a moment- just a moment- to hear the sound of a piano
you press as hard as you can and it still takes the same moment
unless you can't hear that, or know it so well from playing.

She smiled. God's voice was a piano- a words piano, what a poet I am
Do you undertand? I asked
She said yes and I knew no

When I talk to God, the sound comes immediately.
I know God and I have no clue- it feels good to hear the hammer strike before physics catches up
that's music, I know,
She doesn't. J can't, J tries.
J's God isn't a piano.

She looked at me still, and I play her song.