"It Is What It Is..."

I’ve always said the mark of a good poem is in the thoughts you have during and after its reading - not the distractions.

 

 “It Is What It Is... “

 

Thoughts are as we have them -

some moments all you can do is …listen,

listen to the sounds of e v e r y t h I n g

and without any pause at all

it’s your life that echoes behind your eyes.

 

…thoughts…

 

Every word you hear - touches

in some way - and then relates …in another way -

emotions surface and -

and you are left having to deal

…to deal with ”nows” once past

…”thens” that become todays

…”never wills” that well - never will all over again

…and again…

And you didn’t ask

for anything

of anyone - you just …listened

listened as you always do

as THEY spoke of their moments -

their world-rending and life-cracking “moments”

and you were there, right there

breathing and paused and full of “nows” again,

“nows” left behind or whens that it was you - left …alone,

behind - to stand and breathe and somehow find a way

to stand and breathe til you can walk - away …again.

 

And another day you’re right there again

And you comment -

How you walked away from this one for a few and came back.

And that it had me thinking on static moments of life caught in headlights ...as we sit waiting for the final "BANG" to sound or pass...

"Life's complicated, it doesn't fit under yes ...or no. Hell, even a maybe isn't big enough sometimes."  Hell of a path we share ain't it?

 

And another…

 

The ties that bind are everywhere,

and the fingertips lie every night.

The tear dampened pillow doesn't hug back

- I even miss sharing my nightmares...

 

And you do realize - It IS easy to say you understand -

and yet so hard to show it unless you do …understand.

And you DO understand

- all too well and you HAVE the words within

And they cascade out - little, nothing …words…

And If another person can touch …me,

what better way to say hello back than to reach toward them?

 

 

Was a time I used to prefer commercials to most of the shows - then the same peeps started making both… The midnight cig is beat by the 2 A.M. stare at the 3 A.M. nothing until the sunrise starts the cacophony all over yet again ...and again

A good apathy is a terrible - terrible - thing to waste. Normally takes years of observed abuse and decades of non-follow-through, but sometimes we do find the "bumps" along our way and the distraction of "caring" overwhelms even the change to Daylight Savings Time - and you HAVE to KNOW how much THAT bites! Right?

I've always hated Starbuck's coffee - but loved the people and the damnedest thing is few ever look at me askance nor ask why - they just nod as if to themselves and come back the next day.  Go figure…

You ever sit out on a fire-escape

as the day's heat radiates out into the fake city night…

arms wrapped round your knees - tight

and just be …nothing…

just captured and held by it all and

drifting where it takes you?

And it's never quite quiet…

you THINK it is but when you FINALLY experience

true …quiet… you realize everafter how alone you aren't

and yet ...are?

 

I have to remember how to breathe

too often - even in the sunshine …ya know?

but

…it is what it is…

 

Chris

 

 

 

Author's Note

feel free

Reviews

[Jennesis]

Breathing in and out, as I sit in this space of yours. Not even thinking about what to say with my words, as I wish holding space for you to just be can be communicated over the lines of cyberspace. I was struck by the truth in the lines, we are so caught up in our own rambling thoughts we forget to just listen, and be with another, 'be' with ourselves. we fling 'understanding' like hello's, but we really don't actually understand very often. We barely even let ourselves see another, but in the end, we are all just looking to be understood, even from within our own souls.....

[armin]

hmmm... you descript your poems like a story. But I am enjoying reading your stuffs .

You ever sit out on a fire-escape
as the day's heat radiates out into the fake city
night…
arms wrapped round your knees - tight
and just be …nothing…
just captured and held by it all and
drifting where it takes you?

I loved that stanza. Well done.

armin. ..

[closed]

very compelling. one of those rare writes. I'll keep you in my literary radar



-Dream

[Ana B.]

this is a very powerful write. I felt the impact in the philosophical sense......how one aknowledges his reality and, after a lifetime of inner battles, nothing is more solid than the words: ''it is what it is''.....

[WhiteWillow]

After reading this, a thought popped into my head: the acceptance of being. As you point out, its not an easy thing to do. To live. There's so much noise in the world, and it makes just "being" a difficult task. Makes me want to clean out the unnecessary cobwebs in my brain, and meditate (something I've never been very good at). I really enjoyed reading this...I think it will set the tone for the rest of my day. Thanks Chris

[Ruth]

Somewhere in the silence, the echoes of life scream
awareness as they bring acceptance vivid and coiled
around cold daydreams and misted view of perception

So out of grasp is rationale at times in darkness
even within light, emotions pale in comparison
to the haunted perspective, unique to the self

So many search for an offered heart and hand
that will lead them to a sanctuary of peaceful times
and pleasant dreams where only calm dares speak

Not that way though, is it?
No, not that way and suffering is held tightly, deep inside
by the billions who yearn to be heard (now and after)

I listen, absorb with eternal empathy, unconditional
in my approach to just being there or wherever needed
how can you save others, if you can't face yourself (silly flower)

Whirlpools, mirrors, fog on dew dropped grass blades
nocturnal ghosts that distort sleep and fracture the day ahead
trembling hands that hold tepid mug of tea, too hard

It all leads to somewhere, I suppose
just where does it spiral to? Nowhere with sunshine
that is a distorted view, spoken by a suffocated, muddy mind

Now and afters echo constantly in Decemberland
even when you realise your connection to all and THE all
echo they still do, loudly and frightening in many ways

How many times have I understood and walked away
when answers are on the tip of my dehydrated tongue
cold takes a toll in this frozen time, tears quickly turn to ice

Whirlpools of fog veiled memories and the now, would that I could
raise the head to see the warmth of my heartfelt spirit prints
but the silence still echoes and my tea is now officially cold

♥

[Chris]

THAT was spectacular... left me breathless.

[Cholontic]

It took me twice of reading it before I could bring myself to say anything. I found the rhythm of this piece and finally understand what you're saying... Life just is. You have experiences and reactions to it, but it will continue with or without you being frazzled by the every day of things. There are those that barely notice others and still go through life, somehow...

I enjoyed this piece very much. I can't wait to read more of your work. Thank you for sharing. Oh, I should tell you that poetry is the hardest kind of writing for me to understand. So, take my review with that in mind...

[Confuser]

I had to come back. And I believe I will again. I am seeking truth and see so much here. It is quite thought provoking and I loved the flow - the straight forward thoughts, and the feeling as if it could be anyone or everyone and we at least me can relate to so many things written here. I am also learning writing poetry isn't something that has a specific "meter" or let me get the verbiage correct; is this prose? Suppose being new, my insecurities overwhelm, because I feel, someone may think, she should at least look it up. I see a review below, not all, but you purged your thoughts so wonderfully, after a suicide; I'm like the word purge right now; it's like you once said to me, poof, the words go away, I'm reminding myself. I so enjoyed the honesty, learning a little about you. I know, you are in there. It is What It is, I can go on, but I wish to thank you for expressing so many things; gave so much to ponder.

[Chris]

THAT is exactly what we do Dale...express our selves...

[Confuser]

You made me laugh. Thank you.

[Chris]

welcome...its Monday morning and we all need a smile.

[Confuser]

Just wrote something, 'cause my back hurts; mad at the pain. And I'm smiling right now! For the first time. Thanks.

[Chris]

Come by more often... saves on the tylenol...

[Confuser]

nice, but going to move around some; got to clean! Tks though.

[Kahtia Howard]

This is the poem you had posted pieces of under mine. I'm really glad that I read the missing pieces. This poem seems as chaotic and raw as my mind. It seems a bit existential which is my language! Beautiful poem.

[Chris]

Parts of some pieces come as they are inspired... the writing is freefall and as felt.

[Kahtia Howard]

was this written afterwards?

[Chris]

The key to its coalescing was when a friend announced the suicide of her daughter and my mind went to where thoughts go and tied streams and added others in a 15 - 20 min span of time... I was THERE but my thoughts - well, they found a path all their own to walk.

[Kahtia Howard]

My condolences to your friend, you, and her family. I feel honored that those thoughts found their way to my page and that I was able to find them strung together here

[sharonlee]

This moves me... and left me thought-full.