Daily Keemo. 11.15.11. Beauty Is Always Found In The Stillness

Beauty Is Always Found In The Stillness

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The Story
Tchaikovsky.
Is in the room with me.
Tonight.
His notes are words in a conversation that I having with myself, alone. 
With Tchaikovsky.
Across the room I raise my glass to him. He says, it is all found in the number 20 in C sharp minor. I disagree and mention that all truths and self discovery are found in Sonata 14 in C sharp minor (Beethoven). It is the gentle notes and spaces where your reflection is the clearest. It is the spaces between the notes where the haunting takes place. it is the notes that bring you back to this world.
Tchaikovsky is in the room with me tonight and he motions to the black keys and then to the white ones and points out how they make no noise on their own but beauty is always found in the stillness and that there is always music with or without the keys. ...Enjoy!

Daily Keemo. 3.22 I Don't Mean The Flowery, Head-In-The Clouds Kind Of Dreamer

I Don't Mean The Flowery, Head-In-The Clouds Kind Of Dreamer
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The Story

My entire life I have been an insane dreamer. I don't mean like a flowery, head in the clouds kind of dreamer but I mean real sleeping dreams. The kind you have when you have a fever but I have them all of the time. They rarely make sense and often I am aware that I am dreaming or everything is so real in my dream I think I am awake. I won't bore you with the details of last night's dream because frankly if I tried to write about it, it wouldn't make a bit of sense to anyone. There was one thing or person however that stuck with me long after I awoke and that was the man who was really a reptile but was really a man and at different times he would become more of one or the other and we would have conversations and in the dream I did not think it was odd that he was like this, it was normal and our conversations where normal and I learned things from. I am going to stop there because if I go on it will make less and less sense and really the important part as far as this portrait is concerned is that it is him or it or the words we shared that is this portrait and everything else will fall into the void of nowhere only to resurrect itself on some other evening while the rest of the world is asleep...Enjoy!

Daily Keemo. 4.13.11. The Is A Heart Where The Hole Used To Be

The Is A Heart Where The Hole Used To Be

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The Story:

Simply, just as the title suggests. 

Enjoy!

 

Daily Keemo. 4.5.11. There Are Words And These Are Not His

There Are Words And These Are Not His

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There is a man and
this is his portrait and
there are words and
these are
not his.

It is late and
in daydream
I see his face and
wonder where
he went and
what world he travels in and
I bet the hole in his
heart is much bigger than it is in mine and
this is his portrait and
these words are
not his.

Enjoy!

Daily Keemo. 3.30.11. Facing Morning I Find Nothing

Facing Morning I Find Nothing

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There are late nights
when I find myself
walking the sidewalks and
there is no poem or paint to
be found there
but
only the visible exhale of
a person momentarily lost
in it all.

Enjoy!

Daily Keemo. 3.15 In His Eyes And He Talked

In His Eyes And He Talked
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The Story

There words are nothing more than just that. Words. There is no music in the air tonight. Only the sound of these keystrokes on this paper and the dog scratching on the floor by my feet and papers rustling as she goes through a drawer looking for something. I am looking for something but it is not found in the drawer. I know because I have already looked in there.

There is still only the sound of these keys and nothing more.

I think of the man in the wheelchair who asked us to get the cup out of his wheel and he had to be cold going around the city in just a t-shirt. You could see the drink in his eyes as he talked to us. As I think of him I am certain that he has forgotten about me and the cup and the cold and the talk and it all.

...Enjoy!

Daily Keemo. 3.6 There Are Days

There Are Days
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The Story

There are days
that I want to be more than
I am
and
at the end
of those days
I never feel good
about
wanting such things.

There are days
that I want to open up
the top of my head
and peer down in there
and see if
there are answers
to my questions.

There are days
that I simply
am
and everything is in
balance and it
is these days that
make the others
days
just memories.

Enjoy!

Daily Keemo. 2.25 And Then There Is Us

And Then There Is Us
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The Story

There is one and
there is one and
there is two and
there is us and
then there is one and

we cast a shadow on where
we have been and

then there is
us.

Enjoy!    

Daily Keemo. 2.18.11 All Your Steps Become

All Your Steps Become

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There are moments when time bends towards you and all your steps become effortless.

... Enjoy!

Daily Keemo. 2.7.11 My Place Here

My Place Here

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These words write themselves and
the music is empty
while I float
above all
of
this.

Everyone seems to have their
reasons for doing things that
I can never
fathom
spending
the sweat.

My place here is in between
the letters and
my place here is outside of
the margin and
my place here is
floating above
all of

this.

Daily Keemo. 1.28.11 Wrapped His Neck Like A hug

Wrapped His Neck Like A Hug

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I ran into him out front of the store and
we talked out on the sidewalk and
it was cold because it is
always cold here at this time
of the year.

We made small talk like
people do when they don't see each other
very often anymore and
we were both agreeable and
smiled a lot more than usual.

He asked how my father was and
I realized it really had been a long time since we
caught up like this.

"I haven't seen him in 8 years and
it is best that way," I replied.
There was an awkward silence
he too realized it had been a really long
time and
we went on for only a minute longer and
he reached his hand out and I shook it and
as we walked away with our back to each other
I couldn't help but think that
his scarf wrapped his neck
like a hug.

... Enjoy!

Daily Keemo. 1.10.11 The Details Are Not Important

The Details Are Not Important

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Inside there are
things that the
outside
is better off not
knowing about.

the details are
not important.

... Enjoy!    
    

Daily Keemo. 1.7.11 Most Of The Time

Most Of The Time

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Most of the time our
words come from
up here

when they should
come from
down here.

... Enjoy!

Daily Keemo. 3.16. There Is Lipstick and The Love Poem Is Not Dead Quite Yet

There Is Lipstick and The Love Poem Is Not Dead Quite Yet
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There is lipstick on the coffee mug that sits next to sink and
I know that she has been there.

There are earrings on the dresser and
I know that she has been there.

There is the sweet smell of her perfume in the air and
I know that she has been there.

There is no more emptiness inside and
I know that she has been there.

...Enjoy!

Daily Keemo. 02.15. In The Slow Movements In The Hands Of A Clock

In The Slow Movements In The Hands Of A Clock
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There was a line in a poem that
I read this afternoon that I cannot 
remember now and I am too lazy to
hunt it down for you and
I think the dead writer
deserves better than what
I have to offer 
him now.

Which is not much.

There was a line in a poem that
I read this afternoon that I knew
that I would forget as soon as 
I turned the page
like I always do but
who reads poetry anyway and
I feel real sorry for those that
write it because in the end
the words are only that and
it doesn't matter how many times you hit the enter key
as it is only another poem on another day and
another try at getting it right but
I think the dead writer
deserves better than what
I have to offer 
him now.

Which is not much.

 

 

Daily Keemo. 11.3. My Words Are Not Like Poems.

My Words Are Not Like Poems
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I suppose the painting says it all. My words are not like poems and this daydream about means so much more...Enjoy!

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