Wednesday, February 12, 2003

On Love
a poetic conversation by Myrna and Michael

Myrna Perez-

When I was young
Love was a conversation heart
Sweet and pink
It spoke to me
And dissolved upon my tongue
Rendered my happiness for a moment

When I was not so young
Love was family
Enveloping, unconditional
A binding strength
That enveloped me
And gave me confidence to
Lift my face into the wind

And when I was old enough
I was told that love is
Passion, burning and consuming
A crazy elixar of madness
That transports the mundane
Into a hot sea of lust

Now I know
Love is filth, it is muck
A wallowing of ugliness
And suffering
Exposure of the twisted perversion
Of my mind
What is true, what is good
In this hollow shell

For there in lies its
Beauty and wonder
When He sees me truly
No pretense, no intricate facade
Nothing to give
Nothing to offer
And yet He takes my all

Michael Sherrillo-

Love is not about the beautiful,
love is beauty.
Love takes the ugly,
embraces the hideous,
and clings to the uncomely.

Through the eyes of love,
only true beauty is seen,
and we are loved not because of,
but in spite of.

Though our faults are many,
they are not hidden
but seen, shared,
and embraced
as part of that
which makes us whole
and human.
That is to love.

A Poetic Conversation on Being Alone
by Myrna Perez and Michael Sherrillo

by Myrna Perez

I am alone in my thoughts today
The shore is my companion
Birds my confidants
I seek this solitude
These incandescent moments of completion
That cannot be found amidst
Even the most joyous of

I glory in my solitude
In the complexities of my breath
The subtle inner workings of my brain
Rise and fall
Thus does my heart amidst the breeze
I have no greater desire than this
For the lover of my soul
Is the one who pushes the wind past
My upturned face

by Michael Sherrillo

I am incomplete.
I wander this world alone.
I speak of beauty,
but my words hollowly reflect off empty walls,
or echo in dark caves.
I hold hands with the wind,
nature is my companion,
life my only friend.

But in my passing the wind moves on.
Nature's seasons and cycles are unchanged,
and the life I had and held
will leave me with my last breath.
I will have been no closer,
and my days no happier,
for in death I will be just as alone,
as I was in life.

Life cannot be held.
Joy cannot be possessed.
Beauty cannot be kept.
But all things can be shared.
In sharing, we find the spark
igniting the flames of our heart and soul,
no longer still but with passion pounds,
because we know we are not alone.

Myrna Perez-

What is this dark void
An empty bleakness
It swirls through the
Channels of my mind
Pulling my thoughts inward
Until all is sameness:
The gray mutes my voice

If only the blackness would enclose me
The edge of night cutting my heart
Then I would feel alive
Instead of this nothing
This torture for my intellect

And then a glimpse
A ring of pure
And endless light
Cold and pure
Warm and merciful
I cannot breath, nor can
Any part of me respond
But my essence

Catching a hold
It dances with me
Beyond this loneliness
Into a oneness that is
Neither solitude nor
Togetherness, but just is;
And I am content

Michael Sherrillo-

I stumble,
no hand is there to catch me.
If I fall,
I must dust myself off
and move on.
I feel content with myself,
comfortable in my silent partnership.

But I cannot hold my hand.
I have no tenderness
for my shadow.
And on those cold nights,
Watching the stars laugh,
The only warmth I know,
Is the fire beside
and the blanket above.

How I long to stand,
on the precipice of life,
arms raised
the wind at my face
hearing the songs time
float on the breeze's backs
through the high valleys and passes.

I long to yell out at the world from it's top,
but all I will hear is my own voice bouncing back.
While I may have found peace with myself,
learned to find joy in solitude.
And ease in my silence.
While I may have gained the world itself,
what empty value will it possess,
If I have not love.

While the worlds may come and go,
the torch of passion and the flame of love,
shall never be quenched from the hearts of man.

Saturday, February 08, 2003

a lament by Myrna Perez

It is a flame, a torch
I hold
Out to the gale:
The blackness whirls
In a maddening dance.
Extinguishment its only desire
Longing to consume,

My fire, my light
It is my belief
My character, all that is me.
I cannot hold it close
Secure, beyond the touch
Of wind and hate.
For then I burn,
Light fades
and ember scars
My skin.

The world blazes
I release the torch
upon it, its filth
Ignited: as teeth into
Moldering flesh
And all is torn clean.
It is not enough
Layers build, resists:
All of me is nothing.
a mild rant by Myrna Perez

I do not know if middle-management is the way I want to go with my life...anyways, this first poem is actually not typical of what I will be contributing here, but it is what is on my mind at the moment. It is my attempt to express and/or define my patriotism for my country, especially in response to some discussions I have had with members of a certain political party on this campus of mine.

Sweet ideals of youth
Are tarnished in
War and hypocrisy
Pain indents your once
smooth brow, tears blind site,
And a nation weeps for a forgotten dream.

Pride crippled by cynicism,
Humanity conquered by shame,
The spoils of your modern era.
Are you still there?
Will you survive for my future,
And my great-grandchildren's?
Was the image ever real, or
A trick played to fool a generation?

I don't see you in the flag,
or in my president's faces.
The anthem is sung to
Weary ears, as fase sentiment
And patriotism parade in place
Of true honor.

Yet you remain,
Despite the horror;
In my freedom to pray,
To learn, to read, to be.
Perhaps the suffering has made you
More than in your infancy.
A greater country than
The founders could forsee,

"Welcome, Comrad."
an informative post by Vance Tran

I'd like to welcome a new member, Myrna, to our United Elbows of Fury family. She's has know-how, stick-to-it-tiveness, is a go-getter, and an array of other made-up middle-management words, fraught with hyphens. Here's to more thought-provoking, sincere, and often humorous posts that we've come to expect from the "Elbows."

Go forth and post.
Just trying this out...forgive the newbee

Thursday, February 06, 2003

"Don't Hold Back On Me"
by Michael Sherrillo

Love is like a high stakes game of no limit Texas Hold'em poker. You play, you risk losing everything, but you have everything to gain if you win. Many people choose not to play because they can't handle the pressure. The losses seem to great and the odds to high to conquer. They get scared and try to protect themselvesand in so doing, lose. The only way to win is to find a partner who is willing to risk everything on you. If neither holds back, both give completely, then the game of a lifetime is played. That is the only way to win in love. If you don't risk your time, your life, your heart... then you will have lost nothing, but without love, you have nothing anyway.
I want to win.

The only thing in life that is certain is nothing ever will be until you try.

Wednesday, February 05, 2003

" =) "
a Haiku, by Michael Sherrillo

Unable to move,
Happiness overwhelming;
So full my heart sings.
by Michael Sherrillo

Life is like a bed of flowers...
On some days, you’re a rose.
On others, your the fertilizer.

Today I was a rose.
Today I thought that if I could be any happier, wings would burst from my shoulder blades and I would fly.
Today the world exploded into Dolby Digital 5.1 fully orchestrated stereo surround sound.
Today, had one more drop of joy leaked out, everyone around me would have joined hands and bust into professionally choreographed song and dance.
Today I skipped, I whistled... I danced down steps and ran up stairs 2 at a time!
Today "YiPEEE!" was on every breath, "Weee!" in every though, and a roaring "Ya-HOOOOO!" crouched on my tongue waiting to pounce on the world.
Today I wanted to declare from the mountains, yell from the rooftops, and proclaim from the bell towers.
Today water tasted like wine, the air was like Champaign, and the sun was like Brandy.
Today was absolutely spectacularly wonderfully no different from any other.
But last night...

Tuesday, February 04, 2003

"On Existence"
an observation, by Michael Sherrillo

A fine line exists between happiness and sadness, joy and sorrow. We tend to place one in high regard while looking down upon the other, instead of being able to step back and appreciate the act of emoting, the purity of feeling and expression of which these are just two extremes, one no better than the other. Their differences are profound, while in merriment; we fly in a hundred meter dash with more laughter and smiles than a bottle of cheap champagne on New Years Eve. In depression, times moves like a river of molasses, slow and strong, we feel ourselves moving as if compelled, every motion and emotion having all the rapidity of deep-sea diver or an astronaut on a space walk. We weight a thousand pounds and our every effort is accomplished by sheer inertia alone. The world takes on a clarity very different from the almost to sharp brilliance of happiness. Life becomes fluid; you see the patterns in the faces, the lives and the people you pass. You feel pulled out of life, and instead stand by it watching as a child stands by a river and observes with detached fascination the mundane actions of every fish that swims by. In that you see a beauty that breaks your heart. You see the preciousness of every fleeting moment and you begin to understand life's fragility and ephemerality. The faces you see are like actors, hiding themselves from the bigger world and reality you find yourself in, hoping like children that if they cover their eyes, if they don't see the inevitability of fate, if they ignore the pull of time and the grind of theirs bodies gears wearing, then the true nature of existence, the meaningless of all they do and all they are will not exist. The only thing I ever question is, though they may be truly like children, either ignorant or afraid of the truth, are they any less happy for it? And am I any happier for knowing otherwise? Maybe ignorance truly is bliss, and if the time we have is actually that fleeting, I would trade them all the truth in the world for it.

Sunday, February 02, 2003

A poem by Michael Sherrillo

I lay at night, unable to sleep,
I her you softly breathing beside.
I can feel your body’s warmth
through the sheets.
And in this moment I know joy.

I turn, quiet as can be,
to see you there
in the soft pink of night.
I smile because you’re next to me,
and for the wonder I feel
now with you in my life.

I watch your body rise and fall
as I gently brush your dark hair aside.
Ever so deftly I lean close to you
and whisper the words I otherwise hide.
Then pausing a moment to gaze at your face,
without rousing, I tenderly kiss you goodnight.
"My Life"
My heart laid bare,
to all who will never see,
who will never read,
and who will never care.
-Michael Sherrillo

I've reflected heavily upon what realizations occurred to me yesterday, a line of thought along whose slow gentle curve I followed, sliding faster and faster in a downward spiral leading into a dark depression. It's a beautiful day outside, the sun is bright, there is a soft breeze rustling through the foliage, a few big puffy white clouds dot the sky like fluffy sheep grazing on an abundance of sunlight. I hate it when the weather doesn't match my mood, makes everything seem that much more contrasted. The day to bright, and my heart to bleak. My feelings make it impossible to have fun while the day makes it equally difficult to wallow in self-pity for a little while. Damn mother nature. I realize that I am a creature of contrast. I defeat myself in all I do and all that I am before I have even begun. I am the hopeless romantic, single, without love. I derive my greatest joys from being with people, and yet I am alone, and with no true friends. The words that came the night before echo through my mind, sometimes with pity, sometimes with anger, mocking, sympathetic, stating, singing... "The only consistent feature in all of my dissatisfying relationships is me." It's not that I don't have a girlfriend, it's that I have no one. That I feel utterly and totally alone. I have no friend to go to the beach with, no buddy to spend the day surfing and gawking at girl with. No partner to sit at night in each other’s room and talk or watch movies till the wee hours in the morning. How many times have I gone to the cafeteria alone, sitting by myself as the world of people, of laughter, of joy, of merriment, of friendship and fraternity passes by. Why no matter how many times I jump do I seem to consistently miss the parade of life that I see before me? I feel like I'm trapped in a twilight zone, stuck between the world of the dead and the world of the living, without the peace of one and the life of the other, invisible to both. Where are the people who care? How many weekends must I spend hours on the phone calling person after person to find something to do, somewhere to go? Why am I the one who always has to call everyone I know to be invited, why out of my dozens of acquaintances do they never call me? Because I am invisible. Because they don't care. I stood on the bridge and looked down and wondered, if I disappear, who would notice... and who would care? Whose life would be changed or lessened by my loss? My handful of family, of course... but the friends who never call, the acquaintances I never see, the people who are only their when they need me... in a campus of thousands, I can't think of a single person who would care... their lives would go on unchanged. This weekend I've tried to make many plans, I've left many messages... and this weekend, the only people who have called are my mom and my boss. I've just finished 8 shots of espresso in 10 minuets, maybe it's a caffeine addiction (my monkey's name is Starbucks), or maybe it's just plain ol' self-destructive behavior, a classic sign of depression (guess that Psych major is starting to pay off). Either way, I know that I am going to close the blinds, and spend the rest of my day wishing someone would call, someone would care, someone would want me and my company a fraction as much as I want theirs. All the time knowing it won't happen, and I'll fall asleep in my room, watching movies, alone. "The only consistent feature in all of my dysfunctional relationships is me." "I am the lover unloved, and I am alone."
"My Epiphany"
A sobering thought, by Michael Sherrillo

I was sitting home... on a Saturday night... alone... eating Ben and Jerry's ice cream... brooding over my consistent lack of female companionship when I had an epiphany, the only consistent feature in all my dissatisfying relationships is me. How many times had I used the line, "It's not you, It's me...", but I never thought it could be true... I guess I just don't understand what it is about me. The only piece of advice I ever hear from anyone is "you won't find someone until you stop looking". ...Riiiiiiight... If I can't find my keys when I'm looking for them, I somehow doubt that they will just "pop up" if I go watch TV instead. Seems logical to me that you can't find what you’re not looking for in the first place. Well, needless to say, I was depressed. Ok, it's me, I could accept that, but exactly what about me is it? I seem to have no problem getting girls numbers, and they generally seem attracted to me and interested in getting together, so where do I go wrong? I know I'm not repulsive (though, halfway through that carton of Karmal Sutra, I was starting to feel like it) but then again, anyone can look cute and be witty for the 30 seconds worth of conversation the number acquiring process takes. I seem to run into my first block when I try to make my transition from "Nice guy she talked to on phone" to "Guy who wants to go on a date" or even "Guy who she calls back". For some reason, I have difficulty getting that first date going. Statically, out of the numbers I've gotten in the past 6 months (approximately 50) I've managed to get 10 first dates. That means I have about a 20% success rating right now. Out of those, I've gotten second dates with 3 or 4. Which bring my odds of seeing a person more than once to about 4%. Since I'm still very single, and very much not seeing anyone, I'm currently working with a 100% failure rating. The only situation of note involves someone who I care very deeply for and who decided we can never be together. If you read my previous poem, you can tell I'm not dealing with the heartbreak well. The ironic twist, like a fork in my stomach, is that I am a hopeless romantic. In so being, I happen to believe that there is someone out there for everyone, and so I am unable to accept the obvious fact that I am destined to be alone. Instead, I continue to search for that which was never there, with the purpose and futility of a bird who constantly crashes into the glass window it never sees. " I am the lover unloved, and I am alone."