Our last day is tomorrow
Our last day is tomorrow
how does one express deep sadness
darkness, emptiness, the two inches of tingle
that surround my neck and my fingers and hips
anticipation that all I can cling to
are visions of your face and smile
visions that are unclear, afraid to lose even that.
Not a photo, not an inch of cloth, not a strand of hair
Nothing to hold on to, nothing clear.
I’m afraid my memory will fail me
of how it feels to grasp your hand
embrace you with every inch of my skin
remembering each contour and movement
our dance that day, and the spot kissed by your mother
no one else will find or I hope someone does.
You are not mine and I can not have you
and even my memories of you are not only for me
if only I can have one more hour,
one more hour and the next thousand years.
Here’s the wrap-up:
- This was my fourth Ironman. Finished. I was surprised at the end, because it felt easy and I crossed the finish line feeling unsatisfied. Scary…
- I finished in 14:39. IMAZ was my practice race for Ironman Canada 25th Anniversary so took it easy but there was a lot of things that went wrong.
- Some of those things include forgetting my wetsuit, bad nutrition (consumed like 800+ calories on the bike in the first hour and a half I only consume 200 calories an hour). I almost threw up.
- The wind was 30mph so 56 miles of 30mph winds was not fun.
- I would not do Ironman Arizona again. The 3 loops on the bike course was boring and depressing. Plus it was like doing a 7 hour spin class the course was way too flat. Suffice to say, my balls hurt. Also, the water was dirty but the run was nice and the volunteers were great.
- Staying at my friend’s place in Scottsdale was great. High speed wireless and all.
That’s about it. I was 1432 place. I was like 1755 on the swim and passed like 300 people on the bike and got passed by only 10 people on the run. That was kinda cool.
Stay for Every Step
I trace the lines of your smile
from too few memories
I wish I had more to give.
And each hill I climb I pass
wildflowers of violet, gold, and ruby
maddeningly picking each flower
and saving every petal
There are no more flowers
none feel like you.
Those times I’m surrounded by water
hearing only my heart beat
I may also hear your voice
drowning in the brown pools of your eyes
there’s no more time left.
At the top of the largest ferris wheel
overlooking the world
I call your name and you can not hear me
I can not find you anywhere.
Were you ever with me or did I dream
Stay for every breath until my last
Stay for every step and every ache
until my heart explodes, until each hair
is grey. Your memory pushes me further
how strong so few moments are.
But I have known you forever.
There was a star that night
did you see it, the brightest one
in the sky.
It sparkles only in the Summer sky
and as I looked I wondered
if you saw it too.
Did you hear the song from the songbird
that night. Did the wind carry it to you,
or my whisper
a crazy man talking to himself
no you heard me twenty miles away.
You felt me shiver and you wanted to keep
How many more Summer nights must we spend
apart, how many more will we see
with a million stars dancing away
too hot for blankets, just a sheet will do.
You smile and I wonder why
I’m smiling too
You are just smiling back.
I can’t help it
and neither can you.
I can not help but smile.
It’s not how your face glows,
the feel of your skin,
the embrace of your fingers,
the smell of your perfume,
the song from your lips,
nor the touch from them
oh how soft your lips can be.
I smile and you smile back
the languages you speak
it’s too many how could
you ever choose me.
I smile and you smile back
you know as I do
how happy I am to be with you.
I paint your smile
on a canvas that forgets
that you are not mine
and I cannot have you.
My dear cherry blossom
the earth shifts you
closer to the sun
and bees wait
for your command.
Each passing day,
I see you resting on the sand
I shall not wake you
Let the waves crash upon the shore
and the water tickle your feet.
The ocean loves you
embracing your hands
fullness of breath
there is no one else here.
the color of your skin
I miss the color of your skin
next to mine, how we blend
together, bleed into each other
making a single portrait.
How your voice sings and catches
my deeper tones, an immediate
poem and song through
And as we attack the world
your gaze and my smile
each flower opens up
a brighter sun warms us
and the wind keeps us cooler than most.
And as we hold hands,
you can not tell which one is yours
except for your shorter finger
and my weathered grip.
But your skin, sweet like caramel
soft like fresh wool,
the sun and the moon fight
to shine their light on you.
Across the Ocean
Have you seen me in your dreams
in your memory, that time
when you and I were the only
two people left.
It was time to go you said
I could have stayed forever.
Where are you from,
I know you from somewhere,
We could not have just met
four hundred years ago
twenty years from yesterday
I touch your lips
and still you tell me to leave.
How can I not love your eyes
that let me look across the ocean
I was there with you then
you have seen me before.
My fingers across your skin
barely touching you
holding you like a flower holds a branch.
This time you stay, you said.
From the moment we met,
I never left.
I popped over to the Heard Museum today. It’s a museum with Native American art and exhibits focusing mostly on the SouthWest. I’ve been meaning to go here and actually come down here during the World Hoop Dancing championships in February. And while it would be cool to compete, you have to be Native American to do it (no matter how good you can dance).
My little secret about doing Ironman races is to actually get into dance shape so that one day, once I have all my beadwork, featherwork, and dance clothes all ready, I can take a year off, strut my stuff, pop over to all the big Pow Wows like Denver March, Stanford, Gathering of Nations, Red Earth, United Tribes, and finish off at Schemitzun. It’s looking like that’s not going to happen until I’m 35 but probably 40 or 50 at this rate with work. Just one year, dance my heart out, and have everyone who was there wonder “who was that…” or “remember that dancer…”. Dreams are neat to hold on to and the Heard Museum was pretty cool.