My name is Casey

Like Most Revelations

It is the movement that incites the form,
discovered as a downward rapture--yes,
it is the movement that delights the form,
sustained by its own velocity.And yet

it is the movement that delays the form
while darkness slows and encumbers; in fact
it is the movement that betrays the form,
baffled in such toils of ease, until

it is the movement that deceives the form,
beguiling our attention--we supposed
it is the movement that achieves the form.
Were we mistaken? What does it matter if

it is the movement that negates the form?
Even though we give (give up) ourselves
to this mortal process of continuing,
it is the movement that creates the form.

Richard Howard


You turn to me with frozen lips
Your hands are icy cold
Your eyes burn bright against the frostbit sky
You never seemed more lovely than you do tonight
Pale on the horizon,
Like leaves frozen on the snow
Our two shadows merge inseperably
And time stands still as its pierced with cold

The more I live
The more I know
What's simple is true
I love you

There's a warmth in my heart
That haunts me when you're gone
Mend me to your side,
Never let go
So time knows nothing
We'll never grow cold
The more I live
The more I know
What's simple is true
I love you
Twilight descends on our silhouette
How soon spring comes
How soon spring forgets
I wanna hold time, say it'll never begin
Old man winter, be our friend
Old man winter, be our friend
The more I live
The more I know
What's simple is true
What's simple is true
I love you
I love you

designed by jo naz

Thursday, January 27, 2005

 

It's strange now, to sit in my room silent but for the endless patter of rain, heavy on my window, glancing gently at the pages of carefully scrawled poetry that I've perused countless infinities of times in the preceding weeks. It's strange to have just gotten off the phone with him, bid him good morning, let him know how happy I was, and sent him on his way. It's strange the way we spent time last night looking for rings, something that could in some way become a concrete symbol for us and our love, something that could remain beautiful for the eternity that our love will remain strong.

It's strange because I'm happy, and until him I just wasn't quite used to that.

I'm happy because I have him. I'm happy because I love him, we love eachother, and this isn't the sort of love one could possibly walk away from or want to walk away from. I'm happy because neither of us want to walk away. I'm happy because in less than a year (something to the tune of 49 weeks) I will be where he is, we will be together everyday without question. His parents will marvel at the sudden end to the 15,000 minutes on the phone bill, blissfully unaware that we've traded such petty amounts for time for all out constancy. I know we'll have to spend an amount of time apart... but to see his face and feel his touch every day will be incredible. By then we'll have been together for just over a year and a half... Just over a few eternities.

It's silly for us to use time as a measure for the amount of time together... The days I spend without him are both eternally slow and brilliantly quick paced. The days I spend with him exist in a realm beyond reality, and when the day is over it feels as if time has fled so quickly, but while it is happening the world seems to stop. Time, as intangible as it was, is only more so now. what little about it that once was concrete has now become entirely abstract. My heart, my brain, and my watch all seem to keep different times. My brain tells me the days are fleeting, that with such hindsight I have only just met him. My heart tells me that the world has quietly resigned to timelessness... and my watch ticks ticks ticks marking seconds that mean nothing because i'm not in his arms.

Somehow, when I'm not in his arms I'm positive that I am some formless mass... he gives me shape.

I love you |6:01 AM