altheabashar

consolidating blog space

2010-05-20T00:23:27Z

Hello!

Thank you for reading my poems on Live Journal . . . This is just a note to say I'm consolidating blogspace by publishing my poems on the Blog of Innocence now. You can pick up the RSS of this blog here.

Thank you,
Lethe

poem

2010-05-11T10:16:41Z

one dead end after another
and you think you see your friends

at the end of the block, cheering

but remember the two courses
split somewhere

and you were always running

jumping, ecstatic, revered
in love, hysterical

on a single path
smothered with pink blossoms

(Purposeless Solitude--Free Poetry eBook)

poem

2010-05-06T04:16:54Z

I'm thinking of jumping
into a dark pool
of absence

the trigger is the body
giving out slowly, unable
to follow misfortune

into another day

the sad ritual of growing distant
continues to
weaken every decision

my heavy breathing
in a cocoon of muscles
is all I will hear

until I hear your voice.

Purposeless Solitude (Free Poetry eBook)

poem

2010-04-30T05:15:35Z

the idle, suspended world I live in
is but a constellation of strangers
drifting forward and back through the aisles
of an unreliable stock exchange.

I'm fixed in the center, under the symbols,
poised to write everything down,
maybe I'm daydreaming or thinking
that girl over there will notice me

in either case, my performance is arbitrary
and this crazy investment in living
requires increased borrowing and
greater debt.

Purposeless Solitude (Free Poetry eBook)

poem

2010-04-22T22:45:27Z

my neighbor stops his car
in front of my house
to tell me
you haven't changed
still smoking, looks like you gained some weight
and I laugh
because I was just thinking
that sometimes life requires us
to change

I guess changes are not always visible
to outsiders, my neighbor
I hardly know him
he has a cat
he talks to it
when I'm driving home
sometimes I see this neighbor
he scowls at me or gapes
like I'm going to hit him
sometimes I nearly do.

Purposeless Solitude (Free Poetry eBook)

poem

2010-04-21T09:48:33Z

some leave empires behind
and others
small houses that disappear,
the empires, once
mammoth and intricate
now tower in decay,
the houses--who knows
who lived there,
could have been anyone--
the empires are written down
in history books and
columns of newspapers,
the houses age with the maple
leaves, as if their owners
knew all along
they wouldn't be here forever,
and the empires--
won't go away.

Purposeless Solitude (Free Poetry eBook)

poem

2010-04-20T12:47:22Z

this is an unlikely time to write a poem
and yet I'm awake
between the hours of floating dreams
and tepid thoughts, I cannot change
these unwieldy habits of mine, they grow
into monstrous gardens of self-
indulgence, and I feed them like a mother
spoiling her child, but what is there to
regret, I love my errant ways, they bring me
countless mischievous pleasures
though I must be growing old, I can feel
the lumbering going on, my weight carried
from here to there, I don't go many places,
a fixed schedule on most days,
though I look at people with eagerness,
as if they might want to talk to me, some do
and that is enough.

More Poems . . .

poem

2010-04-13T09:29:25Z

I sat in my garage
and listened to my neighbors'
children play
the sun held its last
bending light
and I smoked my first cigarette
since I had woken up;
the day was ending
but brilliant for that
last unspeakable hour
and the children ran
indoors for brownies with fudge sauce--

I am often reminded
of how my life
is so different from theirs
they seem to live in contentment
on the other side of the fence
unwitting, perhaps, the peace
in that last light which falls on me,
a remnant of what
I've missed, or didn't bother
to know enough about, I feel
the placid breeze, the sunlight
before it crawls away.

More Poems . . .

poem

2010-04-11T09:35:34Z

on this flight you will miss
most of everything

girlfriends, jobs,
even holidays with family

you'll awaken to an unforgiving
landscape

the wind will speak in dribbles
like an oracle

you'll know the absence
by its charmed face

many of us flying into the same
blankets of clouds

will show no fear--
I believe that we are

recalled, perhaps memorized

by those
who have not
disappeared.

More Poetry

poem

2010-04-03T09:25:29Z

every passion I owned
has lost its flavor
except one

where am I headed
on this wave of indolence
where does it lead?

we can stay friends
and I will continue
to entertain you

my thoughts
are so purposeless
yet I rely on them

a glimmer of emptiness
is what I see
in the sky tonight

it keeps me awake,
with no time or
too much time

I suppose that
it's a good thing
night erases doubt.

More Poems . . .

poem

2010-03-29T05:36:54Z

the silence after work
is deliberate--
a released pressure
built into the machine

and when we stop,
the living begins.

the hour of leisure
you kept for yourself
like a prized medallion
in a satin box,

can now be opened.

More Poems . . .

poem

2010-03-09T04:22:50Z

here I am, enjoying a moment
practicing the art
that gives me most pleasure
and I wonder why I make
my life so incompatible
with joy

destiny corrects the living
in a way only the gods will ever know

as if I'm divided into
two people with opposing agendas
I must make concessions
to each of them

I'm the arbitrator of two
separate omens
their nagging obsessions require
I split the share of my life

without the whispering
or the shouting of the other
interested party, this simple pleasure of
writing poetry
would gladly be mine.

More Poems . . .

poem

2010-02-25T07:44:53Z

I remember the hours
that leaked carelessly
into giant tureens,

what happened
to the forbidden city
I once found in this bookstore?

the inhabitants all look at me
strange

time is no longer a question
the funnel of things
never stops running

you find a place to disappear to
and they make it change
this is life in America

a pleasure gone bad
hours eroded by
too much exchange

this was my chair, a fake leather seat
I read there
without distraction

I used to hear
tiny feet scuffle
across the industrial carpet

today and tomorrow
were spread
so far apart

and the hours poured
smoothly
into small children's hands.

More Poems . . .

poem

2010-02-21T07:54:19Z

the pleasures are fleeting,
on some days you're wondering
if they even exist
but in the slow station
of all our lives, a moment of being
comes and goes, lingers for awhile
out of a plateau, pleasures rise
this wondrous hot spring
fills you with momentary delight
and even the thoughts you are thinking
echo with reason and brilliance
and even the coffee tastes incredibly rich
so you want more of the experience
and less of the waiting, I suggest
a simple remedy, I suggest
breathing, maybe taking a break with me
on the pier, we'll sit and listen to
the waves crash

More Poems . . .

poem

2010-02-17T06:11:22Z

I dreamed of a woman
several feet from my bed,
her long torso leaned
against the doorway, her coral skin blended with the light
and my eyes were neither open
nor closed though I felt
a vague intimacy between us,
there was no exchange
only a mutual feeling
we were together, like a couple
like lovers or close friends.

I don't usually sleep during the day,
but today I slept and dreamed
of her again, I wonder
why I never see her face
only her long torso rising up
into half-hidden arms,
she's completely naked
standing there in my bedroom
steady against the doorway
like an echo that can't be reached
but only heard.

More Poetry

poem

2010-02-10T08:58:22Z

the coil of my existence
will eventually unravel
so I can see the whole thing at once

my useless pangs,
the hopeful whispers
and many many lies

one day I'll understand
my grief

a purposeless solitude is mine
neither here nor there

wandering ecstatically into
the snow at night
to unbury my car

gigantic flames burst
out

it never moves, my fixed self
I can't stay here, I'll freeze
help me out of this snow
the car seems stuck

when did I bury myself?

I'll wait here forever
the dusk is dusty tonight
I'll wait under these stars
I'm sure you'll come

More Poems . . .

poem

2010-01-21T08:12:04Z

I go down into the cool basement where
the open foundation peers out of the walls
upstairs she's sleeping, beautiful and
uncomplicated, in a dream I'll never know
my cats want to know what happened
what can I say to them?
I'm sorry, I went back to smoking . . .
don't come down here, I want to be alone
my work is fulfilling but
there is something the size of a needle
it rents a hole inside my brain, a tunnel of worry
air escapes and makes things cold
I used to have that control
things to keep me busy, a goal, some bright idea
countless directions and possibilities
the reason why I came down here tonight
I had a meaning,
a strong sense of knowing
but now I just shiver from the dropping temperatures
and wait for the old spirit of wonder to make me feel better
the basement is a blunt place
to awaken the soul
so what was it I came down here for?
the future has no home,
it looms like a pendulum, moving
from desire to desire, and back to
love, time-honored
my teeth sink deeper into a bed of gums
I'm growing old, and in my house
like guests, they come and go
they smile, nod, give encouragement
I return to this
rhythm of exhaustion.

More Poetry . . .

poem

2010-01-17T08:40:44Z

the memory of disappointment
looms over every lover's head,
the pain of longing is

protracted
extending into future lives,
the world turns

in a continuous way

nothing is permanent
and that makes me dream
again

More Poetry

poem

2010-01-16T04:08:57Z

the people we dream about are
enigmas
and they have overwhelming powers
with their words, with their ideas

how could a few words
produce
a bright little dragon of hope?

still the experience is inchoate
not finished yet,
it conceals the final result

this state is more like a dream
than a perpetual longing--
the hope which

alters your reality
will most likely
fly away on butterfly wings

and yet I live for the chances,
how encouraging
when she wakes me out of bed
and dips me into a bath of possibility

not impotent fantasy
but real hope--
the kind that promises

an ultimate end.

More Poetry . . .

poem

2010-01-15T07:25:04Z

surprises--what are surprises?
looking back they lose their glow

wishes may be granted
if my wishes are granted
then I will breathe easily

dreams, fantasies, terrors
the cat meowing at the shut door
purposeless I drift in my cocoon
of wonder

my story is so old, so repetitive by now
not even you would like to hear it

my humdrum life, the wheel
of it turning--with only
vivid fantasies to keep me alive

I ache with wonder at
the slow action of my self
growth and maturity are
not quick enough for me

I need a dream to hang on
I need an opium pipe to suck in
clouds of happiness

there is nothing,
not even anger anymore
just the longing

a lake of separation between us.

More Poetry . . .

poem

2010-01-10T23:05:50Z

I don't know if I can ever satisfy my longings
With any person or thing,
My outward gaze
Sees a paradise of fleeting figures
Some lost, others connected by
A rift--

I invite this shapeshifting desire
Into my life,
I call it forward, only to turn it down
And my adventures
I'd never give them up, I live
For change, transformation, renewal
But how dark it is to exist in a

pool of longing and astonishment.

More Poetry

I Like it When I Stop

2009-12-05T05:18:49Z

I like it when I stop,
For whatever reason I stop.

Now I'm dabbling in the moment, drawing in my notebook, combing the cats or cutting
Out pictures on the couch . . .

A voice will nag me to stop and get up and do something, like Father's,
But I ignore it--

In a carefree way, I read my book;
Maybe I'm behind on my work,
Perhaps Father's nervousness was justified.

All the heaps of things to do,
All the consecutive chores,
All the lofty goals,
The force of progress becomes a blur.

What I love the most is this,
A place of utter emptiness,
Where Hours go unrecorded,
And minutes disappear, unmarked by significance,
Yet full of meaning too, pregnant even, like a secret.

More Poetry

Recognition

2009-11-23T22:24:18Z

Reading a literary book on the art of the memoir, I had an insight about my father. I pictured that both of us were on parallel tracks--that despite the differences in our chosen vocations--I would become very much like my father.

And I tried to picture more deeply who he was.

As if from another region of my mind, I pulled a transparent film over my father, covering his outsized character, his successes, his failures, his determination, his foolishness . . .

And that transparent film was me.

More Writings by the Author

I Knew

2009-11-12T10:05:02Z

What I am living now, I knew would happen;
I dreamt this life, just not the end.

More Poetry . . .

Constant Craving

2009-10-17T01:05:51Z

Now would be a good time to quit,
Said the pharmacist with red hair.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow--
You will feel better.

Yes, I nodded my feverish head
And carried the medicine home . . .

Perfect moments must eventually
Give way to the physical self.

Now I recall dining with the queen,
Laughing at the actors on stage,

Now I recall the polite doorman,
Holding back the heavy door,

Now I recall our evening walks
Dispelling every doubt we had.

But constant craving doubles back
Like a charmed snake;

My heart is never full.

More Poetry . . .