Don’t Leave Me On Read

In the silence is a scene that plays in my mind

It’s like hoping for a train that might never arrive

It’s like setting an alarm when I’ve run out of time.

It’s like digging for a diamond by searching the sky

 

And I feel like I’m sleeping without waking or dreaming

Like I’m simply repeating the same page I’ve been reading.

And it feels like the meaning is not what I’m seeking

But I know what I meant.

Do you know what I meant?

 

Am I wasting my breath, am I wasting my life

If I’m waiting to see if you’ll come to my side?

As I restlessly sit on the words that I’ve said,

I’m begging you, baby, don’t leave me on read.

 

Like if blood frosted over and nipped at my nose

Like the Sun coming closer to check if it glows

I have lost my good reason and I hope it shows

Since I know what I sent.

Do you know what I meant?

 

Am I wasting my breath, am I wasting my life

If I’m waiting to see if you’ll come to my side?

As I restlessly sit on the words that I’ve said,

I’m begging you, baby, don’t leave me on read.

 

Am I wasting my breath, am I wasting my time

If I’m waiting to see if the stars would align?

To the heavens I have but one meager request

Please give me an answer, don’t leave it unsaid.

Oh give me an answer, don’t leave me on read.

The Hanging Garden

In a land far away in both distance and time,

A young architect drew up a project sublime

For the woman he loved who would wistfully sigh

When recalling her home and the garden outside.

 

“In my hand is a plan for a tower so grand

That it shall be the greatest in all of the land.

The exotic and verdant will spill from the stone

And with flowers more gorgeous than she’s ever known.”

 

With the laborers gathered the work was begun,

The young architect toiling until it was done.

Not a person could tell what the construct was for

They all pondered the meaning of so many floors.

 

Yet the woman he loved was amazed in delight

As the green of the garden hung high in the sky.

The expression she wore was like nothing he’d seen,

She had wide open eyes and a grin so serene.

 

And he thought to himself that when it is complete

“There would surely be nothing in life that’s as sweet.”

So the young man returned to the labor once more.

For the sake of the smile of the one he adored.

 

Then as years came and went the young man had grown old

But the feelings he harbored had not yet gone cold.

So he sought out the woman to give her this wish

That he spent all his life wrapping up like a gift.

 

The old man found her grave upon asking around,

So ornate and resplendent with flowers from town

Upon placing a rose on the grave of the queen

He returned satisfied to the garden unseen

 

For the queen of the kingdom could never have been

Any more than a distant, untouchable dream.

As he looked from the top of his tower above

He could now perhaps be with the woman he loved.

Idyll Of Trees

The verdant umbrella flaked in golden light

A tree I’ve embraced to shelter me through spring

As the rains soaked me through until I was rain too.

So much hope in this tree which would bear much fruit

 

The summer of stars marred by sleepless nights

A disparate desperation in the separation

As my health slumped against the bark-hewn trunk

Hope buckled under my weight against the root

 

The bones like lightning scattering through sky

A chill of leaf-laden whispers surging into screams

As autumn coughed in my nose, mouth, and ears

My tree leaned in the breeze and crushed me.

 

The woodcutter returned and pushed me aside

A crashing of all that I knew splintering amok

As he swung his ax like the fury of winter

The woodcutter separated me from my identity.

 

Together a fire was made to heal my bitterness

From the remains of a tree that I believed could save.

I see now a dead tree gives no life until killed.

Covered in bruises and ashes I was at peace.

Half Rhyme

There’s a hole in my heart that I’ve tried to fill up

And I found a few shapes that I thought would be good

But no matter how hard I could force them in place

I could see it’s no good and start over again.

 

It’s like missing a note in a dissonant chord

I was searching for something to make me feel whole.

When I met you I didn’t want to make that mistake

But you taught me a secret that I have to face.

 

I think you and I, we’re like half-rhymes

Others say we’re wrong but I think we sound right.

And that’s why we’re like half-rhymes

We may not be perfect but I think we sound fine.

 

That if I were a puzzle then you were the piece.

But the truth was that you weren’t perfect for me.

Yet to look for perfection is foolish indeed.

I won’t burden a person to make me complete.

 

And I think you and I, we’re like half-rhymes

It may not be easy but it is worth the fight.

And that’s why we’re like half-rhymes

We may not be polished but who says we can’t shine?

 

You and are just in time

The rhythm and the beat tell me that we are alright.

I’ll be yours if you’ll be mine.

It may not sound perfect but we can still rhyme.

 

The Sun and Me

Welcome back to Etymonday — the weekly, unprofessional, perhaps even incorrect etymology and thoughts blogcast.

The previous week I mused on stars, so perhaps it’s convenient to talk about the closest and brightest star in our sky, the Sun, and specifically, it’s many variants and names that I find personally interesting.

The word “sun”  comes from the Old English word sunne, which comes from the Proto-Germanic word sunnon, which comes from the Proto-Indo-European root suwen. Much like the word “star,” the word for sun seems to have remained remarkably static throughout the centuries, perhaps because the Sun itself is so utterly constant. More than even the stars, which ancient peoples have noticed had a few stray actors such as the planets or the occasional meteor, but the Sun never changed. Still, as it evolved in other languages, such as into the Greek helios or the Latin sol,  or the Sanskrit surya, the symbolism behind the Sun seems fairly universal. Interestingly, suwen may be related to the word for south, due to the fact that the people who spoke Proto-Indo-European would have always been in the Northern Hemisphere; therefore, the Sun would have always appeared in the south. Only along the equator does it appear that the Sun travels perfectly east to west across the sky.

The Sun was often seen as the embodiment of heavenly perfection for many civilizations across time. Cults that worshiped the Sun must have been nearly ubiquitous across the surface of the Earth, as even we acknowledge now in the modern day that nearly all of our energy production is driven by solar energy. Wind and water? That energy comes from the input of solar energy that moves those substances. Fossil fuels? Any bio-fuel can be traced back to chlorophyll and plants, which source their energy from the Sun. Geothermal and nuclear energy perhaps are the only two that do not have a strictly solar origin, but even they are byproducts of a previous Sun that exploded in order to create the materials that eventually coalesced into the Earth. Alchemists of Europe believed the Sun to be made of the perfect material, which was crystallized in their pursuit of gold.

In fact, it might be worth to take a trip down the halls of world mythology in order to see how people viewed the Sun. The Sumerians believed the sun to be Utu, the dispenser of justice and truth, rider of the sun chariot, a concept that survived since the Neolithic era. The “solar barque” was a ship that the Sun rode on, which is reflected in Egyptian mythology with Atum the sun-god and Horus the god of the sun, and later Ra. It almost seems as if control over the Sun shifted over time as different kingdoms within Egypt rose and fell from power, as if conquering the mythology of the Sun itself was symbolic of asserting absolute authority.

The Greeks perceived the sun as the god Helios, and later, Apollo. Interestingly, the earliest epics of Homer see Apollo in a different light than the Romans who saw Apollo as a shining, solar god. In any case, the original driver of the solar chariot Helios, son of Hyperion, was thought to be all-seeing and diligent, attending to the dangerous and skillful task of daily controlling a chariot that had the power to set the entire world on fire. The Romans believed something similar but went on to eventually call the Sun Sol Invictus, the unconquered Sun, incidentally, whose festival was celebrated on December 25th to celebrate the passing of winter solstice and return of longer days.

The list goes on and on, and one can peruse Wikipedia’s article on solar deities for themselves, but the point is that the Sun represents power. It is considered masculine in almost all mythologies (although the Proto-Germanic word was feminine, and there’s evidence of a Pan-Asiatic sun goddess such as in the Japanese goddess Amaterasu), and is even the chief god in some, the son of a chief god, or at the very least a high-ranking, respected member of the pantheon. The Sun is never to be looked down upon or trifled with, and many who dare try in these mythologies are punished to the utmost and destroyed.

The Sun represents power and life. Bright, burning, beautiful, like fire itself, capable of warming and harming. It is a measure, lengths of its day used to determine seasons and calendars, the zodiac used to determine the fate of a child. Eclipses come and go, but the Sun rose and set every single day since eternity without fail. Nothing else could compare to the persistence of power of the Sun. A sunny disposition is someone who is bright and cheerful, full of energy and optimism. The Sun is hope in solitary constancy, that things will not change despite how things appear to change. Could it be that the Latin word solus as in “alone” (where we draw “solitary” or “isolated” from) is related to the fact that there is only one Sun who is unaccompanied by the moon or the stars?

It was not actually so large a leap in logic to think the Earth revolved around the Sun rather than vice versa due to the role the Sun played in the minds of men. Who could ever have accepted a selenocentric model? I also wonder what kind of mythologies would occur in a planet orbiting a binary star system. The fact that we now understand the Sun is not eternal, is not the center of the universe, and isn’t unblemished (sunspots are certainly a thing) doesn’t really diminish the subconscious veneration we all have for the Sun even in the modern day. It is symbolic of awe-inspiring strength. It is symbolic of truth and light. It is the greatest physical fire that humanity has ever experienced, and we survive in its shade rather than its full presence. It’s almost fair to say that it is the closest thing that we have to an incarnate deity.

Ode to Ontology

Weaved into warfare is worship of weaponry

Wherein the warriors wielding their wickedness,

Wreathed in a ruthlessness, rife with a wretchedness,

Reach for the route that can rewrite their reckoning.

 

Personal patience is painfully primitive.

Patriots pray for the pressure to pass them by.

Typical teachers with tenure will testify

Time will soon tell, but it’s timelessly tentative.

 

Molding to meekness, the marvelous mystery,

Marked by the man who is master of mattering.

Holding to hazardous humors of happening,

Heavenly habits are hidden in history.