You. I have a hard time writing about you. I haven’t noticed your walk and I haven’t categorized your laugh. Maybe this is because I haven’t had enough time, but maybe it is because you and I aren’t the same and he and I were.
I had time to take him in. I daydreamed for longer than I care to admit and that made every part of him a chapter to this movie I had been watching all along. I listened to him for a long time and he heard me in return. We joked and laughed and remained the same. You and I haven’t landed on that stone in the path yet.
Am I being guarded, my dear? If so I apologize. You see, you haven’t given me much to go off of. You say one thing and do not finish the other. You make me smile but after a while I rub my head out of confusion. Do you, or don’t you? Do I, or don’t I?
I try to keep him out of this but I can’t help but compare my heart’s notes. He and I made sense, but we never came to be. You and I make sense but will we ever come to be?
He looked at me, but he looked past me. After all, he had to. Will you though?
I can’t seem to make these ends meet. I’ve been sitting in this tree for so long, I don’t want to come down and face my problems at eye level. From this high up everything is right. I love the times when we are in a good place, but my confusion is overtaking them.
He confused me too.
Does that mean history is repeating itself?
Please,
no.
Tag Archives: Aris Angle
Love Is Blind. And Invisible.
I tap my fingers on the cold surface of the table. This cafe is quiet. I realize I’m tapping my fingers to the beat of the song “Winter Winds”–I wonder why.
I see the door open through the reflection of the television that is painting a soap opera in front of me and my fingers stop. I know it’s you but I’m too nervous to turn around.
Butterflies,
Butterflies,
Butterflies,
I bite the corner of my lower lip and smile. It is you. I can tell because I can smell you, that mixture of the night sky and deep woods. Just what I expected. I laugh under my breath and quickly fix my hair.
You walk closer but it seems like you are in slow motion. I watch you through the reflection once more but you are barely moving. What is happening? You finally reach me and I turn around. Your face? It’s blank, my love. I cannot see you and you are standing right in front of me. I reach out and touch you, the electricity between us is undeniable. You touch my hand and confirm my thoughts. You sit there, an almost invisible man. I know you are the one I have been waiting for, but you keep yourself from me. Why?
–Aris
When We Try, We Are Champions
Joel 3:10 msg Let the weak one throw out his chest and say, “I’m tough, I’m a fighter.”
Sometimes I feel as though I have no power. It’s like I’m holding a stone, but I cannot come to throw it. I am in love, but I cannot find the words to express it. I feel weak. It’s like I am pushed down by the naysayers day after day. When I come to my feet they wind back their arm of hate and put me back into that place of helplessness. It’s like I have a hand over my mouth. Those who do not want the truth to be known try to keep me silent. They will continue one their wordless mission in hopes that I will give in and stop screaming under their deceitful hand.
I read the words above and do the same. I throw out my chest and say, “I’m tough, I’m a fighter.”
With this God-given confidence I am able to throw the stone across an ocean. I not only find words to tell of my love, I fall further in love that I could ever imagine. The naysayers come around the corner and see me in this new confidence. They turn and run out of intimidation, never to be seen again. And the liars who try to keep me from truth-shouting begin to lose to the words I proclaim. They too run and try to clean their filthy hand of the truth it is now covered in.
When we feel weak, this is when we have to try harder than ever. We have to put our fears away and really try. With a help from above, we can see that we are fighters. And beyond fighters, we are champions. Those who try to hold us back will not stand a chance when we do this.
–Aris
On The Corner
I met the man of my dreams on the corner of Youth and Love.
We drew on the sidewalk with chalk all day and we held hands that night until they went numb.
I remember he caught my eye on the newly paved corner of Unexpected and Breathless.
My eyes didn’t blink.
I accidentally walked right into him on the uneven Corner of First and Embarrassed.
I had no clue what I was supposed to say.
We flirted on the grassy corner of Delight and Laughter.
He still had me smiling for hours even after he had gone.
Argument #1 happened on the humid corner of Misunderstanding and Immaturity.
We were so young, we had to learn how to calm each other.
He showed me how much he really cared on the comfortable corner of Genuine and Heartfelt.
He made my heart and soul dance to this song he had written.
We are older now, and we have learned so much.
That damn corner of Struggle and Pain really did us in.
But we were tough. We held one another when we cried and we made it through.
He dropped to one knee on the stunning corner of Forever and Ever.
I cried and laughed and screamed those three letters.
We became eternally each other’s on the perfect corner of Fairytale and Unending.
I can look at him still today and feel that same way.
I see the man I saw on the corner of Youth and Love.
And we will build a home here on the unmovable corner of Eternity and Captivated.
Joy is a understatment at best.
–Aris
My Resolution
This year I will fall in love.
Now when I say this I don’t mean that I have to fall in love with my Mr. Right. I just have to fall in love with something.
Be it poetry,
or music,
or laughter.
This year I will fall in love.
I’ll leave all of my fears at the doorstep of 2013 and I will walk into the party that takes place inside. I will forget my past and begin to climb the stairs of this new year. I will hold close to my friends, my family and my faith.
Now, my Mr. Right, if you care to meet me this year, feel free to do so. I’d love to get to know you. We could laugh and sing and do handsprings.
This year I will fall in love.
I will fall in love with the beauty of Creation. I will fall in love with what I have become. I will fall in love with words, I will continue to write. I will never tell myself, “You can’t” and I will make myself try new things.
This year I will fall in love.
–Aris
Mirror, Mirror On The Wall, Why Are You The Most Powerful Of Them All?
Our mirrors are mirrors that could never be, that’s why they lie to us.
That mirror in your hallway could never amount to anything. See, its not a component in a space telescope and its not surrounded in a pure gold frame and hung on the walls of Versailles. It is an ordinary, cheap, generic mirror.
Your mirror gets jealous. It sees you in your beauty and becomes envious. It forms a plan to play with your mind. As you stand there and examine your face and your clothing the mirror goes to work. You realize that you are standing there longer than usual and you try to find out what you are so stumped on. The mirror is winning now. You touch your hands to your face and you look perplexed. Your hands drop to your waist and you turn to the side. Your shoulders fall forward and you begin to think that maybe its a bad hair day, maybe this outfit looked better on you before you gained a little bit of weight. You feel like you went from beautiful and confident to insecure and ugly in a matter of moments. As you walk away with your head down the mirror grins. If this mirror cannot be a beautiful success, than neither can you.
You have a long day at work and you come home to the quietness of your apartment. You feel accomplished and someone even said that you looked nice today. Your spirits are high and your mirror takes notice. Your mind and your mirror meet once more, and this time the mirror goes to work must faster. Maybe that person was paying you a compliment out of pity or maybe you are truly insignificant in your work place. You stand in front of this mirror with a single tear cascading down your face. The mirror has some leverage now. You are falling apart even faster than expected.
You wake up and choose to not look in the mirror, after all it is Saturday, who do you have to impress? I’m sure your cat won’t mind a little bedhead and smeared make-up. You are feeling average and the sun is bright. It shines off of that mirror and it catches your eye. You walk over to the mirror and see yourself, un-edited and natural. You smile and the mirror reflects its own opinion. You feel like you look terrible now. You run your fingers through your hair and wipe your under eyes. You shake you head and walk away.
Then as you sit all alone, you start to think about how ugly you must be. After all you’re alone. You begin to cry because you feel worthless and unwanted. This mirror is basking in its success right now. Your tears are its Champaign. It celebrates. Amid your tearful thoughts you hear something in your innermost being, “You are fearfully and wonderfully made.”
You walk to this mirror once more and your mind begins to connect with it again. You stop this near-connection and say, “I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” Over and over again you say this to yourself. You begin to feel beautiful and your confidence skyrockets. You take that mirror and you go outside. You raise it above your head, preparing to slam it to the ground. But something stops you. You walk inside and grab a marker from your refrigerator calendar and you write on this mirror.
“You are fearfully and wonderfully made.”
This mirror can no longer mock you, you own it now. Every time it goes to play tricks on your mind it will have to scream louder than those words you just wrote. And it will not be able to.
You hang the mirror up once more and walk away. You are winning now.
Aris
Run.
I just want to run. You make me want to forget but you beg me to remember. I want to clinch my jaw, tighten my fist and pound through these walls. I want to be away from here, please. You confuse me and I don’t want to put up with it anymore. Yes? No? Would you make up your mind? I’m lacing up my running shoes now. Stop me before I start. I tease you as I bend down to tie the first string, you laugh along and I think I hear you say, “Don’t do that,” but maybe it is all in my head. I loop the string and lay the other on top of it. Stop me, really. Running is the only way out of this. You smile and I remember that I shouldn’t have even put these running shoes on my feet. My feet belong here. Wait, wait, wait. You are changing your mind? Or is this how you’ve felt this whole time? Please, make a move. Do SOMETHING!No? Fine then, here we go. I tie the first shoe and move to the second. There may be murmuring in the background but I close my eyes tight and continue to tie. Both shoes are ready. They are tied in sad, yet secure knots. I’m running. Don’t try to stop me.
My knees bend and I lean forward, I’m going. My heart is yelling at my feet, “GO, GO!” but my feet remain here. Please, would you give a shove, I need to run but I cannot. I need you to do something. Either untie these shoes or push me forward. Your choice. But every moment you wait my heart sinks more and more.
COPYRIGHT ARIS ANGLE
Sense Doesn’t Make Any
Humans are perfect.
Do not shake your head quite yet, friend. Please, read on.
We are perfect when it comes to failing. We never get it right.
We are perfect when it comes to hurting those we love. We are selfish.
We are perfect at lying and breaking our word. We are tired of making an effort.
We are perfect at doing nothing at all. We believe things should come to us at our beckoning.
We are perfect when it comes to being blind. Again, we care far too much about ourselves.
Humans are flawed.
And now you are agreeing. You are one complicated person, my friend, but I’m right there with you.
We are flawed in the way we chose to love. We forget what love means.
We are flawed in the way we speak. We are ignorant.
We are flawed in our actions. We are impulsive and impatient.
We are flawed by those around us. We let them shape our individuality so that it matches theirs.
Being perfectly flawed in all of these things somehow makes us better. We cling to one another and suddenly all of our emotional wrinkles and sunspots fade away. We make each other ok. We learn to work against our perfectly flawed nature and we become great. We are not perfect by any means but we learn to love and this endeavor leads to perfect happiness.
Humans, how curious a creature…
COPYRIGHT ARIS ANGLE
When The World is Quiet
Time is frozen by the chilled winds of naysayers. This bitter wind commands pens to cease writing. It barges through the locked doors and arrests creativity. This sharp and furious wind cuts out the power of the Makers and they are forced to stop innovating. Children cry because they sense the wrong-doing. Mothers cry along because they are ashamed that their children must live in a place like this. The fathers become powerless. Their pitchforks are no match for this evil weather. The strong run into the streets waving torches as they tease the wind. They musn’t stop or they will be overtaken. The hateful and invasive wind continues…
The atmosphere changes, words that cut deep leave the daydreamers thoughtless. Surrounding energy shifts. The sun runs and hides. The roads become invisible and the air becomes dense and clammy. Insults are hurled at the blossoming leaders and they crash against them like the angry ocean waves against innocent cliffs. They tell themselves that these are lies and they continue to lead. They shake their heads and try to dream again. Mentally they must push forward or they will be captured by these unforgiving waters. These oppressive waves continue…
Oh, they are so easily taken down by these attacks. They musn’t give in now, for they are of great importance. Wind and waves cannot hold them down. I tell them, please, stand up! Fight the wind, you are capable. Curse the waves and teach them their place, the power to do so is somewhere within you. For the love of God fight!
Then they all stop trying to fight it. The winds and waves roll over them, leaving them speechless. Hussssh, do you hear the nothingness?
The world is quiet when the Greats stop fighting and fall silent.
COPYRIGHT ARIS ANGLE
The Death of “What If…”
I am taken away. I am brought to a place I have never seen. I finally have the courage to open my eyes and I see a dark cave surrounding me. In my hands I hold a golden lamp. How it got here, your guess is as good as mine.
I look down and squint at the shining gold and I see my perplexed reflection. Forward and backward. Forward and backward, I temp the fairytale I was told as a child as my hand moves along the curved side of the lamp. To my amazement something emerges from this lamp and it hovers before me.
I know what this–being is. It is a genie. Here to grant my wishes.
This massive grey creature bends down and asks, “Master, what do you wish?”
I realize now that my mouth has been dropped open, so I close it and stand to my feet. My hands shake so I push them into my pockets. I try to open my mouth again but it is so dry I simply close it and start to think. “A wish.”
“Master,” he politely yet somberly continued, “what do you wish?”
My mind, unlike my mouth, was not dry. My thoughts raced faster than my rapidly beating heart. I could wish for love. I could wish for success. I could wish for peace. Then I realize that surelyI have multiple wishes. Power returned to me and I spoke, “I wish for true love, success and for my final wish I would like peace.”
The genie shook his head and spoke in his deep voice. The only way I can describe his booming voice was that it was grey. Deep and powerful yet not in a scary matter like that of black. He was calm and crisp with his words, “You have but one wish, Master.”
Puzzled, I looked into his eyes and said, “One?”
“Yes,” he replied, “I grant one wish and one wish alone.”
I asked no more of him. My mind took control. What would make my life better? What would bring me a good future? What if I wished for prestige or power? What if I wished for wealth or fame?
“What if,”
I began to think, then it hit me.
“What if…”
This phrase causes wars. It causes heartache. “What if” makes children and parents alike fearful. These two small words cast a big shadow over us all. They confuse the mind and hurt the heart. It makes us uncertain and anxious. It eats at our thoughts and tries to tell us how to live. “What if” stands in our way and tells us that we cannot pass through. I’ve made up my mind.
“I wish for the death of ‘What if’, genie.” I spoke with the hot cave air making sweat pour down my face, “I want to always be certain of things.”
He smiled and said, “Yes, master.”
Ice water flowed through my veins and my body fell.
THUMP.
I open my eyes and expect that we are out of the cave, this genie and I. But my eyes focus in on something totally different. I squint at something piercingly white. “Is this another lamp?” Focus, focus…My eyes finally see, I am holding my vibrating phone as it demands that my rising time has come. I now see that I fell to the ground. I pick myself up and walk to my bathroom and rub my face in an effort to wake up faster. I comb my hair and throw it up into a ponytail. I brush my teeth and put on the clothes I had hanging on my closet door knob. I grab my keys and walk out.
I start my car and begin to drive. I pull out of my driveway and turn right then continue on. I’m stopped by an angry red light that seeks to outshine the always loved “green light”. I wait my turn and my time has come. I move my foot to the accelerator and push down. My car stalls and waits. As I push harder and harder on the peddle a semi-truck flies, tearing through my desired path.
I gasped and closed my eyes…waiting for impact.
Nothing. I open my eyes to see that the traffic light is still green. I exhale and I feel about 50 pounds lighter after I do. I push on the accelerator once more. The car moves. “Wow, that was close. What if…”
“What if…”
My time with the genie comes back to me fast and harsh like a bag of bricks being flung at me. “Wait,” I say out loud, “I wished for the death of ‘What if’,”
I continued on my way. I pulled into my usual parking space at work and lock my car with the remote as I close the door. I walk and I realize someone walking up alongside me. It’s Nate. He is new to my department but we talk often. He notices me and smiles, “Are you ok?”
“Yeah,” I reply, “I was almost in an accident. I guess I’m a bit shaken still.”
He walks nearer and embraces me, “Goodness, well I’m glad you are ok. If you need anything at all let me know. I’m always here for you.”
His handsomeness nearly drowns out these kind words and so I nod, hoping that that is an appropriate response. We continue on and walk toward our offices together, mine is nearest and so I begin to turn into the doorway. I’m stopped by a gentle yet assertive hand that holds fast to my forearm.
“I’m really glad that you are ok. Just do something to take your mind off of it. How about lunch?” asked Nate
Taken back I smile and say, “Sure. I’d love to.”
“What if…”
My mind wanders. Yes, “What if” causes us to wonder and sometimes worry. But sometimes “What if” is a peck on the cheek from the future. “What if” is a promise from curiosity and a hint from happiness. “What if” keeps us hopeful, it keeps us guessing.
As I walk to my desk chair and turn around to sit down I catch a glimpse of Nate. He smiles so big and bright that I can clearly see it past the desks in the open area between our offices. He makes a childish gesture to symbolize eating. Then he looks at his watch and mouths, “Only three hours away.”
I blush. Maybe “What if” isn’t so bad after all…
COPYRIGHT ARIS ANGLE
Legends of Youth: 