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To fall and to climb
By J. Keys

*start track; Shadow of the Day by Linkin Park*

Caleb turned the corner of the rock face, quietly, and saw her standing there looking over the edge. He leaned upon the stone like a street lamp post, so comfortably, like he was waiting for a ride without a care of when it arrived or where it was going. Even knowing his presence she didn’t turn around or even shift her eyes.

Caleb observed her intently and then spoke with a perfect mix of sarcasm, spite and love as well, “I’m not here to save you, you know… “ She stared ahead, across the precipice, occasionally looking down into the deep, yawning chasm as her beautiful black hair danced in the passing breeze to reveal her even more beautiful eyes in the dusk-like light that fought to make its way through the dense clouds surrounding the land. Caleb continued as he breathed the wind-rushed air, skirting about, “…and you’re not the first person to stand there, by the way.”

He shrugged himself away from his lean against the stone wall, his arms folded as he began to pace behind her at a distance. You could hear everything; the air as it caught and captured the jagged edges of each rock line, stone and pebble. Not the least of which was each of their intentions and attitudes to say nothing of the mineral structure they stood upon. The gravel and dirt crunched beneath Caleb’s boots as he walked and the sleeves to his black trench coat scored against its own surface.

He walked to the edge beside her, about six feet away and clasped his hands behind his back in a typical “at ease” position. He breathed in deep through his nose and sighed in exhale as looked down into the collective nothing as he commented, “Well… that is certainly a long way down…” She still didn’t turn to him or acknowledge his words.

“You know a friend of mine once told me something I’ll never forget and it has stuck with me through every easy and difficult time.” Her eyes barely moved to their left corner as he spoke, looking onto the murky horizon. “He said to me that failure is hard but success is far more dangerous. If you’re successful at the wrong thing then the money and praise and status could lock you in forever.” She didn’t move or respond.

Caleb nodded to himself and continued. “You know, I’ve never learned a single thing from anything I ever did right the first time —quite an ironic realization in all that we strive for in trying and wanting to be successful or even free. And yeah, learning the hard way hurts… but it’s the only way you ever really know anything, much less learn anything. Nothing easy is ever worth as much as something not easy. Life isn’t what’s worth the struggle each day; it’s the struggle that makes life worth what it is and becomes.” She only slightly turned her head toward with a look to him like he just said the stupidest and craziest thing ever. Caleb continued to look ahead and smiled with the response, “Yeah… I know… but consider this, ” he leaned and peered over the crest as he kicked a small pebble into the seemingly, endless pit. “The distance between here and there is short enough to answer your question…” Caleb turns his toward her as he watches her watching the pebble fall, “but it’s long enough to think of all the reasons why it’s not the right answer… and there’s no way back.”

*start track; Pocket Full of Sunshine by Natasha Bedingfield*

Caleb stood up, tall, stretched his back slightly and turned around slowly and began to walk away. As he did she turned her head away from the cliff and over her shoulder at him and he stopped but didn’t turn around and said, “Oh, and one more thing, no one in this life will ever care more than you; to do, to go, to stop, to escape or to fight… for anything, from anything.” He then half-turned with his hands stuffed in his coat pockets, “But you’ll never care, believe in or love yourself as much as those around you that want and need you in their lives to do, to go, and to escape or fight the very same things.” Caleb looked down, pensively, and then up again at her, “I don’t know, sounds worth the trouble to me…” And as he walked away, his back to her, down the trail leading to the base of the mountain, he uttered one last note as he and his voice trailed away, “…you can climb down or you can fall down, but you will only chance surviving one…”

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I’ve known Patti for almost 14 year now and although I’ve never known her to be anything less than a razor sharp professional, it is the heart she puts into everything that underlies every single good thing that she is and does. So much of life can be war and I only go to war with those I can rely on and trust. Patti has always been there and I’ve always counted her there. That’s her style and way, all the way. - J. Keys (Me)

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It is an almost invisibly thin line between pragmatism and faith, though most either disagree or don’t understand this. A cliche is often uttered that “it takes a thief to catch a thief”…but the truth of the matter is that life, action and survival takes knowing the extreme and opposite of anything to understand it, defeat it or to elevate beyond it. Good, bad, light, dark… sides of the same coin in which the point, divided by an almost invisibly thin line, is so often missed. - J. Keys (Me)

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In Response
By J. Keys

He read her response with a careful skepticism. It’s not often someone can tell you what they’re afraid of and what they think of your potential to eliminate that fear –without actually doing either in plain sight or with plain words. People lie or say what they don’t mean or they just can’t unlock the vocabulary to do the opposite. That’s what makes the process of encryption through allegory and banter so powerful. It doesn’t just contain information, it contains a key and a key exists for but one purpose.

He didn’t like the supposition she threw his way, though it wasn’t an insult. More like a sign that read, “In this place sharp and jagged things live.” He moved his hands, in front of him, away from his face as he reviewed the scars upon them. He smiled as he flexed them both out; reliving the truth they expressed to him before beginning to type again.

Someone once told him that “success teaches you how to smile, failure teaches you everything else.” That’s a hard line on philosophy of life but it gives credence and purpose to our mistakes while making sure we never end up believing that the scars we bare are in vain. It also prevents the potential for cynicism or reasons ‘why?’ to be used as a shield when all that really does is stop us from trying or answering a question that always leads us to new discoveries, ‘why not?’.

Could have, would have? Yeah, maybe. Should have? Never. He had made a lot of mistakes, some even knowingly. It’s no secret that a fire will burn you… but what can anyone really know having never walked through it? That’s not an invitation to do something stupid but it begs the question –if you find a bag labeled ‘regrets’ in your closet will you also find it empty?

Many guides exist but no instructions. As much as we can deduct we can equally get wrong –both in foresight and in hindsight. So what do we know? Whether it is very little or very much it is certainly finite and certainly unique. “You never really know until you turn that corner.” –a favorite tenet of his.

With his hands laced together, comfortably mashed against his lips he stooped forward with his elbows on his knees. He stared at the screen as the cursor blinked. His words stared back at him and, for some reason, they all seemed out of place or, perhaps, just out of time. He erased them all, sighing, and opted for a much shorter, sweeter reply remembering that all of the right words don’t equal all of the right reasons. Nevertheless he looked forward to where this would go… and both her words and her reasons in reply.

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That smile
By J. Keys

I have to say, I do love to see her smile. You don’t even have to see it directly, really, you can even just catch it slightly from the side and it lights up the room and everyone around it. Hard to get enough of it, though…

When she’s gone, you notice. It’s never a topic of conversation but it’s there, in the back of your mind, like the name of someone famous you can’t remember but that sits on the tip of your tongue. It rests on your sleeve as the colder winds of the night rush over you while you wait for the sun to come back up again. Nevertheless, it’s all worth the wait.

Like the warmth from that thing we take for granted all the time, it’s hard to understand why she doesn’t already know… know that such a thing is needed, waited on and wanted. What does it take, I wonder, to convince a star that its core is the masterpiece of its life and not the bright light it produces? Perhaps if she could just get the word out, right? Either way she’s not as stuck as she thinks she is.

I know, it sounds crazy… but she gets it. Does anyone knock? Yeah, I bet they do. Does she hear it or is she just expecting the door to be knocked down? I don’t know. But aside from that or even getting to know, I have to say, I do love to see her smile.

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Letting go
By J. Keys

There was something different about her this time. She was… freer, in some way. It was almost as if the frustration she was having to face unlocked a door she didn’t know was closed. Maybe sometimes the defenses we put up end up on autopilot and we just need to run dry to realize that they were keeping out things worth our while. Interesting how such a depletion can aid us in letting go, to go farther, he thought.

That night was so much better than the one before. How quickly and surreptitiously such things and circumstances can switch like… a breeze, a crossing or a collection of all elements that make things right. He laughed, thinking that when he arrived he thought he saw her but then dismissed it… how incorrect he was and how satisfying it felt, for once.

She was over there and he was away but only a stones throw or by a clever line of text. He glued the gap of many people and chairs in this microcosmic span of lords and flies. Not a charge he volunteered for but so often is the charge of all dark things and all dark knights. Still he managed to get her attention and, more importantly, to get her to look up.

We forget; for ourselves, for others… for the sun and the sky. Sometimes we just need a chance and a reminder that in spreading our wings we sacrifice them to the fate of the power of the winds as much as we do to the hope to gives us lift and travel… to be, in some way, freer.

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Beyond These Walls
By J. Keys

“No Trespassing” read the cracked paint and weather faded sign. Attached to a cold, black, chain-link fence it flailed in the even colder wind that tried to drive him back and freeze him from capturing the beauty that existed behind it.

Barbed wire topped its scale, coated black to match its way and demeanor… but it was so obviously rusted underneath that facade. Whether blunt or sharp it was certainly bitter and deadly, dressed in a tuxedo and top hat. Either way it didn’t fool him, scare him or stop him.

A time or two his hands cramped up and nearly seized from the rushes of blade-like air that struck him from head to toe. His only refrain was to turn slightly as it cut his face like a knife that barely scratches the surface as you nearly avoid death in an almost cinematic slow motion. He then, simply, turned back and laughed, undefeated by the swath.

Any such wall would keep him out but not his vision or will to see the great things beyond it and through it. He continued; from all angles and then moved closer. The metal shook and writhed, trying to attack, but only able to throw a temper tantrum. He let out a sinister and sarcastic laugh as his eye pressed upon the glass and his hand clutched upon its pattern.

Then, stepping back, he stood still, sniffling a bit from the elemental barrage as the setting sun and warmly lit above juxtaposed against this dark defender. He thought it was a waste. Not the device but the very idea. A design so perfectly clear but a purpose that severs more than it serves. Used as a border it defines, used as an obstacle it isolates. He wondered why so many people used them in the latter manor, between themselves and others. Such a wall without a way to knock under a sky to beautiful and magnificent to contain.

He sighed and looked around as cars rushed by and the light upon the day began to fade. Having captured what he came for, he smiled and departed, understanding better and unafraid to return and know more.

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One of these days
By J. Keys

Amazing. He thought about her and her words all day, on and off. It was one of those rare and awesome experiences for him. Words and their order so important, but always one way, going out. It was somewhat of an epiphany to see them come back from another source in an almost quantum-cryptographic way –certainly so from the girl with the smile and that little black dress.

Not that it was a surprise, just that it was… what’s the word? Profound. The other day he was out driving and the sun was high and the sky was clear. There was a perfect mixture of warmth and cool air dancing in the dead of this slow winter as a soft and sweet smelling breeze rolled through his half-opened windows and drew a contented smile upon his face; his mind, immediately, drawn to the memory of hers.

So much of these days he was waiting for what was next. Such a thing can get you in a rush if you’re not careful, trying to go too far too fast and finish everything at once. That was less of his problem as each day passed which provides for a patient peace… but, still, he wanted to be inspired to say and think more, more about her and wondered when that would be or, perhaps, if it would be. He had no idea the next evolution would be a volley back on his side of the court.

It’s not that he felt he owned it… just that no one else really played in most of his experience. How happy he was to be wrong. The gravity and realization of it didn’t quite sink until he heard that song. So many times it had played since he discovered it. So much meaning it owned for so long to a time and other that had long past. But this time he didn’t just hear it again, he heard it for the first time, again. There’s a difference there. And then, all of a sudden, he knew what to say.

Songs, like emotions, can get stuck, trapped or even thrown away. We are uplifted by them both as much as we can be brought back or down by them. But their purpose and design is truly to make greater things of both our words and our dreams. This is what he saw in all such things about her and, mostly, her potential –amazing.

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A Thousand Times
By J. Keys

You could probably tell her a thousand times and just one more to be sure …and though she doesn’t think you’re a liar she doesn’t believe it when she hears it or won’t believe it for a reason I have yet to discover. It’s not quite tragic, but I wonder.

She has these eyes that are soft and blue like the ocean’s you long for in pictures on grey and rainy days. Once you’re there, if you had a reason to be somewhere else, you don’t care much to remember. She uses words that could cut you but with a voice that makes them all feel so good and worth the chance to hear them no matter what they’re about. She has this gigantic heart that shows itself in every good thing she does for the people she loves and cares about but I get the impression that it’s waiting for something bigger, wanting something greater.

Maybe that’s the rub. If she knew it and it owned her then everything else might fade. It’s a fine line between confidence and pride, I suppose. Maybe in between is the solution; not being comfortable with what you see in the reflection of a mirror but what you see through the eyes of someone who finds comfort in you. You could probably tell her that a thousand times and even a thousand times more to be sure but it would never be tragic to have, in a moment, known it was true.

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Angel,

It’s good to have you back “around” though in your absence, so to speak, I’ve had the opportunity to realize and change a lot… for the better. Indeed, my philosophy regarding “distance and timing” continues to teach me as much as it haunts me –wisdom’s double edge, yet again. My *thinks* resistance to the bullets of this life has increased exponentially. The other kind I simply continue to dodge. The cause for this has many roots that are simultaneously fundamental to this said evolution and inconsequential as I live and breathe now. That is to say it feels much better than good… “righteous” would be more accurate. I find a lot less bothersome and the things that I do, well, they just don’t last in that state very long. It’s nice. To those that see and know me it tends to show in the ways that they’re used to. But, either way, the momentum is there whether it is seen or unseen –such is me

You really made me think when you asked that question. It wasn’t perfectly poetic but it all did kind of roll together. I suppose as such a memory remains, and I grow, it’s a weight worth carrying despite any remaining stigma… or hope. And that has to be a part of it, for better or for worse, otherwise I don’t think I’d care this much or be affected the way I am to create what I did about you (or all things in such a vain)… much less share it out loud. It would appear that, too, my words “we are strange creatures” still holds.

In any event my strength, resolve and heart have grown. Blessings continue to pour into my life. I haven’t felt the ability to say or share that kind of realization in a very long time (despite the fact I have always had God beside me and so many great things given to me by Him). Nor have I necessarily shared such a comment with you. We have exchanged a lot and are deeply connected at the soul level. But I do believe, often, the best has been shown and the worst has been hidden… *looks at her, squinting his eyes with an ever so slight smile* as I can clearly see so that is also with you. *sighs* And I have always known that about you, maybe even above everything else, but I did not prosecute it like I should have… or at least not when I should have.

It would seem that life’s lessons, like history, indeed repeat themselves and that the difference between knowing a path and walking it… is still an inescapable mastership of distance and timing.

Sincerely,
Caleb

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Decoded
By J. Keys

He loved sitting across from her, if even just to listen and know what was going on in the orbit of her life. She was beautiful, truly. From the inside out and the outside in; 360 degrees. There wasn’t an ounce of pretension or apprehension in anything she said or did. She was never over-confident and always had just enough fear or doubt to make every word, reason or decision the right direction even if it meant having to learn from a mistake.

Her depth, to him, was quite obvious but yet unknown. Like looking out into the ocean you can see and feel it’s vastness… but can know nothing of what it has to offer in treasure or terror without taking the chance to explore it. That chance he probably would never, fully get… but even from the shore she was like a cool sea breeze that warms your face and gives life to your smile.

He would never suppose or hand her the unforgiving and impossible weight of “perfect”. She wasn’t that at all, but only because he didn’t believe such a thing existed. She fit. She and her heart were the kind that fit; like a Winter coat, a warm blanket… or that ever-escaping warm hug from someone who cares more than anything to make sure that hug makes it to you. What she was to become, tomorrow, was always more incredible than anything she was today.

He knew she didn’t feel like he did but he wished just the same without forgoing to count her, indeed, as a blessing to his path and heart. Regarding such things, this was no longer the unanswered question but a lesson learned and, indeed, a lesson learned just in time.

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Crashed
By J. Keys
(written to “Crashed (acoustic)” by Daughtry)

She had that inflection and sound in each word that launched, struck and crashed across the air and distance from her spoken chord to his ears. To describe such a thing or define it as her voice was unjust and far too simple. It carried a way and purpose like a collision governed beyond the laws of physics, superseding all laws by the way of fate and a welcomed, unstoppable momentum. Unlike so many things we repeat and even dread… he welcomed this mantle and imagined, this time, the wings actually upon his back and not just written in ink.

His sense of the possibility of something more was triggered at first glance but, then again, almost dismissed. However this veil was not a cover to disguise but a name to reveal something new; someone possible. He wasn’t sure if she thought so, but he was sure that it was worth, without question, the sound in each word that launched, stuck and crashed upon him.

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Belief is all important. It is a sense and system employed outside of circumstance and beyond the finite nature of what we think we know and only see in front of us. It allows us to go places and accomplish tasks that our feet and hands cannot. It is a fundamental precept that gives birth to two of the greatest elements of our humanity; faith and hope. Without belief our lives may be filled with many things but those sames lives will never be truly full. -J. Keys

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A Moment In Passing
By J. Keys

It’s always a surprise, a pleasant one. I still remember the first time. She passed me in the hallway on her way out; she always seemed to have her head down, walking in a hurry. She looked up for just a second and when our eyes met it was almost as if we knew each other from some other place or time. Even after that trying to catch a glimpse of her was like darting one’s eyes upon the night sky, trying to catch a shooting star. But what a feeling when you did and that warmth and stride filled your view.

One day I got to help her and a new door opened up. That’s how it goes when you do such a thing. It is the nature of serving or a kind thing –you get to see a part of someone you couldn’t see before. There’s one less thing in the way, one less question or doubt that keeps those doors closed most of the time. And to begin to see this in others, as I get older, seems an increasingly rare phenomenon.

Anyone can be smart but she crosses over into clever. There is a thoughtfulness that goes into wit delivered with such… flair. It speaks to someone’s depth; a measure far beyond what shows up on paper or in their human resume of experiences. In that vein her way and heart aren’t hard to reach but like any unknown path, most times, they’re just simply not that obvious. But her eyes and smile will give them both away if you can find them first. Either way it’s always a surprise, a pleasant one.

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Friend,

Strange… I don’t know him that well but it sounds out of character. People do change, though, and quite often without much notice. They also, at large and in my experience, tend to make turns like that of a clandestine operation because they don’t want to deal with the details in retort or face the potentially hard guilt that comes along with executing someone from your life –they’d rather just shoot you in the back of the head and pretend it was ‘for the best’. I’ve written about this in several articles and letters of my own.

There’s something else to consider as well; some people you think you’ve lost were never really there at all. They showed up one day and you said hi, shook hands and you got along… but they don’t grow with you or even at the same pace. I don’t know if they just don’t want to be left behind or they just don’t want to be second in line but either way? They don’t get it. They don’t get what it means to understand another human being as that human being sees, hears and tastes the world; only themselves. They let you lean on them but they don’t feel the pain that you feel. They can be strong in your presence but they’re never really strong for you, therefore they can never understand your weakness –the very thing that allows us and drives us to connect and stay connected.

My advice, for those you really love and want to fight for, is to state your case and stand your ground. If they don’t want to stand with you or have something they can’t forgive you for or see past… it’s time to move on because you can’t change another person’s mind; you can only hope to inspire them. It’s sad, I agree, and it makes me angry as I recall my own experiences with it… but it is they who are the exception and not the rule of the humanity in others out there waiting to be as great as you deserve them to be, to you.

Sincerely,
Jonathan

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“You know all we have in the end is hindsight. The problem is we never use enough foresight to begin with which is what makes looking back so bad. People start pointing fingers, ’should have, would have, could have’ done this or that. But the greatest problem isn’t what we should have done or what even went wrong –it’s what we must do next without screwing up all over again.”

-J. Keys

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Unstoppable: The End
By J. Keys

Angel walked out of the rusted and derelict gas station with a map clutched in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. She looked around, slowly, from left to right as she collapsed her sunglasses from the top of her head over her eyes. She breathed in heavy and deep as she sighed in exhale, wiping her forehead of the sweat that seemed to instantly form from the hot, unforgiving sun. It combined with endless, desolate and flat horizon of sand that surrounded her. It appeared so dry, tired and lifeless… like it wouldn’t end and there was no way out, just a road that went one way or the other… disappearing into the rippling heat.

She was exhausted. But more than that she was out; of energy, of heart, of desire. Caleb was gone. She was alone. All of this way, traveled. Bullets fired, blood shed and an evil vanquished. It almost sounded perfect, she thought to herself, as she huffed a sarcastic laugh. But it wasn’t. He was one, not out of a hundred, a thousand or even a million… he was the one. Evil, on the other hand, has copies of itself, everywhere, waiting to step in where the last version left off. Byron was just another copy… and now there was no one left to stem the tide or, selfishly, there was no one left for her.

She walked up to the driver’s side door of her car and frustratingly threw the bottle of water into the passenger seat as she leaned, sitting, against the door. She just couldn’t let it go. His face was burned into her mind… not as a memory but right in front of her. Every blink and change of scene was preceded by every, rare, smile he revealed and each good thing he did to save her from the consequences of his choices. His words rang in her head like the bell from a church tower, “A hero isn’t something that exists; a hero is something that a person becomes when they accept to carry out the will and overcome the circumstances that anyone else won’t or can’t. This time that’s me.” But why? Why did he have to go? He was the good guy. She wasn’t sure if she hated him or God or… and then her eyes began to well up as she stated to cry. She let out a short whimper before buttoning her lip and folding her arms, refusing to become a victim of things she could no longer make different or undo. She opened the door and sat down, cranking the ignition of the classic, but unkept, convertible Mustang. As the car sat, idling, she leaned upon her left hand before regaining a majority of her composure. She glanced, briefly, at the map still in her hand and then laughed, abruptly, before tossing it to the floor. She shifted the car into gear and accelerated out to the right, onto the very same road that Caleb rescued her from before.

**Begin Track; “Gotta Be Somebody” by Nickelback**

The wind wasn’t cool but it was a welcomed sensation as it passed through her hair. She had no idea where she was going but, for the first time, she didn’t care. Being kidnapped, shot at and almost blown up can have that affect on you. As she drove she remembered one other thing Caleb told her, “Despair is a prophecy that always fulfils itself, hope is not a method and faith is the only real thing we can ever have in this life that can’t be taken away.” It made her smile to remember that even if she wasn’t sure if she had any more faith left. As she looked in the rearview mirror she noticed something coming up behind her. She raised up, slightly, looking closer at the reflection before turning and looking over her shoulder. It was a semi-truck. She turned back around but not before, for a just a moment, remembering and believing. She watched it in the rearview as it approached. It signaled to change lanes, in order to pass her and as it did so did a black, low profile car appeared from its bowels… it was Caleb’s car… (on beat, time +1:01) it was Caleb.

Her heart soared as her stomach knotted. She tried to breathe and scream at the same time but it didn’t work. He tailed her car as the semi-truck accelerated on, blowing its horn in a congratulatory resonance. He dove the car into the lane adjacent to her and pulled up beside her, rolling down his window halfway, giving her a tilted look over the rim of his sunglasses with that crooked smile and future-telling wink. She quickly pulled the car to the side of the road as Caleb pulled over just in front of her. She tore out of her car and ran toward him as he slid out between the scissor door of his.

She tackled him with a hug, impaling her face upon his chest as he enclosed his hands and fingers around her head and hair. She then, instantly, pushed him back and punched his arms with her fists as he laughed and complained simultaneously, “Owww…. it’s nice to see you too.”

“You knew, didn’t you?!” she accused him. He half-laughed and shrugged his shoulders, searching half-heartedly for an explanation. “I thought you were DEAD!” She exclaimed. Caleb tilted his head to the side and squinted his eyes in that now-so-classic fashion. She rolled her eyes in a slight guilt, “Well… I did…”

With her arms folded and looking down he cradled her face in his right hand, “I know…”, he sighed. “But there was something more important than me or stopping Byron…” He paused “…that I had to make sure was taken care of.”

She looked up as he touched her face and asked, “Yeah? What…”

He moved his hand down and over her heart as her eyes widened, “I didn’t go back for Byron just to kill him. I went back for you.” She stepped back, jaw slightly dropped. Caleb put his right hand on the upright, gloss-black door of his car and continued, “He would have come after you, they… ” He paused and looked away in thought, “…they would have come after you. Someone… ” He looked back at her and sighed as yet another rare, genuine smile grew upon his face at her, “And… when you save someone’s life you merely do them a favor… when you ensure someone’s livelihood you give up a part of yourself to protect that life.” Her throat and lips began to motion so as to ask ‘But why me?’ to which he answered before she asked, “Because, when you have great power doing a good thing is easy. Answering the question ‘why?’ or to do something great…” He paused, taking a step toward her, lowering his chin to look at her directly beneath his brow “…takes a reason bigger than both.”

She cracked a smile, realizing that he was talking about her, stepped back and walked around to the passenger side of his car and opened the door to get in. She stopped just before sitting down and asked him across the roof of the car, in a sarcastically conceited tone, “So, when did this all become about me?”

Caleb laughed and shook his head and sat down behind the wheel. She followed and waited for his answer, intently looking in his direction. He peered at her without moving his head and replied as he shut the door and pushed the car into gear, “It always was…” The car revved and raged forward as she smiled and sat back in her seat, placing her hand over his.

The (Happy) End

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My Friend,

Yes, all good things in time –I know.  I’m not running off or away… but just changing the nature of many things that have needed change for a while.  All things happen for a reason; all events that occur do not occur out of time and therefore they affect each moment and person that they touch.  To ignore that or not examine it is to deny the need to grow in every thing we do and that affects us.

This experience, though nauseating, is bringing me ideas, thoughts and questions that I either didn’t ask or chose not to address.  This is a good thing because I think I’ve shied away from a number of things I need to be better at, stronger at and that will get me to the point in my heart and soul that I can not only be great as an individual but also be great for others I share my life with.

None of this is me complaining or whining.  No “boo-hoo, perfect harmony eludes me” :-)  I have many times said that conflict is a milestone of civilization despite the various grotesqueries it can entail; and so it is true as well for our souls and spiritual growth.

Externally this has brought about a much more acute vision, for me, in a manner of high specificity for those people that are indeed “good”.  Even though the mass moves, mostly, amenably to one another there are only a handful that have “the right stuff” You are, without question, one of those few.  This is just as important as any other realization because as my life moves on (as all of our lives move on) we’ll be able to go beyond any one place –perhaps even together and in parallel.

That, to me, is the diamond in the rough of life. Because change will come and it will not be stopped.  No person or place is safe from it –not one.  The trick in making it through is in going with it and not trying to escape it.  The bulk of my life has been built on a blessed foundation of such a thing.  Living with that concept is what taught me to adapt, fight and soar where others wouldn’t for fear of the ground not being there when they returned… and the difference that always separated me from them, in the end, wasn’t that I knew they were wrong or pointlessly full of fear… but that I simply never planned on coming back down to the ground again, myself.

This is not a legend to become but a legacy in its infancy…

Sincerely,
Caleb

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Her Smile
By J. Keys

Caleb sat and watched, as always. Among the crowd made of both sewage and serenity there was nothing not worth observing. Such a thing is a power, not an act or function of the senses. To see something is to simply notice it; to observe it is an attempt to pierce it with understanding and prowess. It was her smile that paved the way…

She had a look that was cutting but a way that was conversely comfortable; like layers of warm blankets and pillows among the cold but precise beauty of white snow and freezing wind. To discover one suddenly complimented the other –no matter what the order.

She’s not difficult but to say she’s easy would be an insult. The parts that reside deeper aren’t hidden or locked but they require the seeker to never look back if they choose to go forward. It is in this manner that exposes the honorable and unworthy without the need for guards or towers. A manner that is alien to Caleb which, among other things, is partly what makes her so… to him.

Most people either sway or move in this life of rain and sunshine but she just flowed. Most of us in this place have to dodge the bullet –she just smiled and waved as they passed by; a smile that, indeed, paves the way…

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“There’s a simple solution to everything, we just don’t often realize it until we try all the hard, wrong answers first.”

-J. Keys

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That little, black dress
By J. Keys

I can never quite tell what she’s about to say but it always ends up being something small and refrained with something more important that gets hidden or left behind. Maybe she isn’t sure or… she just can’t because of one thing or another. Maybe it’s this place; filled with sounds and smells and characters full of noises that all seem to repeat themselves and dictate an expectation that has neither any real authority or rule. It leaves little to break away or much else make something new. Pitty.

She’s sweet and pleasant but… I don’t know… she emanates this kind of energy, like she’s trying to catch up or maybe get out. I really don’t know her so I can’t say for sure. I don’t know where she was going but the look she had, the way she looked… you wish you were the one going with her or the one she was going to see. Either way she looked incredible in that little, black dress.

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True Identity
By J. Keys

Miles gone
Far and wide
And many yet to travel
Yet length of stride
Against this tide
Set upon I do unravel

Much unseen
Though mirrors true
Reflections also lie
To say of you
From a kill to a view
Through glass and cross and sky

Starting now
From table to gate
A line of sight unmired
The nature of fate
As such things are never late
Get some rest, you indeed look tired

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P.S
By J. Keys

My ways and words can often appear abstract.  I assure you they are not.  My thought process is coherent and I am very aware of what the hell it is I’m saying and feeling.  I often wish to, and purposely, leave out context relating to any one thing I write for two reasons; 1.  the lesson learned or the philosophy I wish to share is more important than the event that brought it on and 2. I almost always wish to protect anyone from being publicly singled out as a part of my views, rants or expressions (particularly if they were the progenitors of negative action).  If you don’t understand; ask.  If you think you understand and find yourself on the negative side of something I’ve published; ask.  If you don’t then I have little sympathy for your reaction.  So why is it so important that you not only read, re-read and ask?  Because you might be wrong…

(see also: Why I Write, What I Say and Write and In Summary)

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“Perhaps I am a fool, but at least I’m an honest fool.”

-J. Keys

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I know, I know… to write something title of this nature and feel, as it were, “blessed”?  Clarity is a peculiar thing; so often wanted but equally often uninvited… and then so welcomed when it arrives.  We are strange creatures.

For anyone reading I would say either don’t worry and/or don’t take too much credit.  This isn’t just about shitty people that are obvious scumbags.  They are easy to dispatch and keep at bay.  No, when I herald the phrase, “people are trash”, I speak of those very special ones that make fools of us… those that bring out our hopes, dreams and trust and then… well… obviously.

I didn’t come up with the phrase or the inherent truth that it exposes.  It was another; one of my two best friends in this world.  Ironically this is not the only truth he helped me discover as I found my true reason for believing in God because of him as well though this particular truth I write about?  I didn’t quite get it until getting kicked in the teeth three times (almost in a row) by three people that pretty much got the best of me and took a big, steaming dump all over my heart and soul so that they could, more or less, save themselves… of, I don’t know, the trouble, the angst or maybe just the fact that fighting for anything that matters that much was just too damn hard for them.

But perhaps I digress slightly as my plight is my own whereas this larger mechanism is far more dangerous than anything insidious because it really isn’t about bad people doing bad things… it’s about good people doing bad things.  This failure secedes negotiation, forethought and the atlas hold required to bear the weight of heavy things like love, anger and passion… this very failure is the reason why people become this way, act this way and come to honestly believe that what they are doing is “for the best” when it is really, simply “in their best interest”.

The struggle, survival and our power to choose is not the test of life itself; it is the gift.  It is not the hope in each other or our ability in faith that fails; it is we who fail because we choose poorly… or worse we simply choose selfishly.

I imagine this is not over and though what I say is not untrue… it is also not definite.  Nevertheless I’m certain this is not the last time we’ll meet but I do hope and hope that I will be blessed to know better the difference, glance and smile perhaps, and let you (all of you) be on your way…

That is all.

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Noted
By J. Keys

If you’re not here to stick; go away
If you’d rather not or aren’t sure; don’t stay
I haven’t been here long
But long enough to cut short
Those that lack in why
Those that self in retort
Those that just arrived, just now
Those without law or court
No reason is no reason
As paper walls of words no fort
So mark the rhyme and the season
A winter’s summer discontent
Rather lethal, more than loaded
That which does not kill us so
Such lines best now …so noted

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“Nothing hurts when you win, nothing.”

-J. Keys

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Babble
By J. Keys

I’m not unhappy, but I know I’m not happy right now
I’m not fully idle, but I am not inspired either
I see opportunities in front of me, and I:
a. don’t pursue them
OR
b. rationalize some deep perception to not pursue them
I have stability in my position, but my confidence is not
Sometimes I think I have an idea of where to begin
Only to find out I have no idea what I’m doing
And then realize that nothing is different
It’s the same feeling
It’s the same speed
It’s the same scenarios (and outcomes)
It’s the same place
What’s the point in writing a song about
When someone else has already done so
And said it better than I ever could
My struggle to sing
Is like my struggle to hope
Or to believe that I can have that wonderful warmth
In my heart
Like I once did before
It’s all around me
It’s all a song written
Played
Broadcasted
I am resigned to listen
Only listen
I want freedom from this
From listening and feeling some way I can’t be
I want freedom from wanting to be somewhere else other than I am
I want freedom from hope for the better
I don’t want to be happy where I am
I want to be free from the places I’m not
I have God
I have faith
This is something I misunderstood
Struggled that maybe I did not have these things
Or that I didn’t understand them at all
But I do
It’s not the big picture I can’t see
It’s not life after death
It’s life now

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“Always go with your first instinct; it’s not that you can never be wrong, you just can’t ever be wronged by it. ”

-J. Keys

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The Beginning
By J. Keys

And I saw her sitting there
Waiting
Unassuming so…
Kind of there and somewhere else
Perhaps in my own mind
Waiting there
Or maybe there to go

Not in haste
But against the clock
I cast off my perch and way
To take a chance
Exposed
Without advantage
Or a clever thing to say

And I saw her sitting there
And I think for a moment
She looked right through me
And I almost
Just so almost
Stepped aside…
But couldn’t make it to be

So halfway between being caught
And resisting the temptation
She saw me standing there
And few of others
Have I ever wondered?
What she saw
Inside of me and of her stare

Was it here?
Was it there?
Was it somewhere else?
Was it almost?…
Or was it really just…

So in a moment we met and passed
As my life has come to this so much
Beginning dared as we parted
But never so in such a way
Never in a single day
And never, ever
As it started…

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“Truthfully, you never really know until you turn that corner.”

-J. Keys

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Where are you going?
By J. Keys

I thought I should tell you
That one day
I will know

One day I will know
And it will make me smile
It will make my tears cry
Instead of me
Because I will be happy
And all the other nonsense
All the other failures
Will be lost
And they
They alone
Will cry for themselves
Because they couldn’t see
They couldn’t see beyond their sense

And I won’t be sad
For them
For anything
And I won’t hate them either
I’ll just be glad
I’m not where they are

Anyhow
I just thought I should tell you
That one day
You might wish you knew too
You might wish you knew then
And if you do
It’s too late, so don’t ask…

So wherever you’re going
Wherever you are
I know
And I thought I should tell you

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“Ever given up? Whatever your answer, try looking at things differently because if you simply do that you can stop asking yourself the question and start making the statement ‘never give up!’ ” -J. Keys

(’Ever given up’ is an anagram of ‘Never give up’)

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Perfect Vision
By J. Keys

There are no more secrets. There is only that which we alone know and that which we pray no one else knows, now.

There are no more secrets. There is only information with a time limit attached before the world shall know… that which you alone pray, that which you alone know.

There are no more secrets. Simplicity gone and now called are we to shield ourselves and hide and lock up… all limited in time. Ultimately fantasy, make believe to make us believe that we are safe.

There are no more secrets. No more passwords to protect who we are, what we are, and why. No more walls to keep out the anonymous demons that prey on the peasants that cling to their perceived cover and shadow. And they, demons, shall never die and there shall never be a savior to repel them. Because in this place there is no good and there is no evil; there are only the wicked and the willing.

There are no more secrets. There are no places to hide. There is only a tale. The tale of all secrets and all secret men; the tale that those men are men soon terrified and their secrets… no more.

There are no more secrets. There is only that which we alone know, and that which we pray no one else knows, forever.

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This Faith
By J. Keys

In the city of sin
I met an angel
I shook her hand
And she asked me why I believe
So I told her this…

Of everything I’ve learned
Of everything I know and have
Only the patience I’ve built
Within my tears of faith
Could bring me unwittingly
A thousand miles…
To her
Here
Now

On this night….
A blind rendezvous I could never design
But only pray for
And that is what make me believe

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“When you try to hide your shadow, particularly that of your thoughts, you only make that shadow bigger.” -J. Keys

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Why I Write
By J. Keys

A friend one day asked me why I write some of things I do. In some dire times I can write fairly archaic poetry or prose pieces. I wasn’t sure how to answer him until I had a conversation with a girl living in my dorm who also wrote. She said that when she got to write things out it all seemed so much smaller when it was on paper. I agreed and added that in doing such a thing gave some of the most abstract, perplexing emotions and reactions a certain kind of structure outside of floating in your mind randomly; that those words written down may not always have an end solution but they have a set beginning and at least a general direction.

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“Wisdom is often a double-edged sword. It can serve just as easily as it can sever.” -J. Keys

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No Thanks
By J. Keys

*Dedicated to the weak and selfish. There’s no room for you here…

You know this really bothers me
What you’ve done
Maybe it’s that old adage
…until it’s gone

But that’s just it
You never went away
You were always there
In my mind to stay

I guess you couldn’t take it
And for a brief moment I wonder
If I was simply fooled
Simply taken under

Then I take a look around
Watching as you fall
I shake my head and sigh a little
And realize you were never really there at all

You’re a cause that lost your way
You’ve set fire to your roots
I did love you very much
So take that and burn it too

I haven’t time for you
Nor any of your kind
The blinds are blue, the sun is rising
I’m leaving you behind

So thanks indeed for everything
If anything was true
But no thanks
For your guilt
Your pain
Or your pretty rationales

Those I’ll return to you…

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Essence of the Strike
By J. Keys

The falling tree remarks the essence of combat; it contains the essence of the strike. It is not a slow moving, free falling, accidental occurrence… it is an unstoppable, momentous force planned and carried out in its own time. It has perfect purpose, place, and resolve. It will begin and end regardless of witness or concert. The strike does this; it descends though it does not move. And like the falling tree, reason fades into irrelevance and the fall becomes the only thing that matters.

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Hack (My Extreme)
By J. Keys

I do a lot of things
Some of them well
Some quite well
But it’s not good enough
It’s not to any extreme
It can’t compete
Maybe I don’t make it compete
So middle of the road
Stretched beyond my means
I always say
From time to time
I’d make a great thief
A mad criminal
A dark mind
A shadow in the daylight
In the darkness
In front of you
You see a man
Around you
You hear a thunder
Oblivious you stare ahead
And I am everywhere but there
It’s not the need to
It’s not the convenience of the fact
It’s that I can
That I’m good at it
That I can overpower every construct
Every rule
Every convention
Everything that foundations this structure
This is my extreme
Hidden
Potential
A mind that finds every hole
Every crack
Every critical break point
The things you want to keep from everyone
To keep your power over others
But I enter
Like water finding ground
Unstoppable
Shapeless, formless
But solid to my own end

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“A leader is one who must command a certain number of people and take them to a certain goal. A writer is like a commander of his existence. He not only feels, sees, hears, and acts, but he knows how to color those things with words. He not only can analyze and realize his emotions but he can tell others about it using a language they can digest one way or another. This is where writing can come to the fruition of changing the world. Because by delineating such things through writing others can have their own discoveries… and right there the world has become a new and different place forever.” -J. Keys / 1999

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“If you ever need an answer to the question ‘Why?’ -90% of the time you can answer it like this: ‘Because the world is full of stupid people.’” -J. Keys

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Encoded
By J. Keys

Why don’t you just say it?
Whatever happened to honesty?
Everybody looks at it
And they say, “Oh, hmmm, interesting.”

What they’re really thinking is
“That is f**ked up!”
So why don’t you just say it?

I’m not showing you this to make myself feel good
Or justified
Sane
Alive
Creative…
Because I already do

And I’m not trying to scare the hell out of you either
You’re scared already
I’m testing your resolve
I’m looking inside of you (not the other way around)
I’m taking your conviction
Slapping it in the face
I’m prosecuting your ability
To stand with me

Are you really that afraid?
Or do you see what I see
The code beyond the encryption
Those things between the lines
The dreams
The nightmares
The truth
So why don’t you just say it?

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Behind you
By J. Keys

Caleb approached the long line to the infamous nightclub. The night was dense and rare with no other sound but the slight chatter of the crowd in the line, cars driving by on the nearby road, and the padded, muddled echo of bass coming from inside the building.

So Caleb stood in line waiting. Looking around him, over his shoulder, listening to the chatter as he stroked draw after draw from his Turkish, sandstone pipe. Each exhale of smoke created a dragon like cloud that would raise through the air with a life of its own while the excess smoke would descend from his mouth like from that of a freshly fired pistol. Every so often he would re-adjust his black fedora hat and his long black trench coat and peer among the people waiting.

He didn’t have to wait in line; he could have walked through the front door with nothing more than a glance -if that. But he always had this commoner ideal-type and way about his profile… he preferred to be a part of the nameless and faceless even though his was known by fiercest… as the fiercest.

Always alone he stood in line -exposed in the most tactical and dangerous sense. He didn’t care though. Guarded or not he wasn’t afraid -ever. And guarded or not… he was the ultimate question mark. Stories claim his guards weren’t for his protection at all… they were for anyone who might tempt him to retaliate. Then again stories also tell of a cat in a hat who doesn’t seem to like green eggs and ham. It makes one wonder who would eat green eggs anyway. It makes you wonder if testing a man like Caleb was worth proving any such curiosity that so often kills the cat.

So slowly making step by step closer to the door Caleb peered down the side road running parallel along the line to get in. Beyond the opening at the end of the side street cars zoomed by one after the other in a hurry to get anywhere. He could smell the diesel fumes of garbage trucks and flatbeds in the air… it reminded him of his days in Europe from when he was young; a truly contaminating but unmistakable, poignant odor calling out once placid memories.

Everything else though, the buildings near him, seemed so still. As if they had no life or they were petrified in their blackness… but he knew there were lookers within them, life somewhere beyond that black, dark crust. He always knew someone was watching…. and just the same it never mattered.

Caleb observed the people before him. Wild hair-do’s, piercings from head to toe, tattoos in every place seeable…. and thankfully un-seeable. Conversations on cell phones that were made to look far more important than they probably, actually were. Pseudo-intellectuals rolling their eyes at their party’s comments while they flare back their multi-colored hair in laughter. His associates always asked him why he dabbled in such time-consuming and, what they called, “pedestrian” social experiments. But he never replied because he knew they’d never get it. He just raised his pipe to his mouth and raised his eyebrows in simple but un-uttered reply… and of course he smiled too.

As the line became shorter Caleb looked to the sky and squinted. He breathed deep and heavy through his nose almost as if to sense something –like a rattlesnake might with its tongue. In any case he just raised his eyebrows as before and smiled. Moments later a slight un-syncopated tapping noise began to rise like the clapping of a crowd before an orchestra. The ground began to come alive with small splashes of life and rain more and more immediately began to fall from the sky… and Caleb smiled again.

The line broke free like a panicked heard of cows running to seek cover from the falling sky. Worthless and fabricated screams rang out as they sought to cover their manufactured avatars from the element of life striking them down -perhaps righteously. But Caleb just stood still, solid in the falling rain with his pipe… that crooked grin still on his face.

As the crowd ran for cover, leaving their long waited place in line, he walked to the entrance of the club with a remarkably present sense of satisfaction on his face… puffing away, his dragon’s claw carved from stone.

Upon his final step to the gate the bouncer at the door raised his hand in common-place to stop Caleb not knowing who he was immediately. But as Caleb raised his head, his fedora hat revealing his face, the guard’s eyes soon became open and flat approaching almost fear. Caleb just clasped the bouncer’s hand with both of his own and said… “Looks like rain my friend… try and stay dry…” Caleb patted the sir on his shoulder, slightly nodded and walked on, careless, carefree, patient in the crowd, always a member to the frequent storm, but still known well on the inside, places dry and warm…

Tags: abstract, fiction, prose, story // 1 Comment »

A personal, journal entry first written on 10-17-2007 -Ed

Perhaps a terrible place to begin is as good as any; maybe even the best. As low as I feel I get the faintest sense that everything indeed feels just like it should. I don’t know if that makes me a martyr, pathetic or just in the right place at the right time despite the positive vs. negative nature of how things have unfolded.

There is an essence of relief, somewhat. Getting things out and out in the open. Perhaps the first step to having everything you want and need begins when there’s nothing hidden left… nowhere else to hide.

I knew it would end the way that it did… but I didn’t believe that it would. Maybe there’s a lesson to be learned there. That what we know is really just a supposition based on a probably outcome and that what we believe is our only way, our only chance to affect that probability. Since it appears that our ability to know is finitie but our ability to hope, to believe is infinite.

Sincerely,
J. Keys

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The Hero
By J. Keys

She couldn’t see
What I wanted to say
The words never left my mouth
Though her lips touched mine

The song still haunts me
It fell with me that night
As I fell asleep
The pain of her not being there

But the joy of knowing
That above all else
I had in a moment or more
…known her

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Engraved Silence
By J. Keys

He moves like the dark, you know. Like that way in which the daylight is fleeting and escapes almost without us even realizing it. While we are too busy, he moves. He has this meticulous and almost invisible nature about his presence. And he never hurries, he just seems to glide with surety like a breeze that moves over the water in a lake –all you see is the momentary ripple before its force brushes over your face as you wonder where it came from as much as where it went. He walks without the fear that we feel and with a terrifying destiny in his step. Being in his path isn’t the problem, being at the end of that path is…well, like the dark.

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Forced
By J. Keys

What a slanted day I faced
Bright then dark
Warm then cold

And this thing
This shooting rod
Beneath my atlas hold
Worse than the weight
Like a test or a crucifix
I felt it
But I kept it held
Beneath my atlas hold

So through the day
The sky
And the rain
I wondered and remembered
Of what I really wanted
Of what I maybe lost
Back there… somewhere

And I miss that place
Those places
Where I could hear nothing
Where I could hear everything
The cold sentry at the back gate
The warm empty open at the shore

Yes they were different
But they were both places I could go
Places I could be
Places that I was
Where there was nothing
Where there was everything

I think today though
Far from those cliffs
Where God’s whispers flow
For the first time
I didn’t just ask for something
I discovered what I need
Idle under the weight
Forced by the pain
Within a slanted day
For the first time

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“You know you can spend a lot of your life trying to avoid the storm and it won’t do you one bit of good. The storm will wait or it will find you… so just go. Wherever it is, whatever the time… just go. Because you’ll never be that smart or that quick and the storm only wins when you hide away from it.” - J. Keys

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