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Gone Is The Moment by Charles Hamouth


 
i wanted it...my God i wanted it
 
...but how do you do that...
 
                                        
 
                                                             HOW!
 
the second you touch it...
 
 
 
                                                                                it's gone.
 
it's the curse of being alive.                  After all what are we?
 
 
                   a bundle of thin blue wires...some red tubing
 
small burgundy lines
 
our largest organ is our skin...What are we?
 
           our brains are unreliable...our emotions uncontrollable.
 
you want to grab it...hold it...
 
good luck!        it's a lubricated bar of soap, you can't hold 
 
i've tried...my life has been nothing but trying to hold on to it.
 
 
how can you be in it?   how? if you can't even hold it...
 
i feel like an astronaut 
 
                      moving aimlessly in space with no tether!
 
 
 
love would be my first choice.
 
 
 
                   when i delivered both my daughters at home
 
pulled them out carefully from their mothers womb...Gone!
 
 
                           their lives from one year old to know...Gone!
 
 
 
 
 
 
women...oh how i have loved...made love
 
                                        i have several doctorates in love making
 
women are like butter to me...
 
i hold them more carefully 
             than i do an over bloomed flower
                                          not to lose a single petal.
i refuse to breathe 
                  just to hold their scent 
                                                 as long i can
                                                         in the caress of my love...i do.
 
treasure their face...
                 die in the act of a single kiss
                                                       my God, their lips                
                                                                   dress myself in their skin.
 
 
still
   it can't be done
          as soon as it happens
                                                it is gone
                                                         absolutely  
                                                                            gone!
 
you can't live there        
                 it is like Brigadoon.     
                               you'll never find it again.
 
 
you can't really live in the moment              
 
not really
 
it is gone as you live it...
 
the present, is immediately...the past
 
it is fleeting             
 
never to be held
 
                         i know...
                               i want so many moments back...
                                                                       just to live in them.
                                                                                      you can't...you don't.
 
we live what was...
 
dream of what might be.
 
live in the moment? 
 
as my words hit the page...the moments passed.  
 
in the moment? 
 
yes! i know i've been there
 
i just can't hold it. 
 
                      the smell of the ocean...
                                it's loud heavy metal music...
                                               the meandering haze in the air
                                                              that "i am invincible feeling"
 
 
the first time you held her...
 
my one true love now gone
 
                     
                     the chiseled pillow look of clouds 
                                                          looking down at you
                                                                     as if you were the one.
 
that huge neon moon...
 
sits low in its living room
 
a baby breeze 
 
touches lightly your breath...
 
 
 
                                 a gripping moment 
                                                 of unconscious union
                                                                     moments galore...
 
 
in the moment?
 
 i've tried!
 
it's always left as it happens. 
 
gone quicker than lived
 
and than 
 
only imagined.
 
 
 
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Charles Hamouth

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