Quotes from Light years, James Salter

We were moderate, we will never know what it is to spill out our lives. . .

She can’t walk very well. She limps. . . she can never dance. That’s why the real grace, the real music is in her.

Life is weather. Life is meals.

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From Light years

There is no complete life. There are only fragments. We are born to have nothing, to have it pour through our hands. And yet this pouring, this flood of encounters, struggles, dreams… one must be unthinking, like a tortoise. One must be resolute, blind. For whatever we do, even whatever we do not do prevents us from doing the opposite. Acts demolish their alternatives, that is the paradox. So that life is a matter of choices, each one final and of little consequence, like dropping stones into the sea.
Light years, James Salter

From Light years

There is no complete life. There are only fragments. We are born to have nothing, to have it pour through our hands. And yet this pouring, this flood of encounters, struggles, dreams… one must be unthinking, like a tortoise. One must be resolute, blind. For whatever we do, even whatever we do not do prevents us from doing the opposite. Acts demolish their alternatives, that is the paradox. So that life is a matter of choices, each one final and of little consequence, like dropping stones into the sea.
Light years, James Salter

A pea

Green and with buttery cheeks, a pea
Found its way into the sea
From being food in the aviaries
Being the greenest of the vagaries
Smoothest of the pearls
To being a pointless point
A total stranger and the silliest being
Insoluble, uncomfortable, incorrigible fellow
That won’t decay
That won’t go away
That still has no purpose
In a land, actually no land
In waters never seen before
Grand and furious
Bland and secretive
Tired and spurious
With memories and laughter
Largely denied
Insanely wise stars
Battles of sharks
How does a pea find oysters
How does it regain its name
Of the green pearl
The greenest one
In the sea startlingly green
Lost without losing any sheen
image

He is broken eyes but can feel

He is broken eyes
Much below the skies
Patches on his arms
Scrapes the skin that touches
Stands alone in the pathway
Where they’re felling the branches
Shedding the ugly traces
Off the shelters of kids
Off the homes of divine
Children prick at its skin
Scratching the ugly burns
Draining the dew
Screeching the scales
Off
Grabbing the sunny ale
Leaving him dry
Simply so sly
Watering no blot
He is broken eyes
Amid dust, heat and rust
Grabs the arms
Of those around
Embraces quickly
Those that are unkind
Those that are kind
‘Cause he is broken eyes
All good ones are
Light in the dark
Light all day
For that touch
Palpus in the rough
Sweetened ties
He is broken eyes
But can feel

It’s not some

It’s not some
Or slight
Of hope
It’s a lot
If it at all is
Amidst dust
Heat and chills
Amidst headaches
Fits and craze
It’s not some
Or even slight
Of hope
It’s bloody abundant
Plenty and plateful
If I’ve felt the hunger for
Flowing and streaming
If I’ve felt the thirst for
It isn’t despondency
It isn’t brokenness
Or even despair
Not even on the worst of days
It’s not some
Or even slight
Of hope
Shattering all brokenness
It’s tenacious ice
And heat doesn’t last here
Something helps its way out
It’s not green
Not even purple
It’s the shade
Hard to find
Anywhere else
Anywhere where
There’s no kindness
And lack of honesty
It’s not some
Or slight
Of hope
That gets in the way
Of all that hurts
And keeps hurting
It’s boisterous
But that’s swayed easily
By my moves
Here and there
Where there’s more
Than one could dream of
Hope

Was it just a dream

Was it cloud
Flying
Was it rainbow
Dying
Was it just a dream
That took no time to forget
To shun, undone
Was it just an old memory
Or was it a boring poem in the class
That could not be remembered
So vibrant the vibes
So unclear the motives
As if it was yesterday
And it took a moment
To close the chapters swiftly
So hard but it felt
Was it sand in my fist
That ran away
Or my mindfulness
That didn’t let it go
The remains survive
Memories dive
Was it long lost class nine
Or an introduction
To another course
That’s going to earn an era
Where does it lie
Behind the earlobe
Or between the toes
Was it lost
Or purposefully thrown
Into the flowing water
Only to come back
Chiding a reminder
That I’m hard to make now
Was it not sincere
That I can’t make even fun of
How sad that it died
A part of me so secured
A part that mattered years