What to say
In times of silence, Our dreams all crumble and froth. We burn our wings for a chance to sing the lesson of the moth. Where spirit is kept underneath the shade Of our longing shadows edge, This contempt for hallows, Pray indusiatus Phallus, Our depth we strive to hedge. O what to say in times of silence, For what is to be got? When all was wrought, Has now rot, And I myself feel not.
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How can this be?
A truth that is not me, A me that is not we, A we that is not thee. How can this be? A sun that is not one, A one that is not done, A sum of only some. For what shall i cry? For whom shall i die? For where could this be, if here we cannot see? Ahhh, the place far above, Pillowy clouds, majestic doves, In a sky that dwarfs the sea. A this that is not love, Without hand, a forlorn glove, On bended leg, distressed I beg, How can this be? How? a space fills the form
subtle storm black paths that the winds blown over there's a way unseen within the veil, without the screen that slaloms through bones and dirt sailing off now, fingers through and through twirling my hair in the eye of what is and what is what is? broken twigs? ocean mist? omen fits with open fist? the birds will never say. fleeting i saw something
when the outdoors inhaled reversing-counter the breeze from under the door and it is this on edge of ledge in the first second of falling before you notice its bad muscles around the mouth wave with an unwavering loftiness these letters on my piano are for playing out a happiness that hurts for feeling home in discomfort and then im here and then where was i before? with that i rest with things behind the sun I sit to write and nothing comes.
A nothing that I can say nothing about and leave it happily. It leaves me so happy I have nothing to write about. The hurt elephant treads sluggishly and gets left behind,
A piggie vies for teet-position but is outmuscled at every turn, After a good thrashing about, the small coi gets its meal taken from its lips, A wallop, a shriek, a tear, a sulk. The elephant enjoys peaceful solitude, Tended less means increased patience and self-reliance, Bruised muscles and pride make one tough yet actively passive, like water. fuzzy green
an illuminated yellow flower from ground view a yellow flower close-up with the outline of tall unfocused pine trees in the backdrop before the backdrop is a standing man in faded color the standing man is holding up a baby to the sky eclipsing the sun the rays shoot out from behind the baby the flower, man, baby, and sun make up the contents of an old photograph a picture on a dashboard a water drop falling towards the steering wheel an old man is weeping in the driver's seat, his wrinkled hands upon his pale face, his lips turned in anguish it is night time, he is alone the maroon sedan sits in an alley way where it is raining the alley way lies downtown a cityscape with a dark purple sky, lightening striking the view of the city is on a television screen in front of the television is a family of four on the couch they are eating tv dinners, ripping through their chicken legs as a bucket rests on the countertop the household is pictured on a billboard it is an advertisement, however most of the words have been etched out the worn billboard has been spray painted on with the caption reading in green,"never again" the billboard is surrounded by trees and has many vines growing around its edges the billboard has been engulfed by jungle forest trees before the billboard is an open grass field with patches of high standing wild rye a group of friends - faces painted, some with shirts off, others with feathers and flowers in their hair - sitting in a circle, drumming, smiling, laughing, dancing, and hugging in the field dancing and hugging in a thought bubble of a young man sitting at his desk If a spider bites me while I'm up in a tree,
and and I get infected with no antiseptic, If while flying to Brazil my plane's engines stop, and we ram into a mountain..kerrplop! If I go running and an automobile swerves, flips, spins ,and jumps the curb, and crushes my body impaling me into the turf, If while swimming in the ocean a shark takes a bite, despite my protective sun-block lotion, during rip tide, and I'm half eaten, with organs secretin', and swallowed by Poisedon's tongue, maimed, pulled under, and swept under the sandy rug, If a beggar whom I let into my home to feed and clothe, decides he might murder me and shove me into the stove, If while dancing in the bath tub, I slip and crack my head, If while flying a kite, lightening strikes me dead, If im on vacation in range of a suicide bomber, If while taking a nap i get eaten by jeffery dommer, If i get cancer in my heart or an aneurism in my brain, If i get caught by a bear trap and cannot break its chain, If i get lost in the andes with no food or water, If while building a home I trip into a wood chopper, If the mushrooms I eat are poisonous, If I suffocate in a casket, or If I chew too fast and choke on a turkey sandwich. it wont really matter much it was all just a game anyway a simple postponement, like a rain delay If something happens today to bring about this life's end tomorrow ill come out to play again. I looked up at life once,
when I was all but seven. My eyes from the ground gaping upwards, through their own brackish tears, locked with its madly fanatical, fervent glare, as it kicked me repeatedly in my ribs. Another time I heard it coming from a child's mouth saying, "I love you" Its panorama is of immeasurable measure ranging in incalculable degrees, it completes a sort of boundless sphere, and I am but turning in the middle. at least that is how I feel sometimes. but what of life can I make that isn't subject to that moment in it? inside dimension
re-figuring perspective in the most objective way steps are inside out ambiguous geometry in straight lines and right angles time/space/something I can't explain where is this? push-pull the "it" in "it's raining" the words all fall but the question mark always remains an all-absorbing projection of sensitive numbness the door may not lead to its room vibrationglowpulse standing on heads, we imagine, if we were there unity=combining 2 of 1 in remembrance that there wasn't any 2 to begin with |
Heart of Cosmos | heart of cosmos |