to wander
The letter fell from his red notebook as he descended from the tree house. what ever made him think that a place that was heaven would exist after the smoke cleared and the ground firmed up to walk on. The barbed wire surrounding the forbidden zone was trampled and over taken by vines making it almost invisable except to those that walked bare footed or with thin souls. The on coming storm rocked the tree that stood solo in the marsh and as he stepped off the landing onto the boat he didn't see the piece of paper rustle next to the dead bird carcass in the weeds. He poled away and headed towards the light of the colony. The paper was blown against the tree and eyed by a wren looking for nesting material, now clutched in its beak it was seated in the fecal matter bonding the twine, twigs and vine together. Seasons later a sprout from anexpelled seed took hold of the paper and used it's protection to grow into a vine. The vine spread, suffocating the tree of all its nutrition and leaving it to float in the winds movements of the lagoon. The voices called out "This will do" as an arrow pierced the vine into the trunk and a rope pulled the rotting tree towards the colony. The 15 towns folks took turns binding the body with the twine on to the log and setting it back afloat with the dead man's red weathered notebook tied tightly to his side. In the darkness of the camp the elders whispered, if the notice had served to him why didn't he go to the corps instead of ignoring it and being banished til death?
My head, colors that form a pool of grey that little silver lines form into geometric shapes. Careful so as not to stir the memories of happy suicide thought they don't form anything that look like knife blades. The lines travel out of the pool and the light starts to seperate them and as they slit little droplets fall and the ones that hit the stem of light open and oozze small brilliant streams of colors. Colors that form a pool of grey that little silver lines form into geometric shapes.
As the sun ran from the sky a gray mist joined the darkness. Mingling and treading on all that exist in and out of the humans minds. The lone sleeper saw the happening and watched as the two entities met, then touched, fondling and finally grasping each other so tight that the dark and mist started to smolder in their own embrace burning each other so intensly that the spark of their community gave birth to light that destroyed them both, until the day wore on so long that it burned itself out to leave a blackness and smoke that became mist.
The morning came late that day, the sun had distributed its energies over the globe and was almost depleted when he rose out of bed. As he arranged himself he wondered what day of the week it was and laid on top of the bedspread. Hours later he opened his eyes and saw the room was filled with darkness and the glimmer of the TV set shown on his unwashed face. He rubbed his eyes and realized there was a half empty cup of coffee beside him and he felt the void of time wallow up in his stomach. Did he forget what his waking hour had consisted of again, no need to ask the darkness and the cold coffee beside the chair answered him with a forceful silence? Somewhere there was a stirring out side the room but as he entered the kitchen the white noise in his head increased. The stillness in the house was maddening. He tried repeatedly to pound onto the worn counter his fist clenched but the small lifeless thud answered his frustration with its mocking laugh: “Nothing Extreme, Nothing Intense, Nothing For No One, No”. The void over whelmed him and as he cried out he awoke himself in the queen sized bed that contained only him. A fly had entered the room and he wondered if the speed it was traveling could be duplicated by him, a fold in the bedspread rubbing his forearm woke him once again. Later the lose of time repeated itself and as he move from the chair to the kitchen he fell against the doorway and was awaken by a bright light, the fear that would have engulfed him was overpowered by the stirring of his mind, something was familiar, something was powerful about this he pushed against the frame and was amazed to the point of breathless anticipation when he saw another room with a person, someone like him rushing towards him. “Shit what happened, Christ I cant deal with this, This falsehood is coming apart at the seems, God Forgive me!” Were these loud sound coming from that form that was approaching him, are there others, why is this not unfamiliar I've never seen this before? The questions penetrated his every move and thought. “I quit! I cant be apart of this lie. You were the President of The United States and now they have locked you away, training you to be nonresponsive! You were shot and the world mourned your passing but they couldn't have you shown as a cripple. The world would never look at a country that accepted a crippled leader, they have drugged you for over 50 years and I am one of you guardians! Am I making sense, you have been robbed of your senses by the gases they feed to you cells! You should have died but you didn't, you regenerated and learned to walk, You should have fucking died! The figure fell to the ground, a brilliant red bubbling river cascaded out of his temple. What is this figure that was so loud and disturbing? What is the sounds and the lights I see what will I do when.... He awoke because the pillow had slide from his head, the dullness of the room seemed somehow comforting, feeling nothing he then found himself rising from the chair and walking to the sink in the kitchen.
Times filtering lens
Broken glass has become a mosaic
Blood is a calming chardonnay
Drowning feeds the thirst
And fire becomes warm and comforting
Like a flatulent in the elevator
The sensation goes and turns into humor
The chrome is marred
And it looks calm and inviting
The iron is rusted
Corroding to its dusty demise
And that's what we gaze upon with warm and glowing eyes
As the glistening novelties die before our eyes
A comfortable shade
A deep rich tone
Time has digested all that was new
Right Now is all we've been given
Yesterdays over and the hind sight is skewed
Feel what is here, breath your current breath
Tomorrow, its not the same neither feared or glorified
Tomorrow is not a given, the plantings of yesterday are today's feast
Build your base to stand on today then the steady will be sound