Wednesday, May 23, 2012

On The Wing

Sometimes in the middle of outer space you hear musical fantasties and orchestras of gods and their lyres and harps and pianos. I swear they are beautiful. They are magicians of truth. Wherever I am I love you. In the warm lights of the european sky in the future sunsets and morning hour births. In the forest, there are crystal lanterns of solid white. They bleed silver onto the platters beneathe them where the mineral fortune is returned to it's original myth, where no one can venture on whim and succeed in finding the life they sought when they first looking at the dusty map and said, "Hell, let's go." This is what I mean. When the stars fly by your window at the break of dawn, watch the birds. They know breath in that moment. But when did we call ourselves creator of the calendar. We are time. I am ticking - tocking - ticking - tock - tick - tock - tick - tock...
I am made of color. I am wild like the daisies in our field, white and yellow and bold with substance. Where can I breathe? In the waterfalls of Egypt. Yes, where Columbus desired to visit, but repressed his desires for the sake of the new world. World. World. Where does that word come's beautiful. And then I'd jump and fight the air to hover there. The sound waves our ears receive have space between them where there exists color that our ears, once focused and instructed by the mind, hear in the sound of an orchestra playing a beautiful symphony, coherent and good. Burst at the seems, Life. I need you. I promise I need you. Where are the corners of the universe? Does it extend into a forever lightning bolt of stars? Crazy about that. I am. But I feel every particle of those plants. Make me an object of grandeur that will unify the poles - when the north and the south collapse together and create a black hole. I'll wait. I promise. Who can ever comprehend the complexity of mathematics? Algebra, freaking Isaac Newton and his damn calculus. Can you spend an eternity in the thermometer's bowl? Would it not be an ocean of the universe, Mercury? I see connections. Don't tell me I can't create a word. I can make a dictionary. Watch how my lexicography skills have beeen...That's not going anywhere. So look. I am going to leave you now. It's time. You always said it was time. 

I love you dearly. I wish you all the very best in life. I am going to go visit my chair and change my mind. Feel free to enjoy yourself.


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