Monday, April 25, 2011
A starburst of red on the surface of bedding; a comforting pillow in any dark hour. Then below and behind, the gem of opulence, a purity of breath in crystalline cavity, spilling forth the spores to which no lover has ever had allergy or aversion.
Would that this be his air to breathe, his face may strain in purples for savouring, or reds for indulgence; either way, immersion, deep and true, and the balance to be had, will find itself stable, without prolonging nor undue effort.
Should that our selves shift out of phase with immediate surroundings, and blend into each other's; respective particles finding those - so foreign, yet familiar - "empty" spaces, to hook behind; cohabitate and create; a brand new manifestation of the universal force; that which we shall call the We.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
For a million minds pull forth on the string, connecting us all in a web on three axes. Would the spider think of gems on the vine, that intersect it's cross-stitch and pretend to prismatic dew, or seaspray on invisible lines?
Nocturnal now; crepuscular; stalking his prey: a dream to be had and thoughts to be chased, but chaste no longer in his thirst for sating. She bends in willing acceptance, as tree bows to wind; the flickering sparkle of rhinestones and diamonds, only proven to the expert eye, or the testing of pressure; in the flames of a sun.
Her dew is fresh and welling beside; the scent on the air, floats into the night; a baited hook to pull him in, her ears turn about in said direction, heart palpable and strong, excited yet anxious, as steam rises from chest and flush, forgetting to think; his breath is upon her.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
When the sublimating sun sinks in seclusion; when the cavernous empty emanates warmth, from the fusion of flames; when the night comes strong, with grasping clenches; pulling life forth, dissolving in emerald & gold.
The disconcerted few confused; revelled not reviled, wonder mystified and wanderously in the midst of hue; a colour transient, prismatic & spellbound; knowing not which axes are which, but a force from every direction, guiding hands to the caress of every action.
Within a realised home, the sinking sands, withering words, usurped by the glow of generous giving; of soul & mind, body & being. It does us well to reach within ourselves, and pull forth the light that dwells within; the gem of our essence, in brilliance.
Friday, April 22, 2011
From this; valid, opines to Earth, to dine on; to drink; to soak her in, absorbing through epidermis and subcutaneous, deep into bone; yet in this there is but blood and tissue. The facets of favours, in fortunes fallow, lay waste to seedlessness, on the scales of entropy.
Was it not the lay, when we first touched sight; an obstinate abstinence from pulmonary lines, divining the knowledge, preconceived & pronounced; the invisible pull; the tug on a twig of the tree of life, yet that which therein holds the genome of destiny.
When separated by ecstasy, in an island of consciousness, forever encircled in the city of light; the fervor of the forsaken, taken and whole; now encased in an elemental dream.
Thursday, April 21, 2011
There is a fever found in fortune favoured, of an eye looking inward, exploring landscapes of endless insight; at once both myopic for the immediate, yet open to the eternal; discovered, unearthed in a deluge of dreams, this is the place visited in somnolence.
Would that this be a dimension unseen, yet to be proven by scientific method, when all things are possible, probable in an infinite universe, just one in a multiverse, and itself but a microcosm.
This search for Oneness, spurs him on; imagination a wild stallion, aethereal and untamed, fire in his eyes & a ghostly mane; signify lust, a thirst for all, but above the rest - truth - for herein lies the base definition; to oneself, forever & faithful.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Diluted in finery, the ends of an heir, approbation & circumstance, this; smoking mirrors, forged in fires of furnaced fervor; those diamondine eyes, trading in truth, lit golden with gleam, in which reflect, the world & all within.
Give me quark or lepton, he cries, to a voice soft inside, borne of a dream. Asphalt is the saviour of unbroken lovers, whose ground unfurls before them; rivulets of steel, where the towering ecstasy of extra-bodied embraces enrapture their eyes, in subjective audiences.
A bridge flanked by beauty, crossed & divided, intersecting souls which meet in the middle; the source of potential; summoning impossible dreams into being, when there is no "can't" for "can"s. This can be seen in the heart of an eye, trumped by that, in the eye of a heart.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
It is the glistening fountain of breathtaking flower, or butterfly, spread for beauty, displayed & admired, absorbed & inhaled, caressed with eyes, mind & tongue, but what lies beyond; that mystery ancient, yet known now, a reminder demands, and slips into shape & form of the glove, fitting & fluid; the legacy of man; the lust of an age.
Immersed & embraced; shipwrecked & drowned; spacetime is bent, to the will of the wild; animals still, instinctive & present, yet entirely phased; the echoes of breaths.
A pull at her ears; a tug on her tail; a bite at her neck, with wind all the while, dispersing in place, in memory, mind; the presence to ecstasy; in one of one's kind.
Monday, April 18, 2011
An echo true, as virtue sings, silver lined pipes that carry him in, smooth and soft, and caressed all the while.
Instead, life milk, to thoughts unawares, and the corporeal receptor, in throws of humanity; an island of missing, to that which is but, yet an absence of commotion, in the calm of chaos.
"Silk!" she screams silently with the drive of her body, ivory hues in painted night; soft as revealed, the intrinsicance of furore and blood-warmed skin. Oh how it melts in the radiant heat; between that to which the clear scented, bleeds from within.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Scent on the air lifted, lilted, washed away, sounds drowned in ink surrounds, as breath drawn warm was held, the stars exploded.
He took a handful and threw them into the air to fall where they may. All matter passing through this starfield did pull them hither, tracking, dispersing, leaving traces in other spheres, alternate dimensions, warm, seen, and unseen.
Supreme: the mirrored star, silvered between fingers, separating; two from one; and as before; a noted frequency, in ten thousand orbits, lost once again, in wistfulness of, one from two.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Electro and chromo; the weak and the strong, unifying space with time, electricity with magnetism, this abstract mathematical symmetry: the gauge.
Would this never be true of a being, experiencing existence in iniquity, but falling to earth; the harsh tones of hurt. For all the light blocked by necessary black, absorbing that which otherwise illuminates; yet a star will always outshine.
A cave once discovered is found anew, enjoyed for a time: reflection, shields, and dressing; drawn swords, shields, and wounds; to fix that which faltered, to reign in the wind; to rope in the wild; reminding, affirming, truisms of ages, but one: as tools to weapons, for intent, or for use; the converse is always true.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Where do we play; abbreviating the night; it's patches asunder, and subjects kowtowing to inky surrounds and monarchistic figureheads, hung by the sky, under chandelier tears; the shards of the ages.
As children with wisdom, nefarious never, long drawn from the depths of majestic succinctity, the entreats of entropy, serendipitous, flawless, a lacking of none, when deserving all ways, of smiles in kinship & sighs of contentment.
A city of angels, as tears to my eyes, indulging in awe; the countenance of earth.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Approaching the mid point, to this, our hour; chancing to daydream, disassemble, devour; separations of stone, marbled and true; mirrored souls in smooth, doubled, magnetic, in whole & in virtue.
Leptons, neutrinos, muons & tau, what lies beyond, the dendrochronology of he, borne solid of waist, and years bore the backbone; fragility, grace, when circumstance contrived to bellow his name, a pseudonym true; devilicious desire.
Gazing at brushstrokes, each bristle in finest, the fractions so fair, to be washed on the shorelines of consciousness sure. Enjoy them now, while the shadow in hiding, absorbs the most fierce of fantasy fare; yet without a wish, she brings them together, longing for sunlight, unadmitted to self, but known so well, in spaces; hers, deep.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
When the sky has been painted, by accident consequence, in bluest of clouds, yet the great bronze beyond, sings to the wave particles, that carry their glory, and with it, the world's desire.
His head is weary, where heart hides a hole, once filled with the wonder of satellites, strawberries; grown from the pillow of the chest laid upon, milked cream lines the throat, in severance, sated, and swallows him down.
Re-normalised now, in quantum field theory, countering the shortfall, when approaching infinity. What probability greater than one, can ever be faithful, & fit the finiteness of limited scope, with scale of mind, and sheen of skin, when safe in the knowledge of the truest of truths, that the infinite endless has always been.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
With a half spin qualifier, disturbing in least, the confines of the beasts, named self-consciousness, guilt, fear & doubt; all needing to be tamed, phantasmal they; with which your hands can never grasp, but your spirit & fortitude, and strength of age, overcome, and never undone, or seek to ravel the knots.
Up & down, charmed & strange, top & bottom, we're all the same. Your neutrality scored along the edges of imaginings. We crack the seal, let knowledge flow forth, shaping, colloidally, filling the empty of every effusive file, and pondering: when, at which point, and how, a dent does progress to be deemed a hole.
But moreover a whole; mutualists in pedagogs, abstractions of randoms, in phantasmal botanicals; the deep blue of night that never turns black and carries us sweetly, as we forget our forge forward in unforeseen fantasy.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Unfolded sail dreams disturbed the air, rippling in poetics, the lightest of sails; prismatic at best, graceful at least, but no wings are needed for him in this space.
"Will I endure another Winter post this?" he once dreamt. "Will the warmth ever fade or free me from fortresses, never feigned or fallowed, or will I remain the indomitable inmate incarcerate; alive in captivity; forever infallible?"
Aloft in the aether, the feather of fortune, floats downward in zig-zagging arcs. The afterglow & strobe, and the bronze sky beseeched, in a wand of forgiveness, with trees matching hue; and none the same, every single dream came, with a folded crane companion of true.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
In this he would never harm, for I have never a need to contribute but a drop to the pool that persists. Wither, without, and though life feeds on life, as naturally as the horizon holds captive the rainbow band beneath blue; harm must be purposeful, respectful, and never enjoyed, yet pleasure is taken in justice served, when it is dished onto fair plate; subjective & true.
Does it design to confuse when mixing "he" with "I"? Where there is consensus; we hope this embroils, entangles & strangles, the thresholds of yore; honesty, purpose & jealousy, each all in their respective grandeurs.
While figuring the scent of a thousand drawn flowers, sketched each with the half thought of him still in mind. A sadness & longing, opacity & belonging; where drag pulls asunder, the hearth once yearned for, and the never never has never, felt so very far away.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
The racing of mind, beyond the sublime, felicitous findings forever in fact; as dissolute, disparate dogs drunk on dishwater; with all that is washed away, emerges purity & semblance of order, for a time.
Where does a mind take one, during fall into genius; to clarity borne; a thousand distinct thoughts lay upon us in plague; to waste but a few in pursuit of the sway; this is par & yardstick, for the consciousness' descent into dreams.
Pondering languidly, the switching of brains, between infants of human & cetus alike; wondering would this, evidence that purported; intelligence of whale, to language and commune, to friend & to foeship, to love and to lust?
Friday, April 8, 2011
Post-elation, feet now sink into the rock on which he only appears to stand, but for every intent he is not all there; a facsimile of some long-lost ghost, to be sure.
How he sees through mountains, dimensions, colours, absorbing diamonds and stones; amazed simplicity in the vastness of the empty spaces; chasms between atoms; those that allow one to merge matter with same, unhinging, displacing, loosening and out of phase; the sub-atomic velcro that shatters the silence with every tear.
Were the elements born in the dreams of men, not of hocus pocus, yet as magic to the untrained eye; the unenlightened mind. These are foreign thoughts, as unseen this, and more beyond, herein is the essence of miracles.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Where there is water, life is not far away; evidenced by dull patches of greenery; the flora that has climbed so high to see, or has held on since such ancient times that it has known the mountain when it was just ground, and risen at such a rate one would term an eternity
Would that it have been once marsh, wold, or forest, it matters not now, because that is past, and forward is the pinnacle of being, climbing ever-skyward, and distant clouds remember their relatives - the receding seas - the ice floats and glaciers, and even those unseen cousins, hanging on the air.
In a moment's digression, disparate dispersion, he returns to thought, having shared all with the One who he knows no bounds for. On this mountain, in this place, of this moment. This is where I have been for as long as I've been writing these words.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
For the memory; beginning with a vagueism, the thought of somewhere cool, a breeze of slight, but sunny between mountains spaced so far apart to haze. High enough to feel atmospherical changes, rarefied and dressed so warmly, but not so out of contact with the environment, faces bare, and hands forever same. Yet in this form it matters not.
With a long glance, travelling the view, in all directions, forgetting for an extended moment how he arrived, but happy to be here; happy to be. And with all this in front, eyes are closed, and the picture remains, but hazed further by memory, slowly soaking into the mind, mixing with more distant memories; the reality of this most recent experience, slipping with every particle of thought, until osmosis draws it fully into archive and sight gives way to the other senses; further palettes to memory. The resultant colours are those which are tasted, inhaled and heard.
There is something so beautiful contained in the warmth of a sunlit face, yet the air, surrounds, may be bitingly cold, were it not for the protection that the light brings, and what the shade foregoes. There is little to be heard out here, away from everything known in days. Even the birds are silent, no songs are sung, for they too are enjoying the tranquillity, respectful, at peace.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
So where to land; or should there be a destination; but to just savour the joy of sailing through storm clouds, into the milieu, then back above for contrast to where the Sun shines without pause nor care for surface events, where another world below soaks all under its wing.
Here is where we are cleansed; our doubt and hangups removed for purity, which is never far from our grasp, should we remember to look for it. Amidst the discharge, electrons find their way to ground, pressurized, speeding, cutting through unnatural night; ephemeral in its totality, but commanding all and forever in those moments.
Do we fly beneath the cover, and bear witness to the dark majesty of rain, as it throws the wind about, and us as a consequence; or do we choose the sunlight and ease of bliss, outside of the weathering ring. This is not a question but merely a matter for destiny, and as it draws on our minds, we slip into thought; for her, new and deep.
Monday, April 4, 2011
And onwards through the space at its edge, circling the sphere, within the glare of glistening oceans below; the reflection of light so full and engrossing; this water world of wonder; our base, our womb. Unique to the inhabitants, in the safety of our bubble, yet just one of an infinite soda, in a race to the surface.
The beauty of sand, filtered and formed, manipulated to light-bending solid and otherwise invisible, holding that liquid but not containing it, for escapist ideas can never be held long, and seek the path of greatest freedom; a digression in imagery for love of simplicity, and all that is sweet, inherent and hinted at, contained within such limited walls, yet limitless perspective, from the ogive displacement, is enough to satisfy those curious eyes.
Can one think of the place most desired in this moment; but yes, it is there in mind. When granted reprieve to the elevation and sink, to where gravity once again pulls at the iron in his blood, the draw is active, and relativity tested, for the spin which holds all, welcomes him home, to rest himself true, and lay his head against her breast once more.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
In an arc of swooped song, he rose to level, just a touch from the surface, dilating in slight, wavering motion, but no turbulence here; smooth and delicate, protracted angles, then on, up, & into, such height to eschew visibility to all.
Skywards through atmosphere, thinning, replaced, to face the vacuum of awe and wonder, with Everything at hand, and Oneness in mind. This is where we are born.
Floating. Weightless. Contemplating the stars. Our hydrogen Sun; perennially fusing and self-perpetuating. Limitless in the scope of a human lifetime. The full vista of Earth, which from the dust of said stars come before. At this elevation, for him alone, and with a single eye; taking the entire world and holding all, in his hand.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
By choice, he fell, over softening florets of pounamu; through a haze in hue not unlike the veins of the bluest, most intricately canalled cheese, but instead, a transparent scent - that of ancient rocks - and the air whistled through, filling his nostrils, awakening every hair and surface; the tunnels that line, to cool thoughts, internal eternal, swirling mixed emotion and memory.
The Earth's floor approached, with detail increased, to scale, a hastened descent and accelerated heartrate, through no part of fear, but absorption of life; a quickening of blood, and drilling down through cells, past the visible, into quantum, wherein that point; the space that occupies so elementary a punctual particle.
But virtue through, and no reason of mind, in all that encompassed, was at its core; purity. From this well never could spring forth imbalance - not one that was for worse - not here, where only photons emanated, and yet those duality waves that outsped the light, and flowed faster than thought; those tachyons of destiny; known before, and echoing forever after; confusing perception of those without knowing, yet; passing within the breath of an eternal instant.
Friday, April 1, 2011
He walked in a dream, to the precipice, overlooking the canopy; emeralds, nephrite & bowenite laid out; flanked by walls of ancient earth, once surfaced, now & long-since layered, natural circuitboards of interdependent communities; microcosms under the dome of eternal azure.
Crisp and cold, embedded in breath, skeletal trees spake sentences sweet, of love lost with ages, but surfaced in green, still deep within the veins of ore, blood and sap; the lifeblood of wanting & delicate balance, magnetic & true.
Without loosening to thought or engaging pause to consider, he strode in silence; wonder muted by the music spread before him, and with head & eyes filled with the ozone of purity, in heady delight he stepped over the edge. With never a whisper of doubt.