Do you taste like beer Stella, does your last name happen to be Artios?
“I guess dirt is a good foundation for Green”
– Grace, On what comes before
Do not underestimate the power
of letting a fellow traveler
examine closely your thoughts;
the exchange of words in the old fashion.
Speak beautifully, construct the response,
and fear not being misunderstood.
The travel of two is always a blessing
to the journey — Like a fixed star,
these moments gift to your voice
some sort of guide along the road — Something to bounce ideas off of even if they don’t come back right away. Internally, perspective stirs the concepts, it stokes the flame; feeding it when you thought you might be on your last log
Share the tastes, and pangs of life.
Even if it is dirt, you can both agree on that.
And what’s more, when it isn’t dirt…
you’ve both got something of a shared celebration!
Love, me lights out,
Burn the sky down
Love, me lights out,
Burn the sky down
Lure me back with waves
Pull me deep beneath the shades;
I think I’m below
Your neck is the road
Lull me you’re the eye,
Rati your sweet lips;
Oshun I beg for a drink!
Tales of the banquet–I’m drunk all over again
I’m there all one again,
The first moon, the last full notebook
I’ve been reading your words,
And after all the pages,
Only the last virgin remains.
Imagine the last time I’ll be surprised at what you say
I don’t want to listen, what if I’m swayed,
at the end, with no more words to decide against.
Take me on a way,
Lay me down at sea!
What vastness will I be
I’ chose you and you’re gone, and that’s ironic and cliche for a song
To be expanded
Feeling like a computer attempting to execute the commands, but something in the logic is stickingxxch
The question is not whether the ship can be saved, there is no confusion around this truth.
What we are here to determine is what of the ship should have an effort made in its case.
Of all the good, and the bad, what will best serve the survived in the years after descent.
Would the lungs make the list if they weren’t intrinsic to the body?
Perhaps only what, by chance, climbs up on the sands nearby.
I think we can agree all of the collections hard earned, are perfect for the rite– A burning. Quick set the flames before any other decision is made. No moment to waste as we take on water, this won’t be complete without black skies and a warm asphyxiation. Now that things are a bit more pressing, take only what you need. Not what you want. Not what you love. Only what you need. If, when you find your way to shore, your hands are empty; you might consider yourself lucky. Washed clean of all the preconceived notions you had carefully crafted loop after loop, you can drink from the bottom shelf and feel no different.
You don’t want any drinks, but you will need one or two– just for the taste; clarity isn’t all it’s cracked up to be sometimes.
Lights like how you imagine them, all perfectly lit to the evening; not to scrutinize anything, but to allow you to feel the deepest of dreams – it’s a feeling dammit, you fill it all in as you go – next time you fill it all with local analgesics from your recent trip to 2012, or perhaps color it in with temperatures from some of your Sumeria summers. These aren’t quantifiables. They are vivids of the imagination, a glimpse of you.
You can’t slip quietly through any cracks.
I had something I was writing you; it wasn’t a sonnet or anything like an ode, limerick, or quatrain-no it was just something-nothing like a burlesque, or villanelle; you know it had shape, sound and visual! Perhaps a rondeau is well in order, but not until you wait in line.
I’m a firm believer that when you work hard at something, and I mean truly work hard… You can appreciate the master work we happen upon in this life beyond what the innocent eye can see-yes you can stare for a long time and just keep seeing depths, while the others walk by only moments later because they have seen the mirrors surface, and none of the movements that brought it about, none of the steps that brought it before them.
A night with you, is always the shortest night of my life–Before I know it the sun strikes me across the spheres. We’re not anywhere near the…hush, it’s not a dream you can just leave.
I’m not much for staying quiet, the forces of nature know my mind is turning; and it must flow. I can not sit by the banks and hold all the water to my self. I’m not much for being pushed either. I’m patient – But that patience does has an end it seems. I never minded watching with some contemplation. I just took too long to churn the situation.
I lit the fuse about 20 seconds ago. I know I should have given a heads up, but I think you know the spark has been running. I’m not quite sure what it was, but we’ll see soon what I’ve set off.
When I’m in the dark,
When I’m in the dark my heart fails
A couple bumps, and I think I need a kilo;
So much weight I could push the scales –
Take my evening strolls to the chimeras’ lair.
Let’s skip to the full moon! It’s a short fair
And now I know what it is I am preparing for.
One night, when I awake at 3 A.M. unable to slip
back into dreams – I will look beside me, and there you will be
Sleeping peacefully near – and suddenly,
The madness of it all won’t seem so lonely.
Did you see the flash! There it is another one! What doom we saw and called it beauty!
I do remember all the times I let us slide, I have learned though now that there was never any time. No time to sit and watch. I had to taste you in the moment right before getting lost. Because in the blink of an eye it will all be gone. But dam it’s a hell of a show. Loud enough to keep the image vivid in your mind all the way home. And when we get there:
I’m going to change my galaxy
I’m going to paint a few things a bit closer, and some others further apart
I’m going to let all the colors run to where they want
When we we’re on fire, the heat didn’t really bother us.
Now it’s hard to ignore the burns, but I’m still walking.
I’ve been thinking about that art, premeditated.
I had to steal it, once I saw it – Haunted
No brakes, hands leaving traces,
I’d rather use my body as an answer than words,
but I’ll give you three – Come to me
Pouring flows, she likes to get two on – Under me
First degree with that brain – Cuffed
Mrs. Officer putting it on like she caught me
The way you reading my rights I wish you would
Throw me in the back and start ripping my clothes off.
I’m here to deliver your favorite flavor.
Flip you round and hit it like I was digging a grave for murder;
I’m a gentleman, of course I’ll bring flowers.