Show me the precise moment;
when your unfamiliar sky is at its exact height to which you can now call it sky.
As the unrest in the clouds
representing thoughts of an entire planets inhabitants clear; to reset control.
Now that being there; is now always near
And since then where have we’ll been? –
By the fridge near that bridge…
Leaning on the ridge of ‘Decorated Windowsill Hill.’
As you stare; stop looking… for answers on every wave, and under the tiring sun that lowers into its new water bed: forever creased. Each nearing roll of surf perpetually attends to the beach where you wander; reaching out and soaking, smoothing scars of soft land and human hand, from land loving creatures.
The bubbling roar of white noise; rising and dipping in volume; teasing your ears into hearing frequencies from lost radios stations: faulty and alluring. Every time this happens something is taken from you, soon replaced by a specific space to lighten your walk inland.
All this… as you stand, feet sucked by gooey miniature rocks that table gels of dead jelly fish; glistening like little brains of the sea; forced up upon confusion and violence from the mighty froths of wash.
Gonna get up
Gonna write something
The best ever
The number one
Gonna get up
Here it comes
Here it comes now…
Ok, tomorrow then
Some days, I’ve inhaled boulders,
Expelled sand-dunes at every breath,
Created desserts full of anagrams,
Formed beaches; of enormous breadth.
The intensity of wake turbulence
The sucking energy of undertow
In the midst
Of trembling heat-haze
Between ever-decreasing circles
An echo followed
By a future muted echo
And delay is breeding its alarm
Engulfed and entwined
Contained and compressed
In webs of self-inflicted time
By manmade life
I notice that you’re a dreamer
That you continue to stand there,
With Sir Polar Bear;
Engulfed in its colossal shadow,
And I can see that you know,
That I know
That you know this too.
It seems you can be forever surrounded,
By an endless sea of molten metals
Your mysterious lands;
Decomposing with rust;
Endlessly being anchored –
By your hidden flamboyance
Always to be taken –
By complex science
To a certain past
And a future lost.