Sleep and breath
And the rivers wash over me
The night sky above shines every star as equal
The waters calm
The night is still
The air is cool and fresh
Sleep and dream
And let the world be silent
Sleep and slip from existence
Tonight.
Sleep and breath
And the rivers wash over me
The night sky above shines every star as equal
The waters calm
The night is still
The air is cool and fresh
Sleep and dream
And let the world be silent
Sleep and slip from existence
Tonight.
Note: this is one of my favorite things that I have written…that NOBODY else ‘gets’ or likes. So I’m posting it anyway (haha). I love it (I’m not ashamed to say), don’t care that nobody else does :”) ~ G
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Pandora’s box opens wide,
and the world springs out. . .
Cardboard boxes, plastic chairs,
and concrete buildings
fill the air
tar and asphalt everywhere.
Computers build our history
and numbers are given to you and me,
and Crime becomes our Goddess.
Creatures from beyond our mind
crawl out from the Box to find
their own…new…Prehistory.
Shadow’s from beyond our grave
have now become our Mortal slave
…and we our folly Masters.
To shut this Box,
we kill in vain
and shout out every Mythic name
and Death becomes our enemy.
We build our castles of
glass and sand
knowing well they cannot stand
but Nature is our sin.
Pandora knew, but chose to dwell
in a modern information hell
that we, her offspring, keep.
My number is my History
and everything that I will see
of her…grand…Creation.
But why I ask, and ponder deep
was Pandora given this box to keep
with such a feeble lid?
Can it be, curiosity,
is not the sin that we perceive
but Eden in a well?
The tortures that we mass spoon-feed
are the only things our Monsters seed
but if we stop the One with heart
the other must then fall apart
and now begins…Serenity.
everything that was
isn’t
and the never will be that was
has become
and sitcom after sitcom
you sit here and stare at me
waiting for me to Be
but deep down under
the cement and pavement
of this numb world that I’ve
begotten
is something more green and beautiful
than whole
and the everything that isn’t
may yet become
but only if I stand upright
for once
just once
for you
and no shout loud enough
could be heard by all
so time now, to stand
time now, to kneel
before and beside you
and never think again
of That.
One more drink
and I’ll call you back
one more, just one more
and I’ll call it off
Another night
a long, long drive
and maybe, just maybe
I’ll fall in love
Turn the key
the one stuck inside of me
must be some way
to find it
Another drink
and I’ll see you there
one more, just once more
I know I have to call it off.
things click
and then slip
and I can’t quite catch them
fast enough
my mind speeding on
towards whatever infinity
destiny seeks
or obliterates by design
inside of me.
I can see everything at once
by sense or feel
I can touch the whole gram of
“existence”
and yet never construct
or instruct
or in effect
Affect
one single molecular compound
Being.
I Need
what I feel.
but I am never real.