the waning late summer sun resting on the face of a golden still pond this- is- calm… (pause; inhale… hold… hold… exhale…) “pinch me my darling, for surely I travel in the realm of dream” but no, a sweet captive of the great blue marble cast out upon the blackest sea.
within the salt’on sea the sky is slates of ice cracks ‘cross of bended light the sun’s but a dream far night for the warmth is the warp of gravity deep inside the core of that, the salt’on sea
in a frozen landscape, or a floating sea of ice, is there land, is there hope, is there life, the physics still exists in the gymnasts in such realms so let it be… imagination…
(as always your thoughts and comments are welcome and appreciated, even if you think I suck, that’s cool too, I do this as a posting of art, nothing more, I do not expect everyone to get it, love it, or even care… just putting a little piece of the me out there into the ether, and hey, maybe you dig the tunes.. I have a lot of thoughts about that… and I also write media reviews, so check them out, I am funnier than you think… well, at least I tell myself that.)
wrought iron ancient tower in look sold and bought at a garden center in years I might have forgot some winters to fill you up going bare barren for an entire season no good reason, just the passing forgetting to refill the silo forgetting t’was even there, at times the nature of gravity and consumption in the wind, swaying
a common winter night not an occasion to stop- so filled to the top and spilt over not a delicate affair no, certainly not like an old man in the park shuffling hands in a paper bag, for company more organized perhaps but much the same rouse much the same draw
and I can not control those who come who find this rest stop and sometimes a flurry a gang of rooks, a jail break frenzy romp rather than the gentle sweep and peck the subtle moves of anxiety the back and forth with caution of those who might be prey or at least garnish so little ones bounce from limb to perch or a big blue jay swoops in also on the lurch
sometimes I wish- to script upon the seed with the breed I wish to attract oh, silly me haven’t we all done this very same act? (in our own reality)
based on the real, just my bird feeder swinging on the tree outside my bedroom window and the implications there… life is a strange and wonderful thing. so…. what do you think ?
and for any noobs: (I promise to be gentle) I write in flash form, maybe my work is not perfect but it is a flash photo of what comes out of my mind and pen (ok, keyboard mostly)… so, just so you know how it works around here, this is all just me throwing my breath out there, so if you read all this, or any of this, thanks for your cherished time, I appreciate it.
if I could live my life over again would I be the only one or given a new life an empty page or might I prefer to hold the knowledge I have gained, to start in soil as a sprout without the memory of the tree that spawned me and set me free upon this earth as a plotting acorn a cloud of dandelion seed a coconut carried to a different shore on an indifferent sea, or spirit energy transformed back to light and reborn from forth a celestial womb to begin the cycle all-together and all anew (on the universe’s cue)
sometimes we all act the fool, in jest I must accept not reject this abject part of my humanity… for at best I am my worst and my best is met beyond my expectations my pet, but I bet I do not know anything yet, with four decades under belt I have felt many things and still stumble like a child learning first steps, because there are always more first steps, there is always first steps unless you live life standing still, but then you would be a dummy, both figuratively and literally… or maybe just a man named quinn…
the proposal of the sun- (now) in our time of this sacred covenant the light does strike out from the direction of dawn down, out upon my palm (moments go, the light) slides up my forearm yes, and then I notice- the warming; welling up, as from within an upward spring, flowing toward the surface an awakened primal memory the pure instinct of response a trigger, intrinsic in all forms the jubilation- a germination- of the elemental elixir infused infused with the optimism inherent in life from the giver of- the sun from whence all life, derives (thrives).
notes… just the power of the sun hitting my arm, on a grey day when the breaks became a jail break of light later on, the feel, the feel is so visceral, something within us all is awakened by such days or moments, to remember, to recall… and carry on, with joy…
out upon the silky sea a voyage be’ond discovery for out in that unforgiving grave a rock an outcrop once the roiling cauldron heap to melt the earth herself molten dreams roll conjured up from the continental shelf herself and here now cooled and tam’d these days spared the steam ‘don cleared the haze a seeking flock found peace and stayed without a fang ‘r tooth long in sight decided they were done with flight for why bother with a pilot’s trial on cliffs and yonder tuck’n’tail
notes… nah, I am not explaining this one… let it be mystery and fodder for imagination as this was a loose interpretation, of language and creation, on my part, in other news I finally reorganized my YouTube Channel a bit, so check it out if you please, and on Facebook I post things so, all that, if you like what I do, thank you, no, truly, I broadcast out my frequency and hope there are at least a few ears in tune, even if not, at least I am here to do it.. and that is truly enough, remember that.
so- should I? marry you death- now or then why wait? why the rush? inevitable- the perfect mate; fate- so let the courtship begin and never end. unless I should begin again; reincarnation or resurrection- so let the lantern be lit so I may follow into the path of light.