Aug 19, 2011

Boom, shaka...laka?

When I speak their language I fail
See me drift mid-sentence
Know where I am headed:

Between pages, between glances (how geometry was born)
Past that blinding light, there must be something to see
once your eyes adjust
The energy within and the energy around
Places your waking life has stolen
Something inside, something that must be freed
A rotten edifice that must be destroyed
A celebration hall, festooned but uninhabited
An abandoned house, deep within the woods
The flickering of light on the leaves
dancing, almost mocking
as they obscure but become your vision
A bed of many fabrics, an array of elixirs
Make-believe, a silly place, a sudden place
a realization, a recognition
a premonition, a pattern writ
A space destroyed with a wave
of an indelicate hand
A radical light, a power
A skeptic searching for a potent spell
Where any object can take on this living quality
this breathing color
This THING, this thing that sneaks up on me
This strange beauty that lurks around the corner
This shape-shifter of meaning, this house of lunatic potentials
and renegade spectrums and spectral renegades
You and I, the only eyes
You and I, the spark, the source
You and I, so patient, so HUNGRY

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