It’s only a matter of time. A matter of measureless mindfoam. A minute miracle mineral named matter. Mine the mind. Mind the minefield name time. Wrap the rain around the rhythm of your brain. Drain the silence that strains you through the thorough into the threadless, the sweet serene bottle of breathlessness. The fire of fiercelessness.
Anticipate the ancillary, artillery of your arteries awakening up inside a blossoming field of burning white hot ash. Of billowing curls of divine sliding trash.
I see the star shine in the trees. I fill my cup of wonder up with fresh ashy embers of life, swelter them, swim in them, and let my skin fill up with soul, squeeze myself out over the sidewalks of the glimmering streets of stunted home vision and I stand back- stare at the tracks in the concrete and wonder whether I am made of metal or made of mind or made of matter or simply seabrine. Or is it truly that celestial center of the rainbow named time.
I am part of my own great whimsical wonderland. I am practicing wheeling out like a top, tipping out my truth and gathering up more torturous tongues of taste. I taste the dream.
Drag the magic out of your spine, its sitting waiting, sipping a cup of hot sea.
what madness is this? what driveling, sweating mongrels have we become that we forget the tune of our own singing? that we beget what the moon remembered? that we lose the diamond-hearted trust of the swelling cosmic dance of the stars that carved our shapes out of slivers of silver asteroid breath? what cowering country of cowards have given rise to this slimy new decade of disease, disaster and discontentment? where has the wind blown from? from what enchanted portal have we closed our own doors and huddled our masses into our own great green grasses now drying to yellow, gold and grey. flecked with puny impudence, what ignorance has laid this great soul soldier to rest? who are we to neglect the thorny river of the moon?
and trust and trust and trust the seething, scarring universe as is casts you down and around through the murk and the mayhem of the slinking caverns of chaos and connection that it wants to dream you into. and believe and breathe into the mess of twisting tunnels of force that want to crack open your spleen and twist body around your brain. and soar through the floating heights of heroic dance and dream that your life will always be, for one infinite instant, a breath of absolute aliveness. and follow that aliveness all the way back through awareness, to awakeness…back to rebirth.