Taken for Granite

Whereby

a  storm comes ambling aloft

which builds upon itself and

You are there to 

Witness the change

in atmosphere

Almost a reconsideration of

Truth, as it pours down 

Over body and soul.

One becomes

Baffled by the way

Sound carries or

Falls

depending upon

the time of day or night while

those spinning hours

make a hum under

Thoughts that echo

Passing through

this chambered grey space. 

We are 

Well,

enveloped 

under this veil

Trapped in body and mind

the heartbeat is 

Small comfort

Persistent as gravity

the weight we hold

Ourselves

up against wind and wave

Enduring the 

Resilience

Even while

strewn about

We become

overflowing, dispersing

Violently sometimes

Breaking down into bits, drops and 

Grains-

Eroding to dust

before settling

Eventually

becoming a mountain

Once again. 

Painting by Marianne North (1830-1890) - View near Tijuca, Brazil, Granite Boulders in the Foreground - MN821 - Marianne North Gallery, Royal Botanic Gardens, Kew via Wikimedia Commons in Public Domain. 

Witness whiteness

Who is watching?

I feel-

Enough.
It was
-not needed
              any more
Love
         you sooo much
rains    candy,
Sugar name drop not

Justify
Too

it is complicated,
intricate, entanglement-
through
close contact-
intertwined
and inevitable.

You see. You do.
You are-I am too.

Kiss me
Aloud
if you can

in this tension
of Presently,

Let me
             land-

(softly) Held,
holding

your gazing heart
that embers
                    Into

Ashen skin
before

All of This
living in sin
bore witness
To.

Finally,
just

what do you wish
to be called?


Painting by Franz Dvorak, c. 1927 in [Public domain].

Season-ings

To witness growth
one must take a step back
but not remove themselves
from speculation,
change, like belief and bubbles
alter in temperature and light.

As the gardener cannot see his progress
the bloom feels its way,
leaning on its stem,
aiming was its own reward.

Mothers are often blinded
by this slim proximity
notice the pulling chord
that is heard as heartstrings
plucked.

She knows all things grow over night,
the young years thunder on tired legs,
over time, the smell of blooms and bodies
become intoxicating,
telling.

It felt like Summer,
it was Spring by morning.
the light rushed in
ahead of the sweeping breeze,
but we knew it was coming,
we smelled the way
things change.


Painting by Frédéric Bazille [Public domain], c. 1866-67 via Wikimedia Commons.

Muted Miranda

It is clear
we are obscure.

You can relax.
It is right to let it go-
and by the way,
you never had control
autonomously anyway.

Listen,
I know you hear
the same eerie prophecy,
drowned in echoed epiphanies,
or floating on fantasies
of everlasting
We Were Here
dwelling in fear
and drawing it out
by quarters
intones.

Why we comply-
we know not
everything was true.

All will pass
all the same
as though
blue were something
new-yet there is nothing
we can do
but witness.

We have the right
to remain silent
left behind an
afterthought
with guilt
by association
lurking alone
for the safety of Others.



Painting By Pompeo Molmenti (1819-1894), The Arrest of Filippo Calendario, 1874 (FineArtAmerica) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. 

Hyperborean

Under the shield
of summer and satire
It is cold inside.

They are all as lost as we are
so don't follow Those-
taken outdoors to witness
the sky
holding up,
while others grasp for air.
What can we learn from horizons...

At night,
desist does not do
enough
to take the edges off.

There is color coded warmth
coming from a flaming star-
it sinks in Riga Mortis
drawing a line
from my moment
to an eon
in some dynamic way.

Thus, an impression remains
obsidian and reflective,
oblivious of fixed polarities
as cinereal origins.

A sense of exposure manifests
at-most-fear,
in a moment of raw awareness.
Just-like this-cold air-
I shudder
to think
of a point
taken too far.



Photo credit By NASA [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. 
Astronaut Scott Kelly posted this photo of the Perseid meteor shower taken from the International Space Station on Instagram with the caption, "Space weather forecast from @ISS: Moonless with a chance of Perseid meteors! YearInSpace space spacestation wx weather meteors meteorshower constellation astronomy nasa".

Remember it so

By now,
neurologists all know
we lie
and believe what
is so
vivid enough to make
it so-
in our alternate reality,
what we call memory.

Who was there to witness
it so-
they can testify the truth
as it happened by view
they say-
it is,
so we believe it.

Duality seems determined
by a parallelogram sent
from another timeline
started forever ago,
we think we know
it so-
Infinite possibilities
project our stories,
our memories,
our-one time-
gone another way.

So tell it all ways, build
it so
intricate and elaborate, that
it is
simply the best story
only you know
by now.




Image of painting by John White Alexander [No restrictions or Public domain], Memories (1903) via Wikimedia Commons.