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March 07, 2017 | | Comments 0

The Atmosphere Of Choice

February 10 & 21, 2017

The atmosphere of choice drifted away,
What were once canyons became wind-blown ash,
What was once a vast river of commerce became
a rivulet of quiet, trickling softness upon the
underbelly of a submerged war ship; thick-steel hull,
its transparent spirit laid to rest, the Round Table Trustees
cascading from world-memory as easily as a Northern
pike lays its eggs in the deep, green lake-bed kelp,

Up from History rose a rose,
Up from pure Innocence strove an invisible thing, half
love, one quarter Reason and the rest Wonder,

I knelt at the edge of its mind and felt along its mysterious
skin; waterfalls, falling humanities, mosses, quivering
children in sky-heights mending, dying angels’ last breaths
and infant demons as pure as Winter-linen, rainbows turned
in upon themselves, contemplating black holes, black-death,
dark-matter, the eyes of dreaming moles and sipping Fate’s
inks as though they were liquor,

I envisioned a heart, nestled within a kind of weathered
quartz,
I understood its drumbeat, its drum-circle carved down
deep, the empty, warm chairs hewn straight out of the
surrounding landscape, their specific design ever-changing,
ever shrinking and expanding in body-size reaped,
And the churning hurricane of pregnant life-forms above it,
the music by which they moaned, called, screeched and wept
inside the eyelet of Eternity’s thirst for music, janus-faced
envelopes and feathered beds suspended by silk hammocks
with winged dinosaur legs and quasar feet,

On either sides of the heart flowed two streams in opposite
directions,
One was made of milk and the other white-hot lava,
I noticed footprints not my own, petrified and fresh, dancing
and half worn away, overlapped, crisscrossed, cracked,
chiseled and removed, filled with forgotten sentiment-
plasters and wreathed in tombstones, bunched up with fresh
flowers, glitters, emeralds, wolf teeth, cat fur and pink-
blooming orchids with eyes and wearing oddly mismatched
patchwork quilts,

I reached down and scooped it all up, my hands had grown
large in between the time I witnessed, had the desire and
purchased the will and movement to act,
Whole cities arose in my palms, I witnessed tornado lovers
shredding their bed-sheets asunder for the sake of silk moth
heavens, I viewed earthquakes ice skating on lakes of frozen
life and death, Time standing still as herds of antelope
stampeded in the open mouths of crushed granite phoenix
Kings and Queens,

The skies hurried by and months resurrected eons,
Eons knitted milliseconds and reflections gathered by
birdbaths, stood up and danced my name in freshly fallen
snow as old men mourned the love-loss of their life-
companion dogs,

Spirals set down as platinum jewelry in fairy-hair-dressed
composures, hollow oak trees whistled as another god was
laid to rest, ‘dog’ spelt backwards since it is they who have
actually passed Desire’s zest, quest and tests…

The winds picked up,
I saw an extinct lizard scurry by,
A tear rolled down from my right eye,
Wait, no, my only eye…
Cyclopic investor in weathervane serenities,
Skin lifting, organs disappearing, skeleton leaping
from my grip and dancing in the molten orgasms of
Pele, drinking cream, wearing cheese dresses and overalls,
pitchforks raised high with new worlds vibrating through
the tines like farmhand tuning forks set to Thor-thunder
and quiet zebra mothers giving birth, chewing the umbilical
cords away from Gestation, freeing themselves and not-self
into the prairies of Renewal, breathing Breathe, commandments
never held by bearded men, nor virgins or sands stepped upon
by anything, save themselves, touched and whispered to, fluffed
and rolled through and through, patterns of twirl, designs of
whirl and the faint jasmine scent of a girl and boy yet to come,
the first settlers jettisoned by Chaos’s straight line and an eager
nautilus-galaxy’s hand held out, scanned and witnessed by a
brilliant Void of weightlessness and looming with the souls of
bashful koi, mouths wide open, while the swan mothers of
angels feed them make-believe, real Eternity-bread…

AlbinoHummingbird2016

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Filed Under: Michael

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