We were talking by the fire
about the silence between us.

How we’ve used it to push each other
farther away,
yet now, closer somehow.

So funny we are

We fixed up our house
and put it up for sale
only to find
how much we love it here

It’s kind of like us you know.
We patched ourselves up,
just enough to be civil
and to decide
how we should end it.

And somewhere along the way
found each other again.

Here in this house.
Amongst the painting
and the fixing up
and the warmth of the fire,
we talked
until there was silence no more.

The subject of this email is as usual... subjective! Not sure there is actually a subject involved? I mean if I just ramble on about any old thing that crosses my mind, how would that be described as a subject. I submit that the "subject" line of all emails should be moved to the end of an email! That way we would have a better grasp of what the subject of the email truly is.

Better yet it should automatically prompt you to go to the subject line when you click "send" to fill in at that time. Maybe the email program should even give samples of possible subject lines based on google's interpretation of what you have typed in the body of the email. Better yet that program should just run automatically and impose a subject line based on the information in the message body after it is run through several psychiatric data bases and analyzed and a consensus has been reached...

Hmmm... Now I'm thinking that there should be a mind to keyboard interface so we can do away with all this time-consuming typing! And while we're at it why not add a chip in our brains that thinks for us and sends the data it receives directly to the keyboard interface... I mean think of all the time we would save not having to think any more!

Why stop there? We can also add emotion chips so that when we are letting our thinking chip talk for us we can also have the emotions that our emotion chip thinks we should be feeling automatically inserted into the email with the capability of it being felt by the emotion chip in the person whose thinking and keyboard interface chips are perusing the email written by our thinking and keyboard interface chips.

Ooooh now I'm really thinking... why not install mini SD drives in our brains so we can change the way we feel by simply inserting a new SD card? That way if we happen to read one of the emails thought out by our thinking chip, written by our keyboard interface chip, analyzed and consented to by the psychiatric data bases and given a subject and we decide that we want to change the way it is perceived by the thinking chip of the recipient we can simply insert a different emotion SD card into our SD drive and have those new emotions embedded directly into the email!

***! This is genius! Imagine the time we could save! I could just go on and on with this! The applications are limitless. Why hasn't someone thought of this before? Oh wait, what am I thinking... this is old news. This is called brainwashing and the government and every major company in the world has been doing it since the dawn of capitalism!

I'm going to stop now because I am no longer sure if the words I write are my own, or if they are just a bunch of noise created by the humm of all the post hypnotic suggestive clutter in my brain from years and years of commercial TV and slick politician abuse.

That's all I have time for this morning. I apologize in retrospect for the emotional agony I have put your brain through while reading this inane banter...

Insatiable insanity,
left wing, right foot, home.
Rectangular, triangular,
incapably prone.

Unable stigmatically,
invariably drone.
Whimsical fanatical,
address unknown

Sounds can describe
the words they convey.
Tranquil decisions can blur,
but do they.

Utter a word
to see what you say,
say what you see,
then be what you may.

Describe it in detail,
exhale every verb,
catch yourself, let yourself
grade on a curve.

But don’t strain your brain,
if it doesn’t make sense,
just take it all in,
come down off your fence.

Blue sadness drips
from long tired eyes,

her star weeps alone
filling entire oceans

with the salt of life
lived not living, but

dangling from strings,
a marionette's fate.

Neither forward nor sideways nor up and or down
Its backwards thru past lives a second time around
Touching on vague realities that seem familiar some how
On my way back to the beginning of my here and now

I was whole
I was alone
Moving forward
Out of time
In sequence with all I knew
I knew all
I was whole
I was all I knew

Then there was you
From out of nowhere
A collision
Piercing me
Filling me
With you
A struggle
Not enough room
An explosion
Pieces of me
Pieces of you
Flying through space
Time no longer standing still
Moving forward
As I dance across pieces of you and I
Gathering myself

Sorting out
Me from you
The inner workings
The foundations
The infinite possibilities
The right and the wrong
Left and right
Up and down
Forward
NO... backwards
I must go back
Thru the lives I have lived
The time that’s gone by
Relive the past
One past life at a time
Til I get back to the place
Before there was time
Stop the collision
From re-framing my mind

Imagine running towards a star as it goes Nova
That would be me
The star, the Nova
And you
The cause
My reason