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I’ve shifted again cloned to this moment movement saturated with magnetic attraction Birds clothed with daunting spiral screeches dives into black berry pie Grandma’s hands veined with my spirit called me to the pitchers mound I see a possibility and I aim, my spine speaks the diatribe of loosing but my heart is snickering like an older brother laughing out loud, copying my every word ( I am confused and a bit angry) this a proven tactic my world seems to set loose on my Learning. Right then? I care for naught; my heart nor my head So then I think Who am I? I am suspended above likeness Above suspicion Above the ‘norm’ I am loose and I fit into groves like extended membrane of rats inside the crush of cellophane noise four years old at christmas unwrapping gifts freely expecting life to deliver but a father, a mother, a friend, a stranger warps my view black like blue Clothed in sound It is almost assured the sun will shine today It is almost assured the grass will grow It is almost assured I will become more Scene 2: I am back on the pitchers mound the screaming errupts such unruly delight from the crowd of my memories going back seems deafining I throw the ball I hear a crack my within and without assembles like crosswords on Sunday sound becomes me the life I know knows me (we’ve been friends thoughout time and beyond) all at once I catch up to the knitting of dreams and beliefs Into something ‘not known before’ **Pearls made from sand ENTIRE STRAND**… I understand there is more than mind and heart ( blasphemy?) I understand there is space between the moments between breathing in and out Oh sweet spot transition! Crack…. Here I am Right where I am using the substance between the seeming separation as starting point of all I deem real Linaji 2011
0
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 2:54 PM UTC
Inspired to feel more
I’ve shifted again cloned to this moment movement saturated with magnetic attraction Birds clothed with daunting spiral screeches dives into black berry pie Grandma’s hands veined with my spirit called me to the pitchers mound I see a possibility and I aim, my spine speaks the diatribe of loosing but my heart is snickering like an older brother laughing out loud, copying my every word ( I am confused and a bit angry) this a proven tactic my world seems to set loose on my Learning. Right then? I care for naught; my heart nor my head So then I think Who am I? I am suspended above likeness Above suspicion Above the ‘norm’ I am loose and I fit into groves like extended membrane of rats inside the crush of cellophane noise four years old at christmas unwrapping gifts freely expecting life to deliver but a father, a mother, a friend, a stranger warps my view black like blue Clothed in sound It is almost assured the sun will shine today It is almost assured the grass will grow It is almost assured I will become more Scene 2: I am back on the pitchers mound the screaming errupts such unruly delight from the crowd of my memories going back seems deafining I throw the ball I hear a crack my within and without assembles like crosswords on Sunday sound becomes me the life I know knows me (we’ve been friends thoughout time and beyond) all at once I catch up to the knitting of dreams and beliefs Into something ‘not known before’ **Pearls made from sand ENTIRE STRAND**… I understand there is more than mind and heart ( blasphemy?) I understand there is space between the moments between breathing in and out Oh sweet spot transition! Crack…. Here I am Right where I am using the substance between the seeming separation as starting point of all I deem real Linaji 2011
linaji
Written by
linaji
American
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 2:54 PM UTC
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