hacking the cloud
to paint the sky

- code in words
gets the color
down between the lines -

beneath the verse -
perfectly - poetically

- subversive.

r ~ 10/19/14

I.
a wide open space.
empty.
except for a lone chair.

II.
a large variety of colors.
some yellow.
some blue.
all closed.

III.
the curtains
have been closed
for a while now.
it has solemnly
seen light.

IV.
it has stories
that have never
bothered to be
discovered.

V.
it is not
the stories'
fault.

VI.
the chair
has given up
on the thought
of being accepted.

VII.
the spines of
the books
are wearing away.
not as much from
being old as to
being ignored.

VIII.
there is no electricity.
the lights burned out
a while ago,
and no one bothered
to replace them.

IX.
the floor is shadowless.
it is opening,
but enclosing.

X.
the stories are
lathered
in dust.

XI.
even though
they've been
disregarded,
the paper cuts
just as bad
when it slices
your hand.

XII.
you can hear
the sound of
retreating
footsteps,
too afraid of
what lies inside
the binding.

XIII.
I am left alone.
encased
in the wood
of the bookshelves.

bend that bow till breaking
fire those arrows at will
I am an illusion
a draft of sorrows and heartache
too ephemeral
too misty to stay long in any sights
for the sake of argument.
gentiles and wit
karma and justice
its seems the only thing broken is your luck,
and the answer it seems is lost in the wind
while you're too busy thinking
by my mind you are already an ancient thought.
cast your strokes,
carve your name upon my will
a hard target for an uneasy ****
I've died before and lived again
My special healing power is
I never give a **** more than is necessary
and yes indeed this above all
makes me a most worthy adversary.

When I heard the learn’d astronomer,
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me,
When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them,
When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,
Till rising and gliding out I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.