artificial, just like the pill bottle.
the world condenses, collapses into a pin-point right in front of my eyes
and into my paper or computer screen
thoughts racing at light speed
my mind trying to digest its own thoughts--
state of hyper-realism (Who am I again?)
an alternate dimension of higher thought
crash into an hour (or two) from now
and fall down
hard, into the present.
You are the luckiest man on Earth.
To experience a love that surpasses both time and it's absolute space.
YOU TOOK IT FOR GRANTED.
What a chance wasted on nothingness.
You have failed your fate. Dimensions have been altered.
So as the reality that your eyes have envisioned.
Not everyone has been given this opportunity.
To experience unending love in which came from the heavens.
To be in great affection with a goddess entrapped in time.
However, I have been left in great amazement.
For you have left a goddess begging on her knees.
Mind-boggled. Emotions overflowed. Tongue twisted.
Blessed by the wondrous abilities of a seraph.
I extend my hand to the goddess left dumbfounded.
As I help her get through.
Through with you.
From the edge of our swollen solar system
Lingering just beyond our orbital reach
Is the faintest of calls
A pattern in space
We reach for it
We seek its existence
We wish it to life
But it's dark where we lie
Our vision's obscured
And we're broken
And then through the cracks
Their yellow seeps into our atmosphere
Their symbiotic notes fill the air
Bathe our shoulders and fall
Into a reluctant ground
Where life begins
A moment frozen in time;
Sublime and reclining
Speckled clouds in the sky.
A moment to reflect on
My minds eye divining
My mood weaves the meadows
in which I do graze,
Breeze on my face,
of natures innocence resounding.
What is this place?
Why is it so hard to reach?
Still to my bones.
so aware of it all.
This altered conscious hears my groans.
A warm, deep breath
for my soul,
resetting life's toll on me.
If the tiles of talking
are replaced by something else,
say, lexical snowflakes,
where will our linear minds be?
It's not that we don't understand
weird, multifoliate simultaneities
in dreams, in anguish,
or in ecstasy. It's just
the rest of the dumb time
we stand there and pull
from our mouths a usual
piece of numb string.