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The living reality of a metaphor, almost every ounce in-taken,
Every nuance, every pronounce, measured, weighted and weighty,
Fluid or firmament, each encapsulated, prior to release, scaled,
Tabulated, ordered, noted, recorded, and ultimately judg-ed.
Totality of it all, the varied quantities of the ingested nutrients,
even the forecast of the future, if every day was a metaphor for
like today

DO

I speak of the day's headlines?
Of the quantity and nutrition that passes through my lips?
Or
The surround sound of the surrounding sounds of this day,
the flocks of bandito geese who exist only to torment,
the landscape working crews, with their tools, like a 7::00an wake up buzzing about, for the entire street, going house to house, looking for itinerant grassy knolls of patches of bright green,
overnight sprung up and needy to be
guillotined,
laundry to do, rugs needy for clothesline screaming/beating or merely super fast vacuuming;
they, hawking their skills available for the old and infirm,
or the fatty catty cattle lazy, (somewhere in there is moi);
and the decibels of their machines, the rat-a-tat of their rapido, voluble speech that feeds me poetry by the ounce of their laughter, but more exactly of,

What do I speak, to what do I allude?

Why all and none, everything and specifically nothing,

for the metaphor is meta! (1)
It is life itself, from the quarter teaspoon
to the overflowing bath, it is life at its most incremental,
the moment
of flushing face,
the second
of ah ha! recollection, the,
long term trends
trending,
the flatline of my EKG,
the weighty pronouncement of my talking scale (you've been bad),

IT IS THE EVERYTHING
that is measurable, weighable, isolatable, defined; 
it is our existence of our each & every of action and inaction strung together like a necklace and a chain

We are metaphor, reality, is, the script,
which is the product of you.
scriptwriter…/
(1) Meta …refers to the prefix "meta-", meaning "about," "change," or "beyond". In a more specific context, "meta" can describe something that is self-referential or reflective, like a joke about jokes
annh Mar 2021
Peace abides in the gentle velvet folds of patient time;

When industry is forgotten and rigid right angles

Give way to soft currents of inspiration;

Lacking definition, judgement or expectation

My yardstick shrinks and disintegrates into nothingness...

Inadequate to the task of measuring infinity.

‘Where is beauty to be found? In great things that, like everything else, are doomed to die, or in small things that aspire to nothing, yet know how to set a jewel of infinity in a single moment?’
- Muriel Barbery, The Elegance of the Hedgehog
David Moss Dec 2014
Tick tock tick tock

Is their any difference between a tick and a tock?

I mean conceptually of course

Not just the workings of a clock

I guess the ticks are every moment

And the tocks is what will be

All tocks become ticks

But all tick tocks go eventually

Not to worry

I care more though in concepts

Of looking past our man made time

Ticks and tocks don't really matter

If you don't pay them any mind

That's a funny thought though

I like that actually

Paying time our money

Money equals time they say

But to me it's a little funny


Cause what if you don't care for money or time?

What then defines your existence of being alive? 

I mean to me a more sound measure

Is perhaps the pleasure

Of feeling my heart beating

A personal repeating of self made time and space

And once that tickers gone

I'm sure to follow along to our final resting place

Fitting we call our hearts the good old ticker then, hey?

My lungs are therefore the tocks

Like two little personal clocks

Working together differently

But in symbiotic harmony

All beats become breaths and all breaths pass by eventually

To me this seems a more valid sense of time

Like when you think of the sublime setting of the sun

Moments as these seem to slow down

And you're stuck in blissful entraption

Some moments just go so fast

And some feel like the last an eternity

And all the while inside me

My heart and lungs slow and speed accordingly

It's quite beautiful actually

Cause now when I think of us

I can count what you mean to me

115,200 ticks of my heart
30,000 tocks of my breath
Those are my average daily rates at rest

80 ticks of heart a minute
30 tocks of air
But around you I am sure

These numbers rise beyond anything compared


Like when I first met you

I think my ticks were at least at 122

Yes to be fair

My breaths fell short in some way
I guess from all the kissing to be had that day

And when we first made love

I felt like both were above

Anything I have ever felt before

And darling

If I could store my ticks and stocks in a special place for you
Reserve them in a bank for us to save
For special days between us two

I think it's safe to say
I'd gladly let you withdraw and take

All my beats and breaths away
First Draft!

— The End —