I urge you to object your permanence
for nothing in this world is permanent.

© Matthew Harlovic

World, do you finally realize this is real?
Beyond your passions, your ups and downs, and everything that will pass,
her death is so very permanent?
Do you finally realize she'll never again walk the earth, even if you force your tears aside?
Have you finally noticed the cost?
Stop, and look at her, head pulled so heavily by gravity, held on as if by a string, a shadow of the strength she once was.
There she is, in your lap, she's twenty-one and she has taken her last breath.
All for your silly ideals and passions.
Did you know to stand for what you believe in could cause more than just your daily heartbreak?

Mozart changes the color
of eyes from deep blue
to see green.
Work with me and I'll
summon up everyone's
artificial ancient animals.

Sleek thin machines
whizz with mechanism
pumping out more and more
machines to make machines
to make metals
for more machines.
Shine chrome greased
and spinning while
white coated retrievers
pace exactly random,
occasionally checking
their clip boards.
Machines whizz on,
we could tune a cello
with their perfect hum.
We could tune a tuning fork
with their perfect hum.
Machines for materials
for machines that melt
and remold old machines
to new.  Born machines.
Wet black discs
slide clean downward
only to spiral
upward again.

Clarinet to oboe,
slurred crescendo
back down in again.

Then forward:
Back,
Up,
Left,
and left music
back down in again.

"Where's our end?"
and back down in again.

"I see the top!"
and back down in again.

"Talk to me, please!"
and back down in again.

"Throw me a float!"
and back down in again.

And sink, and sink
back down in again
back down in again
back down in again

forgetting the traces of who i knew you to be and scraping off the dried blood
along my legs
and my wrists and picking the scabs of almost healed wounds
from when you slid your precious knife of prose across my skin
which carved our initials inside of a heart but skin doesn't last like bark does
and when we carved our poem into the concrete it dried only over my name
and our love is forever carved
into the sidewalk
along my hands.

I've found an infinity between comparison and reality;
A gap between everything and nothingness,
A dream between being asleep and lucid,
A time between now and forever.

I've found an escape between chaos and logic;
A note between two keys,
A word between two sentences,
A color between two hues.

I've found a void deprived of emptiness;
A space between comfort and accord,
A spark between flames,
A forest between the soil and seeds.

I've found a sanctuary between time and erosion;
A point between here and now,
A peace between me and everything,
A monument between decay and permanence.

I've found an Interim.

Illusions of permanence are cutting the very
Depth of this mind while it
Overflows with thoughts and
Never-ending clouds bring
'
Tears to remind how
Knowledge is the whirlwind while
Not-knowing is the silent center; still the
Ongoing winds keep tearing down every
Withered leaf from the tree of my heart.