The universe had always been under a vast ocean.. Only it was some how the oceans that were here.. Past the abyss of thoughts.. Past the dreams of light.. It was a fathomless chasm of darkness into sub-atomic light.. Even in dream distant it could not be reached.. Only in understanding could it be found.. Profound, yawning, and downreaching understanding.. Never were we looking up.. It was a Phantasm of beyond.. A castle in the air.. Conceiving the reverie to a beyond that was below.. Under the oceans here.. Below and below..
Deep within the bowels of the Earth immensely distant from the sheltering sky amidst a thick fog enveloped landscape with here and there a projected craggy, derelict chasm
precipitously crooked pointing toward an infinitely wide yawning abyss dwelt kindred spirits comprising a soul asylum where grateful dead (albeit marked
via weathered tomb stones) hermetically sealed once vibrant corporeal mortals betook their eternal slumber One among their number included a misanthrope
who sported long straggly hair bushy eyebrows shielding cold eyes of steel straggly bearded clammy chin in tandem with a hairy body which when alive (long time ago) upheld upon unshod feet a severely hunchbacked ******
Within dense pitch-black terrain (Mother Nature enlisting a menagerie of life forms accustomed to hellish environment) awash with unrecognizable alien sights and sounds
mollycoddling bewitching warlocks, mailer daemons, imps of the pervert chieftains, fiery long and fostered Golems who called underworld their private demesne
also alluded to Marcy's playground holding hostage Alice in Chains Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, The Beastie Boys, The Human League, and Village People a Crowded House
Emitting wisps of ethereal matter appearing a small medium at large chat snap ping, flickr ring indeed joyus minions exalting piety a plenti
Prone ounce sing proud purgatory promoting protean phantasmagoria hideous hulu hoop dancing holograms highly distorted grotesque silent screaming sinister banshees slithering across escarpment.
An otherwise normal day. Sitting on the bus, in the back, People watching as usual. Coffee drunk, a day to attack. I wanted to see what happened So, I worked up a huge yawn. The yawn went around the bus. Once all did it, the yawn was gone. I did it often, totally on purpose. Just a thing I do to amuse us.
I saw in a movie a man stopped Carefully looked up into the sky It stopped the foot traffic that day They looked up too, I had to try. I stood on the corner the next day Down on Twelfth and Main Street. Firmly I stood in the madding crowd. I looked up, and they did as well, And things quickly got quite loud. It was amazing how quickly it swelled.
The yawn thing works on the job If you want to give it your own try. It works on desk mates, bosses And even on people passing by. The looking up thing also works But bosses come and get strong And stop your foolish game by Saying that you should move along. They don’t know what you’re doing. They just know it has to be wrong.