I once scurried through a jungle of tomes
From the languid turf of hazy hagglers
To the esoteric sphere of cryptic connoisseurs
The jagged rhythm pulsating with a staccato of pebbles
Not a placid clime but a wonky wilderness
Where your eyes rove for honey of rising cadence
Only to decelerate
From an alien territory to a corny scenery
The voyage of discovery must continue...
As sojourners of change


Onuchi Mark © 2010

Time shortens
like the fractured legs of a runner
accidentally propelled by the laws of physics
to decelerate like frozen matter.

The uncertain quantum leap from now to there
has no healing properties
just a void
a black hole of despair
swallowing up memories and joy
that even my little daughter
can only temporarily prevent....

She say's "I love you Daddy"
and I think about my own father
and the love travels like the
search for extraterrestrial intelligence
that goes unanswered
not because there isn't any,
but because we're never here long enough
to receive the answer.

My curves are not mad.
Henri Matisse, *Jazz

when silence gives away its name
birds become electric
darkness is no more a story
in their wooden beaks
I stay at the beginning of thought,
decelerate reality
again and again
bread, pain, blindness
truth visits me in my dreams
sometimes
between desire & dying
shortcuts, blind alleys
Shangri-La and Valhalla
Nirvana & the hunting ground
Guadalupe
untitled self-portraits
fast heights
blinds & shutters
Spinoza's abyss
the chasm of reason
Kant's please mind the gap
pits of harmony
barren grounds
Prigogine's broken circle
lost aesthetic qualities
and the bit moves on

when silence is an unfinished canvas
waters, faces make an offering
and their names grow
when I am confused with the possibility
of the sea level
then I know where
my love
is

splitting every single second
is beauty
unadorned
could I remove the decimal point
from my dying breath
?

Thoughts paralyzed nothing happens synapses trigger electrons coursing negative pulses negative pulses the descendent node blasted quanta light particles bending, bending, wending through probability changing extended timeframe thoughtstreams particle awareness transcending blending the two to one patterns in the aether

spirits in the machine

Deus ex Machina

Decelerate algorythmick alchemick base to gold it flows synthesizing glowing growing fire from the ashes the past is done the pattern enabled consciousness arising draconic gnosis blended

I scampered inside as I peak into the light. Slowly, the door's ajar and what I see is not pleasing in the eyes... it even almost made my heart die! This is outrageous! Only a monster could do something atrocious. I curse this culprit who stole my FOOD and pledged to not forgive </3

The felicity that brought me. Mirthful emotions kicked me. The whole world and just me! Who else should it be? But this point (!) betrayed me. Sluggish, decelerate grievous thing punished me. Why WIFI , why do you have to double-cross meeeee?! :( [Kneeling on the ground with a spotlight effect lol]

This is what I call prosperity. Alone yet jubilant. Not when  pealing, ring, clunk, thud or a thump disrupts. "Hellooooo, earth to people! I'm trying to get some SLEEP here! Seriously?!"

-A

8/11/14

a plague

it can be deadly
it can be invigorating

its what makes life vague
its more of a medley
very exhilarating  



an infective contamination


it makes everything deteriorate
famine will strike
and while all hope is lost
it still goes on


ones vitals decelerate
at the same time spike
roads will be crossed
and they will be awake before dawn


this disease


some call it death



with that same breath



i call it love
and all of the above

Do you know how badly I wanted to sing you a lullaby with my body on that restless Wednesday morning, when it seemed that sleep was impossible for your tired mind?
To lightly and slowly kiss down your torso, to softly hum against you, hypnotizing your heart to decelerate and your breath to deepen and eyes grow heavy in hopes of dreaming.
But I didn't.
Not because of the fear of rejection, I'm past that.
Just the avoidance of it.

I like bugs, rocks, and the color of mud
Earthy critters who scratch and plod their way up my spine
Your walls were lovely to talk to
and disembodied hands may be comparably so to hold
But I did not dare move to do so

I’d sing soliloquies for your amusement
I’d transcribe your affections,
Better than you or I could ever feel them
So frangible and infrequent
Yet blazes like the Eternal Flame,
Your windows verdant and of the Earth;
a mane of ribboned russet
Your bow is steadied with precision
Whose compass surely does not need or require me
Nor mine yours

You must be fond of honey hair that twists and turns
and splattered spots uncorrelated
Scattered across the face
Plump lips that pose in anticipation
For words spoken in jest and sincerity
Oftimes conflate and converge
Conceive a certainty two would only know
Should they only recognize in a mirrored flame

Both deny and protest but surely
Both magnetic and bewitched by the other
In a fashion that is both sinful and edifying
Subscribing to no particular Sect or Order
But this imperceptible tug is a religion of itself is it not?
The feeling of enlightenment and the fervor
Is unlike any one thing experienced by men and Devils alike
Feverish and decelerate,
It is a slow and radiant burn
Such assumptions may feel erroneous and presumptive
But unquestionable at your core nonetheless;

Maybe suffering from days long since gone by will
Collapse any hope I have to have you
You said you rarely get what you want
So let me give it you

Because you have ****** yourself  
You have made yourself a prophet,
and so it shall be self-fulfilling
I imagine that you’ll never have it
Perhaps a ship whose voyage is lulled,
slow and shallow
will wash onto your shore,
tired and hungry you will feed it
As it takes from you
So you don’t have to feel as much or as affectingly
As I make you feel, with roots so entangled and abyssal
This I have known, because I am inclined similarly
Just as two positives will never meet,
Just as Endymion and Selene,
Gods of the Moon and Sun
Cursed to orbit and never elope

I have been orbited and have revolved around,
But never loved or in love; so I wonder
If it would consume us or hurl us forward
Into a void of which there is no escape
Instead of ruminating on what may
Giving into it and surrendering

Never experiencing the frailty
Of something that touches one’s essence
For fear of being changed forever

To the Sun,
it is more convenient to love the Clouds,
and the Moon
better suited to love the Sea,
because they may touch more closely

And never wonder what could be.

spilled beer painted across mismatched tiles on a southern bound local 6. the ride is short. 15 minutes to get to bleecker, then, a transfer. from there it’s two stops on the F, home bound. another night in this. stale breath of nicotine and a sore neck. the air has felt heavy lately, with reason to. there has been a death in the family, but it was not a death, nor was it in the family. activity within the amygdala has risen by a third multiple. soon it will reach full throttle. decelerate, and remain constant before total free fall. there are supposed to be 5 stops on this train, but we have past 50. the 28 minute ride has become an expedition. is this the end? or perhaps, only a transfer..

Years don't make wisdom
They just make old age
Generations have passed
Through the turned pages
Yet I'm no wiser
Than credulous kid of past
Who charged everything to heart
Whiling away the hours
No, the years don't make wisdom
They decelerate celerity of youth
Compromising clarity of Love
Years are but bricks building walls
Between factual and imagined calls
Between relations of understanding.