Five minutes free write.
10:12 AM Edit This 1 Comment »
From the inside out everything is all wrong. You look like a dorwning man standing in that puddle, she says.
She says.
He says.
They say.
He says.
She says.
Are you hearing this???
copy that...
cycle it over.
Relax.
Repeat.
The passage of time is a fickle thing. One moment your up to your head in fireweed the next thing you know it your up to you knees in books. In and out and in between pages, places, faces.
So many different races going on right now. I'm not sure which ones I'm racing. I'm not sure which one's I've lost or won or am just standing on the side-lines cheering.
"Boy, why are you crying?"
Lost your shadow again. Well I won't sow that sucker back on. Drift on guiltless. Get swept away among the stars. Scream your freedom. Sing your shame. Stutter all the in betweens and you-know-whats and all those secrets lying precariously inbetween your lips.
Sometimes your fingers hit the keys and spill secrets that aren't even yours. Sometimes you start typing and the rhy-rhy-rhythm catches you so off guard you start writing something and you have no idea what it means. The sound of your subconscious is a powerful thing.
Let that lion roar, baby.
And sometimes you get so lost at Staring at the stars you miss all the rockets sailing just past your head.
Don't wish on shooting stars. Wish on stars that have the courage to shine where they are.
Nature whispers secrets in the wind and if you're quiet you can hear them. The pitter-patter of fox feet on the lawn always reminds me of spring time, even in the fall.
Somedays you wake up with hairpins and bow ties. Sometimes you wake up with lives (lies) sprawling out at your fingertips and you don't know what to do so you WRITE. Right.
You write the wrongs or the wrongs write you and you right the wrongs and you fight the write but you can't fight the right because write always wins and you right yourself up just to see your head spin and you write the right that you want to be right but it always ends up coming out wrong and
there we go.
Another deja vu.
Did you know, I can see angels kissing the devil inside of you.
The truest miracle of All.
And you can't get the record out of your head that keeps spinning and saying ALL WARS START IN OUR HEARTS AND THAT'S WHERE THEY SHOULD BE FOUGHT and you can't stop dreaming of this and that and the other where you right the wrongs where there is PEACE ON EARTH and GOODWILL TOWARDS MEN and all that stuff everyone remembers at christmas but forgets the other eleven and a half months of the year.
Did you know in World War One on Christmas at a battle field two enemies who were shooting each other the day before played a game of soccer together? The next day, they blew each other to smitherines.
I don't understand.
The ins and outs of ins and outs of ins and outs of in and outs of in in in and out out out
Please. Please. Please.
you write what you think before your mihnd can digest it and end up throwing up everything that doesn't make sense at the moment.
Did you know, I can see the devil kissing angels inside of you
And look
look
look
on this day a savior is born
and on this day a kingdom is born
and on this day a star is born
and on this day a doctor
and a lawyer
and a mother
and a boy destined to murder
they're all born.
Everyone born.
Living
breathing
Oxygen
the ins and outs of breath in your lungs an automatic response from your brain --- the will to live --- oxygen becoming carbon dioxiode becoming food for plants becoming food for you again and again and again
Up.
Down.
Up.
Lungs upon lungs of movement. A breath of wind (God's whisper).
And all of a sudden you lean closer and say, look at this, look at this, a perfect snowflake.
And I once thought that if you had perfection in your hand it would stay there
But all it does is
melt
away
the moment you grab hold of it.
I once saw a perfect flower
but I passed it by
and left it
for someone else
to pick
and play
games.
She says.
He says.
They say.
He says.
She says.
Are you hearing this???
copy that...
cycle it over.
Relax.
Repeat.
The passage of time is a fickle thing. One moment your up to your head in fireweed the next thing you know it your up to you knees in books. In and out and in between pages, places, faces.
So many different races going on right now. I'm not sure which ones I'm racing. I'm not sure which one's I've lost or won or am just standing on the side-lines cheering.
"Boy, why are you crying?"
Lost your shadow again. Well I won't sow that sucker back on. Drift on guiltless. Get swept away among the stars. Scream your freedom. Sing your shame. Stutter all the in betweens and you-know-whats and all those secrets lying precariously inbetween your lips.
Sometimes your fingers hit the keys and spill secrets that aren't even yours. Sometimes you start typing and the rhy-rhy-rhythm catches you so off guard you start writing something and you have no idea what it means. The sound of your subconscious is a powerful thing.
Let that lion roar, baby.
And sometimes you get so lost at Staring at the stars you miss all the rockets sailing just past your head.
Don't wish on shooting stars. Wish on stars that have the courage to shine where they are.
Nature whispers secrets in the wind and if you're quiet you can hear them. The pitter-patter of fox feet on the lawn always reminds me of spring time, even in the fall.
Somedays you wake up with hairpins and bow ties. Sometimes you wake up with lives (lies) sprawling out at your fingertips and you don't know what to do so you WRITE. Right.
You write the wrongs or the wrongs write you and you right the wrongs and you fight the write but you can't fight the right because write always wins and you right yourself up just to see your head spin and you write the right that you want to be right but it always ends up coming out wrong and
there we go.
Another deja vu.
Did you know, I can see angels kissing the devil inside of you.
The truest miracle of All.
And you can't get the record out of your head that keeps spinning and saying ALL WARS START IN OUR HEARTS AND THAT'S WHERE THEY SHOULD BE FOUGHT and you can't stop dreaming of this and that and the other where you right the wrongs where there is PEACE ON EARTH and GOODWILL TOWARDS MEN and all that stuff everyone remembers at christmas but forgets the other eleven and a half months of the year.
Did you know in World War One on Christmas at a battle field two enemies who were shooting each other the day before played a game of soccer together? The next day, they blew each other to smitherines.
I don't understand.
The ins and outs of ins and outs of ins and outs of in and outs of in in in and out out out
Please. Please. Please.
you write what you think before your mihnd can digest it and end up throwing up everything that doesn't make sense at the moment.
Did you know, I can see the devil kissing angels inside of you
And look
look
look
on this day a savior is born
and on this day a kingdom is born
and on this day a star is born
and on this day a doctor
and a lawyer
and a mother
and a boy destined to murder
they're all born.
Everyone born.
Living
breathing
Oxygen
the ins and outs of breath in your lungs an automatic response from your brain --- the will to live --- oxygen becoming carbon dioxiode becoming food for plants becoming food for you again and again and again
Up.
Down.
Up.
Lungs upon lungs of movement. A breath of wind (God's whisper).
And all of a sudden you lean closer and say, look at this, look at this, a perfect snowflake.
And I once thought that if you had perfection in your hand it would stay there
But all it does is
melt
away
the moment you grab hold of it.
I once saw a perfect flower
but I passed it by
and left it
for someone else
to pick
and play
games.
1 comments:
weird.
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