Tuesday, August 25, 2009
knowing it will come
All is optional when you can’t see an end. I will float on the river knowing it never ends. From the sky to the mountain, to the river, to the sea, to the sky, circular if not secular. My pencil isn’t very sharp; I will burn it to create charcoal. Today I will most defiantly be better, as if I knew my mother was here. Over the vista is a pasture where ponies play with handcuffed inmates of the chosen one’s. Possibly a penny for a dollar, but not likely. A place to put your sanity and know it is in good hands is often mistaken for a nuisance. I still apply the same rules as Picasso. Call a feather a part of a bird and a bird an animal with feathers. Prepare for what is to come knowing “I” is more important then “IT”. Guidance is a pin and a wall, place it and drop a string until it hits bottom, and wonder if she really meant anything at the time. If you look in a circle guess who you find? I have a mother and I love her, and I know she knows because we talk, when there is nothing to say and we sit when the most important of events occurs. Open the chute this is an unmanned vessel. Brown eyes, hallow heart, empty shoes, cook it until it smokes and call it done. I will hold your place as the orchestra conductor for the time when you want to play again. For now I will prey on small animals and force feed them copper. Remember today is only one day short of tomorrow.