I am made of…

Aside

I am made of..

 

Yes, this feeling is real…

Year after year, watching the sky

change colors; Blue, red, green,

black,

Holding my breath,

while time stood still.

 

Yet, always looking to feel…

Those years gone by;

roses turned into colorless statues

while the seasons changed

and the cancer left.

 

Now I hold an apple whose memories I peel…

Nurses, whom I owe the tree that bore my fruit,

and then took it away.

These seeds I plant,

tucked.. No, buried, far, far under the ground.

 

In Spring these buried memories, they would heal…

The frost turned into water

and melted the pain away.

The seeds became trees;

magnificent nurses of nature.

And yet, here I remained.

Waiting for the winter, again.

 

Four years later, an envelope I seal…

Inside, a memory guiding my every move.

Well… guided.

A mailbox made of other times and places.

But, this is now, this is different.

 

Like infinite summer days; skies of teal…

no more sorrow, no more rain.

No, a different thought this time,

 

I am made of steel…

There will be another year (Jbeggs)

Pools of Plasma, Day 1

Mellow drooling pools of light. Shimmering in the melancholy that exists, like somewhere in an alternate universe there is a person laying in the stillness of purgatory.

That point at which the tide has caught up with the water. An incredible timing that happens every day. Only one place to be and that place can’t be here, can it? So many ways to understand the world. Might there be no way to understand the world? The tide happens every day but never hits the same level twice.

I suppose it is possible that we could be that small and insignificant that the universe is a place where any meaning we try to get out of life shoots away from us at millions of lightyears per second. Lost somewhere in the infinite darkness that surrounds us.

Could stars just be reflections of our own thoughts? I mean, even our senses can’t even tell us the truth. They make mere guesses by what they take in and what our brain interprets. Do we go to the stars when we sleep? Is that possible?

I find that often I have so many questions. The problem is that even if I search for the answer and find it I never know for sure if it is in fact, the answer. How can I if everything is relative?

Also, something happens every four years. Like some kind of time warp. It’s similar to one of those cars with a broken transmission that only moves forward, and if you try to go into reverse the whole thing explodes into irretrievable bits of plasma. Yeah, just like that.

Well, I guess I can assume then, that I’m not getting any of those lost pieces back.

Plasma….