SINKING SUNS, THE DAWN OF TIME AND THE SUNKEN MOON by RJBG, literature
Literature
SINKING SUNS, THE DAWN OF TIME AND THE SUNKEN MOON
Diamond mire and the opal skies Lunar landscapes, solar eclipse Magnetic fields Polar caps Aurora, the northern and southern lights Bipolar encompass Silver halos And the ghost moon Pulsars, worm holes, gamma rays and shooting stars Supernovas, exploding into the black Blinding lights, futility the naked eye And the age of reason Suspended animation, expansion, passages in the night and the mind's eye Gravity, grand design, alchemy, treason Fool's gold and a runaway universe If not for the love of God Angel in a space suit Adam and Eve Cupid's bow and arrow, drawn Shoot an apple off my head
Chapel on the ridge of ruin and graveyards of the damned Scarecrow on the the hill, a ravens claw in his withered hand Points the way, To cotton candy, strawberry berry laced fields of corn and fire Moonshine, spirit ghost on the rise Of lunar eclipse and lost souls of bonfires burning in the midnight sky
That Part Of Photography by sesam-is-open, literature
Literature
That Part Of Photography
I've always loved that part of the photography that is not clearly visible,
That is why now, I please you to write me a letter.
I want a letter with the bent edges where the words overlap and the meanings become clear,
A letter written from the mosaic of your heart.
Because the mosaic is in many colors, I want each room of your heart to have different splashes.
I don't want you to tell me that I'm beautiful ...
I don't want you to tell me why you stopped and crossed the street in my life,
I don't want you to tell me anything that has ever been said before,
But I want all the words to be open to the truth and to slide smoothly from the bent
I am the lost and final hanging man,
That love worn card you deal beneath the root.
You place me on a dark and looming land
With a gilded noose slipped around my foot.
Silver coins tossed, betrayed against the sand,
A final kiss that finds its way to roost.
And you shall eat and swallow all my sins
And spin the earth where simple men begin.
Come with me.
In the truncated grays and browns of fading light time passes,
Well beyond these leagues of descent.
And as you walk . . .
As you cross the river in your leaky boots . . .
As you grasp my hands to clear the bank . . .
Perhaps we could sit in our shadows,
Under this leaky tree
for a while.
Perhaps we could wait it out.
(The ascension, I mean.)
I mean, before we claim a direction and all.
Before we forget where we came from.
Elena followed me home
from work one night
and stayed for tea and eggs,
and all that minimum wage
and wars between the sheets
could bring.
She said she was a goddess,
daughter of a carpenter
with her long red, red hair
and eyes as warm as hazel nuts
on Christmas morning.
Her hands spoke braille
across my back
and made the silence
of Sunday into a prophecy.
She left one October
just like she said she would
when the fireflies
had turned their wings to ash.
And I found revelation
in red, red wine
and cheap red, red fabric
that came off in my hands
like summer.
My fever dream.
It's the same one every time.
I start falling...
into kaleidoscope colors
in the cereal aisle
at the grocery store.
I'm short. Two feet tall.
With skinny arms the length of javelin poles.
But with tiny hands and fingers pushing
a Plymouth station wagon- size shopping cart.
The cart is very, very heavy.
I keep trying to advance the cart
never reaching any destination.
It's all so tedious.
My javelin poles
keep extending towards the cereal boxes.
Like "Go- Go Gadget arms",
way before that cartoon ever existed.
That's what's scary.
Nothing ever ends up in my cart.
All I really want
is an ice cold glass of Hawaiian Punc