For the first time in the history of mind, In the untouched endless open ocean of think Rhyme designed itself raw, torn straight from form, Feeling folded form in the warm rich womb coral reef of dream, With the power of the line, splitting sea from sky, Blushed by the glow of the vast golden dawn, Star birth, heaven sigh, Suns first yawn, Picture properly the scene; Self-constructed vessel , Blackened by the void, gleaming, dripping pristine, Bursting buoyant through the self-silent shimmering sea, Billowing, quivering, shivering with hunger, burning with purpose, Inflating with the supreme elation of creation, steam Rippling the placid precious preconscious water surface, Supernatural speed slicing to horizon, Covering the cake of life with delicious wish filled icing, Unsteady but ready to slake thirst first and then mate, make, take and predate to satiate, Sharpened in a hunting state, certain catch sought, Flesh feeding deeply needed fuel to propagate, Rhyme vessel sunk hook line cast and caught, The glittering Iridian rare fat fish of thought…. So with the thought fish cooked fresh. Famished rhyme mind fed digest, Corporeal invested essence, Sustenance manifested substance, Body born, no more lovelorn now loving linking lines, Rhyme self-conceived begat the mind, Began to build its body, body built the body mind, From the first potential ocean, Latent liquid genesis potion, Primordial briny poet afloat – on rocking rowing boat began and spoke, Uttered gifted wishes, great ambition fish in motion, Lifted from the frothing foam and surf on ocean, Their nascent tracery of flippers, Flapped to fly aloft, new creative creatures feathered, Inspiring sails on the acorn boat, Where the word working wind washed poet sat content to gloat, For the vessel grew grandly to a great tree like ship of oak, Main masts ascended quick through sky, Encircled in a spiral high by these first fish bird thoughts soaring dry, Painting canvas clouds aloud, writing with the aerial ink of hope, Intricate elegant sentences of shimmering rope, Rigging stanzas across the pale blue, Magisterial thoughts in rapture freely swam and flew, The smiling sky ordained this drama by blushing seamlessly through, Lemon-green and orange golden to a deepening rose-red hue, That flecked a cumulous pageant pink which faded in a blink of ages, Til sighing out of sight, all colour fled from night, Now hosting this unique incarnate mind, From horizon to horizon silver constellations silent clockwork gears grind, Driven by, beneath all things, the starry dynamo of time. --------------------------+++++++----------------------- Weary from becoming he is gently rocked to sleep, By the lulling motion of the tide, ballasted with pride, Cradled in his own palpable creation, Momentary sanctuary of emptied head perfection….. --------------------------++++++++------------------------- It is not time to lie in the dark and think things, Or to sky lark up the mast in the blue rigging to sing, But to dive steep into the deep black wet, Past the fast sharks, fish shoals and nets, Twist in the abyss with a heavy breath held, Under the world in the turgid swells, My chest pressed released a full breath of bubbles, Which, expelled, ascend to seek the surface, Down with strong strokes for my marine purpose, To break the spells that clamp shells of clams that hold pearls, Clutching handfuls of pristine aquatic jewels, Some slip from my hand and are claimed by the sand, With my bounty held tight I return to sunlight, Kicking hard as I rise to break the surface for the sky, On the tall-ship deck the pearls gleam wet, Then begin to deliquesce on the boards where they rest, As they melt into the wood of the ship where I’m stood, I see the planks petrify before my sore eyes, Until the entire ship’s crystalized pearlescent and bright, White sails billow and fill with chill wind, I clutch the crystal keel of my Iridian vessel, And head for the red horizon across the invisible meridian line. ------------------------+++++++------------------------ A great grid imposed over the whole world, Old, green, gold pale blue home, globe Held by the mental hand of man, Gripped and tamed by the same, A sane climbing frame for an evolved apes brain, Crossing this projected boundary of time, Defined by the left side of the human mind, Driven by the tyranny of the straight line, The straight line necessary to measure and mine- treasure of the earth, quantify to commodify, So this left-side linear limiting line, Continues to carve, conquer and divide, I feel pride for the power of geometry, As the graceful, petrified ship cuts quick, Slick crystalline clipper riding the high tide, A thing is think just a unit of thought, The woven world chosen, precisely broken – into units to be sold and bought, But also combined for creative design, Iterating configurations, process refined, So no surprise that this linear measuring obsession, Had us half blind from forgetting that quality also qualifies, As a mode of measure incorporating pleasure as a reason, For labelling life’s pieces as aesthetically pleasing, --------------------======---------------------
Posted on: Tue, 18 Jun 2013 00:10:10 +0000
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