In A Cave We Played Poetry in a cave we made we drank wine and thought of time , of tragic wind up birds, of school yard slides on top we watch the moon and hold hands there is no way down only up, metropolitan expressway number three ichikawa Sakhalin Island In a cave we played Plato I burned candles and you wept for the Galyaks Seyit Ali I am the Sheep Farmer. I understand nothing. I thought I did. But all I know is the cello. All I know is what I feel, what my heart holds and hides. Feel your toes. In a Cave we played Plato In a cave we made we drank wine and thought of time tragic wind up birds, school yard slides on top we watch the moon and hold hands there is no way down only up, metropolitan expressway number three ichikawa Sakhalin Island in a cave we played Plato I burned candles and you wept for the Galyaks Seyit Ali, Koyunbaba I am the Sheep Farmer -Jacks We took sticks and wrote our names We drank water and it turned into purple rain We ran into rivers of thought And sought and sought We return to the cave Every time -Magoski each and every time -Jacks We follow the sheep. They herd us up the cliffs of steep The sky opens up to the underworld To Dionysus dining on our desire Our desire to thrive Each and every time All I know is what I feel Melancolia and the herbs of thyme Time and Myrrh The essence of existence Of belief Of being -Magoski silence hums quickens like flame silhouette of the Tragic in this cave we made on this slide we sat upon looking up at not one but two, Moons ... I imagined myself underneath looking through the water I am the drowning, the tragedy, the dead undone, oh but how is desire so connected to each and every each and every each and every beat of your heart Esther Jacks I can hear it in us In every being Even the moon pulses in my heart I imagine the earth inside out How the molten would feel so exposed.. Is it possible to feel empathy for the rocks? Do they scream out like my want for water? Can they feel us in their caves? I think wine tastes better in a stone bowl Gritty.. beating.. -Magoski I came upon Dionysus, the juices of us smeared about his mouth, our shadows crunchy flakes splattered about, our blood, his wine our dreams his flesh. - Youd think wed not celebrate the rituals of canniblism, youd think wed seek comedy, not tragedy youd think that if we counted sheep we surely fall off cliffs into sleep Youd think wed know perhaps, wed bestoy. a token, of Tuva, of metropolitan expresseway number three. In a Cave we played Plato. I was fire and you were shadow In a cave we played innocence we drank the wine, and welcomed the intrusion of tragedy. I placed my hand on the edge of your shores smoothed by time and the lapping of waters and tides and you drank me. Your fill. You danced in my glow. In a Cave we played Plato. -Jacks The darkness is a coat to some And a cold to others.. The silhouette of my life is as dark As the grey area in that cave. Yes tragic. Because I can not see the moon.. Only its reflection. In a cave we played Plato. I was fire and you were shadow. We were spark and shadow. After a Godard film. And then the tide came up and as slowly as honey dripping down my arm It removed the sea urchins from the rocks and as they wept. They left their caves. ..We left too. -Magoski Be Gone! -Jacks Release the Runes! Let them speak and practice their ways. Do not fear what you do not understand. Walk into it. Eat it. All of the grapes. -Magoski cellos like roots like bees to pollen like piano keys across a field of shallow cello strings, tears, tears, drip down one at a time can you find me? without fire to light me? In this Cave. In Platos Cave, without one, the Other is None -Jacks We drank wine And thought of time. We wished for a way To start a fire. To light the way To pave the tilted spire -Magoski Les Gouttes de Dieu tragique magick -Prince time. space. is everything the cave. gave. gives. lives. scientific. or not. magnetic. of course. aluminum ladders never lasted under that heat. rock. throat knot. first kiss. stumble upon stained glass. hieroglyphics. layered by beautiful portraits. yes, its the cave. its the mother nurturin cave. where oil and emulsion mix. impression. often overlooked. and passed by. b ut not ignored when youre in store for human interaction. -Jacks Tre Trieste Composed of a magnetic web All metal and heat Returns to the mother And the humans walk in For something Something is in the dark ..a single hummingbird doth spark A flame This thing draws near It can not be ignored. -Prince tears. reflect. not the shiny, but the dull. -Magoski And then she calls to me, I can hear it in us In every being . Even the moon pulses in my heart I imagine the earth inside out How the molten would feel so exposed.. so inside out. so pliable so manageable, so in need of an afternoon by the Hotel Pool. Is it possible to feel empathy for the rocks? Do they scream out like my want for water? Like my want for the Moon? Can they feel us in their caves? I think wine tastes better in a stone bowl Its Gritty.. its beating.. like a heart, like dart, like a jumpstart, like Mozart like a Go cart, Like nothing I ever saw, was nothing you ever did, was anything we ever were, And I came upon Dionysus, the juices of us smeared about his mouth, dripping, tangible evidence of our communinon, our joint venture, our shadows now, crunchy flakes, splattered about, our blood, his wine, our dreams, his flesh. Youd think wed not celebrate the rituals of canniblism, of capitalism, of baptism of heptides and chlorides and piecemeal bovine servitude, youd think wed seek comedy, not tragedy, youd think that if we counted sheep we surely fall off cliffs into sleep Youd think wed know perhaps, wed bestoy. a token, of Elkins, of fliesher, of metropolitan expresseway number three. In a Cave we drank Plato. I was fire and you were shadow In a cave we played innocence we drank the wine, and welcomed the intrusion of tragedy. I placed my hand on the edge of you and I drank my fill and still it was not enough. In a Cave we played Plato. yes, she says, We drank the wine,and then she pauses. and I wait and we all wait, under the reflection of a moon we never see, of a moon we know is there, of a moon we dream to dare, of a place we cannot stare, oh, how it is, we wait for the train to hide the thunder of this tragedy, this tearful, cello, serenade, are you done?,she says. and I pause. Good, she says, and then she adds, And we thought of time.
Posted on: Wed, 02 Apr 2014 19:15:28 +0000
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