When Nature Sleeps

If everything could bend like a river well
There'd be a million more like you who register so well
-On target; is a connection real or indefinable?
And some yearning heart would ask you to tell
Whether or not the world is temporary or sustainable

They'd have eyes like rock beads on a riverbed, I think, sparkling with one white dot underneath the sun. I'd watch the sky rush over as the water sled down into the forest, behind the shade of a thousand leaves. Everything would melt and bend, wouldn't it?

Or the sun above with fructose stars?
Cheery red or sun dried like golden wheat?

I thought that, if I opened my eyes, it would all disappear. The smell of coffee brewing would wake me surely, wouldn't it? Or the sounds of popping cherries, smoke filling the air, the wind smashing leaves and Spring flowers against my window; all of it was coming at me as if to wake me from this sleep. Before I woke up I wondered if it would change anything, to see this world instead of the other one, instead of any other world. I turned over.

In great light: the sun beamed past my eyelids and painted my unconscious orange. I told myself that I had no choice but that was a lie: we all do, and that's the truth. Choice to choose which would, choice to rise out of bed. Fatalists would argue different, but they've chosen what to believe. Everyone does, and that choice effects how they live. Maybe they chose to believe they have no choice, that the way the stars aligned made them do what they were going to do, or everything is just being played out and they're stuck in this inescapable world of cause and effect.

Would we ever be able to know? Science has told us several stories, each one against the last as we revise ourselves into higher forms of logic. What I wanted to know, really wanted to know, is whether or not it's all a moot point. To try to overcome our limitation in perspective, that is.

I chose to wake up, and all the silly little things came ringing back into my face; red against white fabric. To get up and continue despite the absurdity of our situation. And all that seems left to hang onto in the world was left in the budding leaves outside of my window; the nature that grew despite itself.

One day, maybe, I'll get to awake to the reflection of the world in some one else's eyes.

60 Seconds in the Morning.

In a way I saw only the beginning. Stars that poured from mouths in the dead of night, or how their faces all slightly twitched. Every thought that was in my mind seemed to speak too truly to me, too honest. In my mind streets and trees rushed passed and the wind whipped me in the face; the sky was our ocean and we rode the waves of the land on and on and on. For once I didn't know where I was, only the it was earth and that I was a pure human. For once I felt no doubt of what was real and surreal, no doubt about my projection to others, nor any fear of failure, misguidance, or simply being wrong. Everything was merry and yellow like the sun, and our faces beamed on the highway. School again until it would never end. I never saw myself or my eyes.

For once I felt as though I was just inside of my own body.

Being the beginning, the sun came over and spilled it's light into our apartment living room. Beautiful people sang through our speakers and people cooked food or tried to write and draw and paint. Study for tests, go to school, quit a job, and cleaned up messes. As human beings, people are entitled to small meaningless gestures that, for whatever reason, still effect them despite their meaninglessness. Maybe it's because everyone is an existentialist even if they don't know it, displacing their own ego and soul into things to give them meaning in their own sense, whether or not they actually created it themselves. It all comes back into them raising their awareness in some imagined way, shifting their universe a few inches to the left or the right. Screams subside and the woods whistle as the wind blows through them and I

I feel it come through me and wash me clean, and like everyone, I am born again.

Untitled Song

Seems to me i desperately
Need a face to set me free
Words like water from her mouth
Telling me i should head south

Though the ocean overflows
I see no one who speaks or knows
Of any fields or brooks or groves
Only boxes, sinks and stoves

Seems to me i'd rather need
Heights of blue and a hit of speed
And yet nothing will ever be
Like something we cannot see

In applying all my thoughts
I saw the trees lose all their leaves
(There's a just a few that became lost)
Fell to the floor and swarmed like bees

Seems to me i want to be
Only everything endlessly
If i held the sun in my palm
Id' be with you
And i'd be calm