Its 11:30 pm.
Captivate me.
I want to squeeze your face and see wide eyes.
I want to see a green ring cut into thin sectors and a pupil so small you could squeeze an atom out if the room just gets a bit brighter.
Taste the fruit.
Take the medicine.
Feel your toes curl and your weight cease to matter.
Feel your worries vanish.
Feel your wings flap and your feathers shine.
Feel the black reproduce beneath your lids.
Make your whites disappear and lend the black your wings.
Let the crow go and your torso fall.
Watch the crow as the crow flies; from above.
Chart its course.
Check the time.
In six or seven hours you'll be just fine.
Arizona to Malaysia to Mars.
From mountaintops to crowded rooms with pulsating lights.
Watch the bird get the worm.
See as its mouth opens.
Inside you could find the same bright wide eyes you owned.
Cut into tiny green sectors with a pupil so small your could squeeze an atom out, but this time the room is a little bit brighter out of its own accord.
So you do squeeze the atom out.
You hold it in your hand and watch it blossom into a fledgling planet.
In fact; the same one you're on.
Spin the globe in your hand.
Imitate the sun making its daily course.
God of a planet in your own mind in your own body on the same planet represented in your hands.
Split the water.
Walk through.
Hear it crash behind you.
You are Moses and you are Moses's God.
God of a planet in your own mind.
Formed by past experiences.
Created by synapses.
In your own brain.
Housed in your own thick skull.
Placed at the top of your own weak spine.
Which makes up the central nervous system of your own limp body.
Laying on your own couch.
In your own world.
Made by your own God.
Stand up.
Feel the breeze.
Feel at ease.
Its 6:30am.
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7 comments:
I am not sure what you're going for, I could see it being really abstract. But possibly something more put together. Organize your thoughts, not just random lines. Not sure if it flows well enough for a poem or a short story.
Matt I don't understand how you construct these things. It is poetry right? I don't know poetry. I just know that your writing always makes me visualize very strange things -- which is awesome. Everything i've read by you is the same sort of stlye but the feels are completely different. It's kind of like every piece you write is a different color. This pieces color is: Seafoam Green. Let me know when you want to get started on your screenplay, you can use my screenwriting software if you don't have any on campus, or you just want to come down and chill in tempe.
Drugs?
We live together, we act on, and react to, one another; but always and in all circumstances we are by ourselves. The martyrs go hand in hand into the arena; they are crucified alone. Embraced, the lovers desperately try to fuse their insulated ecstasies into a single self-transcendence; in vain. By its very nature every embodied spirit is doomed to suffer and enjoy in solitude. Sensations, feelings, insights, fancies - all these are private and, except through symbols and at second hand, incommunicable. We can pool information about experiences, but never the experiences themselves. From family to nation, every human group is a society of island universes. Most island universes are sufficiently like one another to Permit of inferential understanding or even of mutual empathy or "feeling into." Thus, remembering our own bereavements and humiliations, we can condole with others in analogous circumstances, can put ourselves (always, of course, in a slightly Pickwickian sense) in their places. But in certain cases communication between universes is incomplete or even nonexistent. The mind is its own place, and the Places inhabited by the insane and the exceptionally gifted are so different from the places where ordinary men and women live, that there is little or no common ground of memory to serve as a basis for understanding or fellow feeling. Words are uttered, but fail to enlighten. The things and events to which the symbols refer belong to mutually exclusive realms of experience.
unf unf unf
Matt, I totally am visualizing something alright, but not sure it's the same as what you are seeing.
Love your Cuz,
CC
I agree with your friend who says "abstract"
I can see the abstraction, but there are some pretty good hints at the subject. 6 or 7 hours you'll be fine? From Arizona to Malaysia to Mars? the pupils with the personal planet waiting to squeezed out? This is about LSD, I think. And it's ability to teach you that can shape your world from within your mind. Perception is everything, and with the right lessons, you can transcend all this depressing bullshit this country and society in general feeds us. I like it, but if you want criticism, I think you outta focus just a little more on rhythm. I don't mean to create something from a poetry template or whatever, but just adding a subtle flow to it helps poetry a lot in my opinion.
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