Oh how the loveless are scorned. By themselves and their lonely beds, their take away meals, their confused heads that rack and wrangle as to why their fate would lead them in this lonely place.
Oh how the loveless are mocked. By their hand that searches sex below and dreams of someone who would show compassion and love.
And how they laugh false mirth and crave a hug to hold their delicate soul trapped for eternity within the bounds created by their own foolish stupidity.
I walk up the hill. I see your shadow next to me. Dreaming of solidarity. Dreaming of the next sunny place we could stop in unity and smile and recognize the silence of the view that beckons the eye to the distant mountains. Nothing between us save me and you. My shadow, my friend, my past spent, my future repetition curses the air like the wind through the trees calling your name to save these words…
We flew, we fell, we breathed the purest air, the perfect mix. We fed on the honey and all we should, we drank our fill, the water of life itself. Spoiled, beguiled, confused at the ease by which we could gauge the success bestowed upon the fragile web of surety. Our sobriety waned whilst the party raged, the dance span faster and faster. Spinning tops supported by the centrifuge- convinced it would never stop. Tricked by your eyes as we stare and spin, stare and spin, the world a blur but for you, hands held tight, knuckles white, never to let go, or so we thought. But then as always, inevitability must occur. The trick tripped on dizzy legs buckling under their own joy. Circles dissolving, heights found and climbed, hand hold crumbles, finger tips part, feet stumble, lesson learned once again, once again the fall, that combustible atom burned to give rise to another dance, another fire…
The shop window gloried in its trinkets.
The train slowed but didn’t stop.
He trod his path into a trench.
She couldn’t see him for the rain and the mire.
Heaven opened its beckoning arms to the lost child.
Hell pushed the needle and pulled the blood.
Mother and father aged and passed.
Whilst time stood still, amused at impatience.
The rocks smiled as their form turned to dust.
The beach wept for its loss.
The sea died, a victim of its own success.
Futility does not exist when scaled to the stars.
Water flows like a demon searching another victim to destroy.
All the while my love grew, for you, for them, a boundless tool designed to bond the articulate particles together.
To prove that difference does exist…
I ran up the hill
I walked those miles
To forget for a while, to forget for a while
I loved your spouse
And I stole your spouse
To forget for a while, to forget for a while
I claimed your trees
I broke your knees
To forget for a while, to forget for a while
The clouds tumbled down.
They threatened my crown
I bled the earth
To find my truth
I shared my love
My sea, my cove
I failed to see
What you did to me
Because I forgot for a while
I forgot about time, being the distance from one event to another event. It can be crushed or expanded depending on the subjects will. It is the distance between birth and death; it is the journey of the keeper. To stagnate is to crush time, it has no value when no events occur, it can be a straight line from the forceps to the grave, a tedium, a chore, the simplex is a second from one to the other, a two part score, a two beat rhythm a schism, top to bottom, one fall…
Each expansion comes with movement, with curiosity, with intent, dancing to the silent tune singing in your head. Sailing with the clouds as they scud across the moon, we wave goodbye to all we know, to all we have grown for us children old must pass the shadow, must fall through hell to understand the lessons taught by times sure toll…
