Blue Wrinkles of Code Balloons…

57We here—hear—waking sounds—music touch—ear-side before mind-side slides—sweet song—scent-speak and cradle squeak—and we hear—visceral seer—sans reason—also there—with care—memory spaced—raindrop wide—with memory tides and spiritual rides—tis OK—without sometime thoughts—donchaknow. And! Suddenly the regularity of phenomena—no longer measured rigidly—now burst into the probability of theory—though dynamics and universally common—plain-speak and stench—drenched in fractal messages. ‘Pixel me a thought today and watch as pictures fade away.’

Fire—Blue light—‘sorta’—start-stop—dancing—yellow streaks—red coats and journey starts. Screaming—moons toward—light and still—horses run Martian Ridge. We are children of those—salted seas and spirit trees. And! Clouds often look for—skies. …Hollow man—is robot without—spirit-animation-without ‘ghosts in the machine’…We be not—holy hollows—we be—imagine—imagination—beyond pushes of strengths—we dance—baby birthing—powerful protection and iron love—nothing stronger than love or better than together songs and the unification of eternal spirits.

Butterfly—kisses—wish made—wish chant—and grant—soft wings and slips and flits— ride currents of breeze—so slight—against soft skin—often switch directions-of-fancy—will by—choice or wearied of time—trips to beginning and endings of time shifted—drifted and lifted and forever gifted—to lines of—crafted beings—being for  moments—above moonlight and—day—bright. Space between lines—of coded-cold-color—fine word pour—from puzzle—one or two—twins in-step—and reasons to-be—to-see special—twin-twines—through tunnels and into the night.

Launch now—code filled balloons both alpha and numeric—fluid—lines of rows—switch—crosses—across drops-of-lengths—between space and press and touch—and—a distance—between winter’s flakes and snow. While dancing dream’s mind-merge—spirit winds a clock of choices—known by forgotten—dust-swirls—desert winds and salted seas—as foam merges with sandy shores. Rain bounce—by moonlight—against a million miles of asphalt streets—where tiny sprites of weeds—meet—push through—to break the symmetry—of path—life once again—is the birth of nature’s chaos—and nothing is as natural—as creating—-creations. Life’s power is—eternal notions—of—goddesses and gods—witches and warlocks—wizards and shamans—and—the blood-bond of women and men—creatures-features— and the dynamics of Love. Remember! Love is sex-less—without form—without flesh—and—-when shiver—shapes humanity—love—is touch—magic required—as beings require air—mixed—blood red.

As we form—precious life—forms-form—we name—-speak love—hunt-save-spare-care—and as others—find us—avoid us—hunt—devour us—chaos of circles dance ‘round—mystery of times—begin and end—start-stop—while chasing creation—‘cross—apparent universes—known and unknown and the forgotten times—of today’s-yesterdays and tomorrow’s days of future’s—stop and start. Ad infinitum—or maybe ‘cross into Nemo Universes—of never-were—never was—or may still—never be… We are all Children of the Universe…We have the Right to be Everywhere!

And! Beautiful you are…

‘Walking in the Air’ by Howard Blake—performed by Nightwish

20 comments on “Blue Wrinkles of Code Balloons…

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