Eye Needle And Space….

“It is the duty of us all to ensure that our society remain one of which we are proud, not a society wary of immigrants and intent on their expulsion or a society that disputes the welfare state or a society in which the media are controlled by the wealthy. We would oppose such things were we true heirs to the National Council of the Resistance.”by Stephane Hessel

Eye Needle is a fourteen mile plunge to blue aperture. An immediate dash and slight-in-travel maybe more-of-less and ‘cross time-mines and star twinkles before twinkles begin. Thread thin and long stretched in color and distance and change and certainly certain of ending somewhere or another here or there or a concluded or anxious everywhere. Eye of needle is a passage. It is the permanent expectation of homeland’s differentials and discovering similar situations. A sanitized gateway to the suggestions of home and of space and a place—to body shape and shift and survive.

There is a river of twisting stations and the mysteries of death silenced by injured variations in flight and deviations in shoreline distances from blood allotted and the location of spirits and of group-touch. Once lost inside these memories, a struggle-to-remember-forgotten places continues behind the twisting pines of needled trees and safely beyond the influences of iron spears and burning tears…

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”—First Amendment to the Constitution of the United States.

‘Congress’ is the First word in our First Amendment. Words are shielded against all governmental officials and their agencies. All means protection from: Federal, State and local—Legislative, Judicial and Executive! So! ‘Let Freedom Ring.’

“Is it the end of an era?
Is it the end of America?
Is it the end of an era?
Is it the end of America?

No, oh
It’s only the beginning
If we hold on to hope
We’ll have a happy ending
When the world was at war before
We just kept dancing
When the world was at war before
We just kept dancing”—
by Lana Del Rey

Words! Articulated and scripted are either correct or incorrect. The beauty of language is the spins and twirls of words both; associated or separated from; thought, emotion, intention, rhythm, rhyme, prudence, attentiveness and the day-to-day; Who, What, When, Where, Why and How.

In both; fiction or non-fiction, words swirl and whirl from lips, from minds and from tools-to- record. Pens and pencils and keyboards do suggest other ways-to-think, to interest, to animate and to crash within the awareness of readers in all domains tucked just outside the start of simple and the end of perplexity.

To perceive and conceive and absorb and substantiate every notion and motion known or just beginning to develop something real or unreal is suitable. With no restraint to communicate every notion and motion either known or just discovered, is sacrosanct. Freedom of Speech and Freedom of the Press is the motion of all notions correct or incorrect. So! ‘Let Freedom Ring.’

Words are not always genuine or insincere. Context is often a cover for lies or truths. Readers determine validity or invalidity. Often this determination is not objective. Whimsy may not be independent. Reactions often supplant logic. Interpretation often discounts emotions. Habitually words spoken are received as the listener wishes to perceive those words and understand what is said or meant or imagined or desired or needed as fact or fiction. Often the silence between each word, communicates everything.

We shift into objects of alternative daylights with the accepted expectations of extraordinary flashes of original thought and lights of magnificently creative—creations through perceptions of flashing preconceived originality and congested repeaters across a wondrous land of sugar and cinnamon-spiced tea-or-coffee-or me-or-you-or-us or…In the becoming of an impression immortally important and into legacy’s realm repeated and recalled and retweeted we ‘amen’ to both; the previously consummated and the just about to transpire! Ashes-to-ashes and dust-to-dust-new-ways-to-win—we must be us?

The ‘where-in-the-world’ we emerge is no irritant to the matter-of-the-matter. The ‘I’ of us never survives without the everywhere-of-everyone-in-everyplace within the sky and beneath and beyond the lights of moon—stars and sun dances beyond the imagined realms of universal distance and the figures-of-figures wrapped around a third planet from here-to-there and again to another planet of wondering folks alive in both spaces and places and time.

We are all émigrés of this Universe. Since an explosion of mystery or notions or nicks or knacks or reasons or rhymes, we step through time and place and dwelling and one-to-another. We are the administrators ‘blood of red’ equal ‘air’ and the performers of fiction and truth, drawn by spirits same; the dreamers-of-hope and the hopes-of-dreamers. We are the ancient, the existent and the days-of-yet-to-come. We are the gods of virtuosity!  We are life—all growing and all walking and all crawling and all swimming—We are Life—perfect and unstoppable.

And! Beautiful you are…

 

‘When The World Was At War We Kept Dancing’—Lana Del Rey

 

‘Bohemian Like You’—The Dandy Warhols

 

10 comments on “Eye Needle And Space….

  1. Two of my favourite songs to add joy to this brilliant piece of writing. In the end we must never give up hope. In the end every end is a beginning. In the end we must cling and cleave to the seeds of righteousness that have always seen deomocratic decency win. In the end we are all temporary visitors. In the end when we mix faith with dreams, optimism and desire then all shall be well. The shape may not be what we expected but we can and we will win through.

  2. This made me wish for a dream state, all of us at one with each other. Striving to make a better world, caring for our neighbors.
    My grandson who is going to be 13 has Ewing’s Sarcoma, a rare cancer with 4 masses. He is a sweet, kind of rebel of a boy. I hope his rebellion will beat the cancer out! Hard to “Imagine” as John Lennon sang of such Hope. Love you, Philip! My silences are due to being a little numb. . . ☮️ Robin 🌞

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