Lights off
Lay down
Listen soft
Fall in love
1, 2, 3, 4:
If the hands of a clock, the shifting of digital dots
Would pull us all together
As well as it has with us
The world would be
One giant
Thundering heart
In the purest mind
Seeing with the clarity of
Timelessness
Would pull us all together
As well as it has with us
The world would be
One giant
Thundering heart
In the purest mind
Seeing with the clarity of
Timelessness
photography, shots slide across the screen for a crowd to see
sitting smiling peacefully with a monument, its magnitude of beauty- focused centrally
in the corner, reclining with the scene
a face, my face
then 4 pairs of legs walk across a stage
scrutinizing two mojoin pins, removed from my possession
with a pair of eyes, and a single lens
and hundreds of others viewing past-present tense
vacation shots of a life
lived spontaneously
this photographer, where did he come from
we ran into him on the street
at an intersection of time gone by in the windshield,
spinnin round a traffic circle eye
from where he began to follow me
questioning the playbacks
does he see what I see?
and from the crowd a man, seemingly a professor
professed this love to me:
the id doesn't like it when a mirror's not around
try to sleep without one
see if you can stand your ground
so of course upon my waking,
I realize the space, blank
thereupon my childhood bedroom wall where one had hung, now displaced
then spoke a need to see this id encased
according to a Freudian kind of studied taste
but right before I rose up and out
from the cacophony of the raw
a boy in this dream I know asked me, please
make me anxious tonight
I have some work proposals that I need to write
my dreaming id understood it perfectly
over-seeing this unknown churning underbelly
catharsis dream-work delivered intentionally
sitting smiling peacefully with a monument, its magnitude of beauty- focused centrally
in the corner, reclining with the scene
a face, my face
then 4 pairs of legs walk across a stage
scrutinizing two mojoin pins, removed from my possession
with a pair of eyes, and a single lens
and hundreds of others viewing past-present tense
vacation shots of a life
lived spontaneously
this photographer, where did he come from
we ran into him on the street
at an intersection of time gone by in the windshield,
spinnin round a traffic circle eye
from where he began to follow me
questioning the playbacks
does he see what I see?
and from the crowd a man, seemingly a professor
professed this love to me:
the id doesn't like it when a mirror's not around
try to sleep without one
see if you can stand your ground
so of course upon my waking,
I realize the space, blank
thereupon my childhood bedroom wall where one had hung, now displaced
then spoke a need to see this id encased
according to a Freudian kind of studied taste
but right before I rose up and out
from the cacophony of the raw
a boy in this dream I know asked me, please
make me anxious tonight
I have some work proposals that I need to write
my dreaming id understood it perfectly
over-seeing this unknown churning underbelly
catharsis dream-work delivered intentionally
