Sunday, January 11, 2015

Let's be clear... the fog continues. Blow hard.

Oh so now you have awakened
and it's not what you wanted,
pray tell what you wanted,
if not this awkward squawk
smack in front of your face;
pie in the sky and a cherry in the eye
beyond time and space.

No, you're not a disgrace.

Love as you know it is a dead deal,
a dialogue with a demigod...

who is not for real.

No big deal.

I faced that fog and met myself,
gray and misty on a bus to nowhere.

It was real.

Show yourself, I screamed...or so it seemed.

The bus careened around the streets with screaming
and terror and a drama complete. One part of me knew so well
that we are really completely drawn to a life of hell.

Oh well.

I was honored and revered for all my ridiculous fear.
The bus stop was my bed, warm and cosy with a buzzing
in my head. A nightmare of a misty and musty old fog...
but there was nothing to say or nothing to hide, I chose
to partake of this incipient smog.

In the early morning, under the stars... Orion, Pleiades
and Venus and Mars.

I inhaled the smoke of the dream as it came, woke up, thought awhile... and blew it out hard. Come and get me while I dance and I sing... a song, that I learned long ago.

It got nuttin' to do wid a hollow wood bling.

Fog is gray and a mysterious kind, better than black or white if you're unsure of the box... grey is a hound chasing the fox.

A vixen... a flower, as lethal as foxglove. Take it off slow...
one finger or petal at a time. The fog will clear, a heart will quicken,
the gray will morph to colors in time; a sun dog is barking
as the colors entwine.

Blow Gabriel glow... he is a woman, ya know?

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