hit by a poem

I was listening to Boards of Canada’s “Reach For The Dead” at work and out of the blue, lyrics. Words forming that wouldn’t quiet down or pass until I had written them down.  Ok, poem. I hear you. today I was  plucked out of the  oppression of time and placed into the void vacuum of space…

time logged

seconds on the clock keep on ticking becoming the minutes on my side becoming the hours in my bones in my soul seconds tick down the seemingly unmanageable  minutes logged in and counted time i store up time i collect days are contained in my body weeks, months, and years every time i say yes…

the special effects of lunar journeys 

there’s one sure fire way to get to the moon she said to me the invisible ladder trail of blinking lights go on to a syncopated beat that only a few can feel those beats are dirty!  is what they say to me only the voices in my head call me crazy though pure spirit…

favorite song

favorite song comes on  static electricity  and the people that know say yes hands outstretched to the sky lights turn to blue flash to magenta now’s the time for your best dance moves or sometimes you just sit back and smile arms laced in back of your head close your eyes nod to the beat…

time when it moves 

as if memory could call into another time tap in so deeply  so as  to reveal the moment in a vastly new light as if time travel  was possible  simply from listening to music transported  on a journey  or sometimes stationary  the world seems to be compressed in the moment of pause as if pause…

prayer

the type of prayer that shakes the type of prayer that moves the type of prayer that bubbles  the type of prayer that soothes the type of prayer that speaks words across the boundaries words into the unknown the type of prayer translucent in the light wavering between boundaries unimpacted by time the type of…