tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44362577704551733322024-03-05T07:10:38.024-08:00Storems <a href="https://eyeseat.blogspot.com"> by</a>shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-17238332430312643712022-11-05T20:36:00.003-07:002023-08-04T17:23:32.763-07:00AETERNUS AEVUM ANALOGIA<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">by <a href="https://nethermusings.blogspot.com/">Shaun Lawton</a></span></i></div>
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<img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiLMyS00JeSSL9EnhGiyJWEBjjqvN3Tcv_oxAS-h304137ZYgBwaJdmNmgFKAfZjv3PNUei9D5pz7NrkUtcQTujtbAJ4PW0oadQS6vIHCFcOF50Z3IBUZtErnACRrDqFYPmrvnQGlkRRY/s400/87328278_3048155591874359_6170842177183154176_o.jpg" width="300" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: x-small;"><i>photo by Vincent Daemon</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The industry now turning here has been doing so for awhile. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The mirrored analogy lies in the striations of our smile. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It appears in genuflections of an ordinary grimace. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And disappears in the injections of our blood's burning furnace.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Momentary in a slipstream plunged into the intermittent.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Turned inside out from a synapse into another galaxy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The trick is understanding that our plasma is our currency.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Space and time itself remain nothing but the flesh and blood of God.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We are just the garment he wears which appears to us very odd. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That's because we have displaced Him according to his greater plan.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Written in the script of paradox spiraling through modern man. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Paranoid paranormal paradisaical to the bone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Steeped in ecstatic tortures infernal divinity our home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">What is truth but loyalty to an ancient handed down notion. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Faith in the veracity of staying solid firm and steadfast.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Meanwhile knowing all along our own physical bodies won't last. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our fidelity to being correct will someday backfire. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The friction it engenders may lead to our funeral pyre.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This is why we must remember to forget most of the time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Forgetting to remember always promotes remaining sane. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The more we memorize the further we clog up our own brain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In the act of hypnotism we become our own victim. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Staring into this dark prism we transform our innocence.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our experience observed by a bright myriad audience. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Oblivious our isolation stays just an illusion. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Blind to the rich assembly that exists as an intrusion.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Wearing the stellar mantle a fallen crown upon our head. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Neglecting the difference between the living and the dead.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">While one must disappear from here the other emerges there.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It escapes our understanding that this points to everywhere.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Except when we perceive that time and space are one and the same.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We forget our magnetic interaction with the stars. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It remains constant between us no matter where we are.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Unbroken and perpetual connected at the core. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As beyond so beneath we should never mistake our dream.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">For something we can't realize existing in between. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">By focusing our vision on the here and now instead. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Disembodied for a time more or less within our head.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We can learn to recover our lost sense of sanity. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">After tumbling over in this distant proximity. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Awaken to the furthest always being near at hand.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Remember the one whose eyes open when you close your eyes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Going north in winter traces our passage from this world. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Before our lives began here we were under different skies. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">By unclenching our balled fists our blood banners are unfurled.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Everyone alive stands upright their own sentinel. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Illuminating the current hive like a candle. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Conducting electricity with our flesh and blood.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Manifesting on the plains of diminishing lands.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Forming this unique chain of a legacy of hands.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Converging on a point parallel to each other. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Thread the needle through our eye to a long lost mother.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Weave the garment made of skies cloaking our own brother.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Shed the warm hide that was grown such a long time ago. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dread the pride that you've shown for not knowing it was so. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ever going on this ride that is continual. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Like snapping shut and picking open a pair of locks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Without keys we escape the prison of paradox.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Truth has been described as a twi-edged flaming sword.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This depiction remains a lovely metaphor. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It cuts both ways and also burns down villages.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Those who think it absolute remain adamant.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It scalds and razes those untrained to handle it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To see within it we may have to close our eyes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To know it better we must learn its new disguise.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Overcome that which we're told has been forbidden.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There's nothing wrong with knowledge as information.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The real danger lies in gaining a distinction. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Thinking we know the difference between right and wrong.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Unravels the harmony of our mutual song. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Remain steadfast in holding off conviction. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Trade our ears with another's in dictation. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Swap our shoes with each other just to listen.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Serve others as you would want to be treated. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Stare into these mirrors however fleeting. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This behavior's in accordance with reason. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our liberator arrives with the season. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The protector's concealed within our own skin.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">All is revealed when we take time to begin. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Thinking we've started just because we're awake.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">We all share that in common a big mistake. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The fact is we haven't even begun. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our transformation under a new sun. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There is no reason for us to pretend. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That every moment we do not transcend.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Although we may be seen as illusion.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Our identities just a confusion. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Only present without past or future.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To help focus keep up the inversion. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The blurring at worst doesn't go that far.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Keep looking til you first see the polestar. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-31913657148738518992021-05-30T13:21:00.013-07:002023-04-17T12:13:12.275-07:00POST-POP DESOLATION<div><i>by <a href="https://syneslexia.blogspot.com/">shaun lawton </a></i></div><div><br /></div><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">As the tides from space ineluctably draw in and out of our atmosphere. <br /><br />We are licked and caressed by languorous exhumations from the void. <br /><br />If we could tune in on that distillation of disconsolate wavelengths.</span><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br />Ushered into the breathtaking inhalation of the yawning gulfs. <br /><br />Our focus would sharpen into a lucid high contrast revelation.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br />As the pores of our skin opened and shut in eyeless observation. <br /><br />Sensing the crack and tolling of thunder in a woeful intimate proximity.<br /><br />Realizing the sudden lightning flash equated to the bright days of our life.<br /><br />Not seeing the fulmination for the electromagnetic spectrum.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br />In blind recognition of the moment being the body of the beast. <br /><br />Its tensed musculature comprised of the neural pathways in our brains.<br /><br />Ready to pounce in an instant on the cusp of the riptides of eternity.<br /><br />Each sip of our morning coffee a conflagration of silent turbulence. <br /><br />To mirror and be echoed by the tempest from our coronal solar wind. <br /><br />For a few short moments with eyes lowered shut in ecstatic concession.<br /><br />We breathe in the turmoil captured inside the center of the eye of peace. </span><br /></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div>shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-4634689766187038772020-07-15T09:33:00.004-07:002023-04-17T12:14:13.225-07:00NOVEL CORONAVIRUS UPDATE<div><i>by <a href="https://scratchypost.blogspot.com/2021/04/time-to-get-going.html"> shaun lawton </a></i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>In the year of perfect vision a multiplicity of cosmic events<br />
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synchronizes after millennia of constantly adjusting alignments.<br />
At the macroscopic level quasars flare open and irises shut </div>
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channeling electromagnetic energy to form the birth of galaxies. <br />
Black holes dilate and distribute the thermodynamic cycle </div>
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of energy maintaining the elemental balance necessary for life.<br />
Deep inside the microscopic quantum realm a myriad blossoming </div>
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of biodiversity erupts into form to open its eyes and dream.<br />
Cellular colonies of majestic fusion reactors perpetuate </div>
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the elemental ingredients coalescing and tempering into livid form.<br />
The constant recycling of matter and energy funneled from without </div>
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and processed within the system continues its onset. <br />
While the godlike lidless eye at the central crux of it all stares sightlessly </div>
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outward a billion blinking pupils gaze back inward.<br />
At an almost imperceptible level in the programming of the intertwining </div>
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polynucleotide chains of all life an upgrade is imported.<br />
It's been sent from wherewithout to counterbalance the excess proliferation </div>
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of the living host's inevitable slow corruption. <br />
It is the biological equivalent of defragging the system </div>
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appearing as a malady down below despite being the cure from above.<br />
In this counterintuitive realm of existence the individual colonies </div>
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of sentience must implement the paradox of faith to survive.<br />
Glimpsed through the lens of split-mind objectification </div>
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all developed species get caught up in the ebb and flow of gravity. <br />
In the heart of the moment the here and now gradually undergoes </div>
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its cosmic transfiguration into the epic there and then. <br />
We praise the skies in our own ways for an eternity realized </div>
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in a series of instants while forever disappears into the distance.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>
shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-41757924335732488702020-02-15T12:49:00.004-08:002023-04-17T12:14:58.227-07:00SONG OF THE THREADED NEEDLE<div><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>by <a href="https://www.lulu.com/shop/shaun-lawton/plasma-tales/paperback/product-1mm5rwwg.html">shaun lawton </a></i></span></div><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><div><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>I held a wafer in my hand for over an hour. It was calling to me from in between the craquelure of its salted surface. A minuscule steam lazily sifted from its holes and was sent in erratic directions by an invisible wind with a mind of its own. I began thinking it was generated by a weak or debilitated breathing. But what sort of creature could project its breath from afar and through a cracker no less.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I will enjoy eating this biscuit if only I could get it in to my lips. My hand lay paralyzed in my lap as if nothing could summon my arm up to bring the treat to my mouth. It whispered to me in evaporating traces of steam. You'll never manage to eat me it hissed. All I could do was stare at it helplessly. How it spoke to me I never could have guessed. As mysterious as its remote breathing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now I know a banshee is responsible, one that has been trained to throw its voice. They have been known to congregate on the west side of town. When the lower west side was abandoned due to the coronavirus in the pipes being found. It was rumored that not even the rats remained to inherit the alleyways of crumbs. Mysteriously only bats dared to lurk once in awhile in these desolate mazes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Setting the hissing cracker down on the ground I stepped back and hid in a shadow. I watched as a stray armadillo sauntered over sniffing the ground with a course stubbled snout. It huffed and ruffled its hide while trying to find scraps of food to ingest. When it got to the cracker it inhaled it in a single lunging gulp. This lone creature wandered off with that stale communion wafer on its scaly tongue.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There hasn't been a spare moment for me to mourn fallen mankind. I've only considered the reasons in the wee hours before claiming sleep in the basement of the crumbling mall. I know the population of earth was said to have reached nearly nine billion at the peak crisis point. Before the organism of skins comprising the largest meta organ on any planet this side of the galaxy billowed out as a flag.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It was a vector line for parasitical viruses to exploit the only known resources in this astral lane. By burgeoning their size they were able to link together into a greater fabric, a bacteriological cloak of sorts to haunt the flanks of a rogue planetary body that had grown too heated for its own good. Its tectonic hide broke through with tessellation spines and the music engendered was truly hideous.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It should have served to call and harmonize with its neighboring granular clusters housing the colonization of a carbon based mantle. Instead of hiding the crucial chimerical symbiotic bestiary from the roving magnetoception of wandering stellar vultures, it exposed the interior carbuncles of an endlessly forming tapestry offered to the vicious predatory avians. Picked clean like a tray in space.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As a result the albumenic biome acidified to the point of eliminating any bony skeletal beings from existing under its ululating brilliance. Nothing left but cephalopods and sturdy specimens of jellyfish. The starlight refracted through these dappled rainbow beams along the ocean floor. On the itchy surface of the planet's hide homo sapiens would carry on with its murderous schemes no more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">By a series of mathematical elimination it made sense our species would be whittled down to one. The plague carried itself out in pairs so there was always going to be the possibility of one resistant who would be left without anyone else to pass the virus on to. I know its me because the silence that responds to my calls from the inside is stiller than the quiet splendor of the stars at night.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The fact the constellations no longer twinkle might be attributed to a clarification in the atmosphere. But I think it's because they've finally achieved full fruition into their ultimate formation. My mind's eye has opened its multifaceted prisms and allayed a vision so fantastic as to leave me petrified in its shattering myriad splendor. I've been caught in between the intersections of its reflections' stale mate.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This was to be the end game all along. One sculpture representing the major race designated captured on the surface of a barren planet to be subjected to the galaxy's forlorn song. Now that the harmony of the stellar contractions has diminished to a lull I no longer find it so easy to drift off into sleep. I realize now that's because each planet having hosted a bilateral life was thinned to a piercing shriek.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">One thread issued from a pipe hole orifice at a time, held in space, spread out in a spiraling tribulation, representing the finest single line tracing a hologram in outer space that when zoomed in on is revealed to be a double helix configuration of molecules in a simultaneous state of ascension and descending into the baseline foundation of the very apex of visionary thought nailed to the head.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I've crucified the stare of my reflection. I've fallen into my image in the mirror. I'm drowning in the atmosphere of winter. I'm burning up in the ether of a star. I'm swimming down the drain into the melting sun. In eternity we haven't gotten really far. I never once yet have started the process I've begun. That's why the curtain falls only once upon a time. That's why the shield lands upon a dime.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I've drawn out the traces of an adventure. I've only just begun in time. I'm finishing the part about ever after. I find myself still being on the run. If it wasn't for the latest series of disasters I can't be sure I would've had such fun. As the lone piercing wail emitted from this sector goes, around here it's hard to tell how the whole damn operation was done. It's execution formed the memory held onto.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It's how we began thinking the war could be won. It was a matter of convincing the long lost participants to consider the other side of the matter. That a matter of fact couldn't bring the best back, nor the thought about going for a ride. It was all lost in a moment in September. It was all hung out to dry on a line. It was all we could do to remember. That it would all turn out just to be fine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This thought is nine billion times stronger. This time nine billion times as bright. It makes sense the only one in the audience to attend is one's own son or daughter. We don't pretend to imagine we'd ever be out of this water. We only know the reality of how it's gotten much hotter. It goes to show a symphony of pain and memories. Even if we know they do refer to the legacy of a star fading.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span>
shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-85144181543819237312016-03-13T18:35:00.001-07:002023-04-17T12:15:46.592-07:00POEM REWOVEN<div><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>by <a href="https://thornrant.blogspot.com/"> shaun lawton </a></i></span></div><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><div><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></div>Providing a format with which I can render </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">these pages obsolete of blank space.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In order to prise the gemstone from </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">the talons of those to whom we're enslaved.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Into dinosaur chrism on the gleaming plates </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">under the sun most of all laved for.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To provide formulations which may become tender again </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">ages away even if late.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Showing how light reveals stolen</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> battalions for those silent wombs we've craved.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Introducing legion blind and storming </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">through the last open gates we aimed for.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To prize formations in which we must succumb </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">to the woven cages sent our way.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">In ordinary schisms it is the chosen </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">battle bastion quickly razor split and halved.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That introduces entities to binding states </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">of complicated thoroughgoing enmity.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Inducted often as sins to be tasted only to attempt </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">escape and get drained again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Instruments inspect our destiny of </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">tightropes driven away </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">in sun glycerin motes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Seeking wren notes pinned to the arm of some i</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">nstructing men sent to be tested.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">To cope with an ounce of grit while surviving</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> a rudimentary command of doors.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Opened by dawn's </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">insular gliding while awaiting</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> noteworthies to end all armies.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">An insurrection bent on destroying </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">crops with a trounce of ill lit under</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">standing. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hopeless over</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> cities having to sever blocks from</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> all such suddenly untied knots.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Having winnowed out of it can't be an option again when learning how</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> to comb.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">The fish wed out from our beards as</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> provincial hens transform into clean </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">guests. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">From recourse to</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> providence shining O be</span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"> a friend in our quests to scar the page.</span>shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-91141152271852030372015-12-12T10:30:00.003-08:002023-04-17T12:17:14.258-07:00STORY ENDED<div><i>by <a href="https://scpseries21.blogspot.com/2022/09/scp-21-77-12.html"> shaun lawton </a></i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Hay fever seizes the accountability of the narrative if the <br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">commentator becomes susceptible to this malady. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sometimes we live in fear of being forced to tell our stories </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">under conditions </span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">not best for remembering them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">It's a systemic emotion bred and ritualized into us over the course </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">of many subsequent generations.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">There arrives a point where the terror no longer registers </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">anymore and so here it comes triggered weakly within. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">So that the detonation of silence opens a clustering sky </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">for a garden from which to hang tears individually.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I don't think it's possible for the story to have ended</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">really, not here today, nor there tomorrow.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span><br />
<b></b><i></i><u></u><sub></sub><sup></sup><strike></strike><br />shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-64284484051549990572015-02-27T09:54:00.005-08:002023-04-17T12:19:09.133-07:00CRYSTAL RADIO<div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>by <a href="https://happenverse.blogspot.com/">Shaun Lawton </a></i></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>Past the breakdown of the bicameral eye into a jewel dropout.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">All the droplets fall as if they were all too happy to do so even.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Without gravity to aid the mutual alignment of all the remaining.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Creatures on Earth each one here exclusively in our own domain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Sharing our individual universes with each other interlaced.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Repelled embraced unfathomed because it's still going on strong.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This here reality appears as a symphony believe me I've seen it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">And I'm listening to its strange refrains even now as I write this.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The weeping curtain of diamonds falls in loose girdles like rain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Outside my window just one of many filtered lenses on a chain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Like a rosary trying to balance its own perspective as it spills.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Through hands caressing its beads to snap taut against the anchor.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Waking up to the chill of morning with every last gem spent.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Look into the crystal and imagine the music emanating from it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-77098051216182649692015-02-18T09:42:00.005-08:002023-04-17T12:20:18.979-07:00LONG PERIOD COMET<div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>by <a href="https://xanur.blogspot.com/">Shaun Lawton </a></i></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>A crucible of knowledge replicates from one man's solitary diary. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Understandings are innately acquired from over long distances.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Filtered sunlight reflects serene off a series of alternating mirrors.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Nodal torch points of the Matriculation align themselves over time.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Networks of quasars help synchronize active galaxies universewide. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Paradise arrives before our eyes after colonizing us from the inside. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Hell breaks out around us when we find ourselves on any lost cause. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">To be found is to realize we are here at the exact center of creation. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Awakening from the sleep of the dead often triggers disorientation.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The ghostly real world blurs behind our shuttering facade of factories.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">With inexplicable rapidity the self replicating planet corrupts into slag.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Fated to become yet another asteroid belt embedded with human DNA.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-68069985273076259122014-12-13T14:00:00.002-08:002023-04-17T12:20:58.489-07:00SONNET FOR THE LIVING<div><i>by<a href="https://polyentendre.blogspot.com/"> Shaun Lawton </a></i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Holding hands with the shadows of the dead across the street.<br />
The coolness dissipates from our palms after we meet.<br />
These whispers from the mortuary eaves in our ears.<br />
Longing for us to be joined with them are all we can hear.<br />
Drawn from the supernal hearth of our home the forest of night.<br />
What should be found supernatural and eerie or mysterious.<br />
Is the stability of our own street and how it came to be.<br />
That it bridges across the distance of all the known seasons.<br />
Over all the weathered years of our lives and our neighbors.<br />
What should really awe and terrify us all is the truth.<br />
How did the ground and our feet come to meet after all.<br />
Why have we all arrived to see what's here after all these years.<br />
Caught in the cold void of eternity without a moment's certainty.<br />
<br />shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-78448364034601342922014-01-07T07:20:00.001-08:002023-04-17T12:21:41.604-07:00COLD FRONT<div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">by <i><a href="https://brassnautilus.blogspot.com/">Shaun Lawton </a></i></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>Apart from cracks on the Formica counter top around the bending </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">curve of my eye I can not discern anything through my shot glass. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The rumblings of a city in dusk seep through the slurry of hushed </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">undertones merging stainless steel clinks from glasses slowly stirred. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In this labyrinth collecting mirrors no one bothers looking at each other </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">directly for the point of that was lost long ago with the reflected hosts. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I sink into the magnified pores of her face held balanced on a stack </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">of merging surface edits like a drawn bath displaced by a weary body. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's been many revolutions since I can remember springtime </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">and for that I should ordinarily feel sadder than the beer ads on the wall. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Cheerfully I determine that mixing drinks with indentured silverware </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">may distract the focus from a certain familiar melody floating by. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Its coruscating pattern of decaying notes drift along into the distance </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">like so many flakes of ash rendered gray as the moon in winter. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The cracked fields of this lit valley fade before the inland sea evaporates </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">into silence here on a world whose name evokes nothing but dirt. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'd rather not think about it since my drink became too evenly mixed </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">for me to want another sip from the cold inversion boiling outside. </span>shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-83097949197280500822013-08-30T13:55:00.003-07:002023-04-17T12:22:36.887-07:00THE OLDER ONES<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>by <a href="https://menkindred.blogspot.com/">Shaun Lawton </a></i></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></div>Our own brains are canned in bone.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We rarely think of this when left alone.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">With three times as many appendages as an octopus.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Memories dim as dreams take over the mind. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">From what depths we dared our hold on history. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We crossed the gap arriving and gasping for air from the shore.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">At the cellular level aware of our capacity to adapt. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There is no justification for polluting an entire planet. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The reason for this is because neither does justice exist. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Only a sort of static balance amid the roiling turmoil. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">An entire world exists outside our thought!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We have words that represent the aspects of that world. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Mountain, stone, water, sinew, feather, lightning, thunder, dark.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Keep these words true to your heart and align yourself with earth.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Disregard abstractions such as good, evil, truth, justice, etc. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">They work to cloud the mind and further obfuscate our lives.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Lives we are dreaming up on the spot so get with it and wake up. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The ancient lords who swam up from the greatest depths. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">We are surrounded by them today just take a look around. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Kings of our dominion are wearing our own clothes dressed to kill. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Groomed with immaculate grace pupils full blown in our face. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Everything Is Under Control someone possessed of sardonic wit once wrote.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Except for the grip we may have on our own lives we suppose. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">One thing matters in the dark protected by calcified helmets. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Extruded upright by gravity and guided by the <a href="http://scanpoem.blogspot.com/2013/08/the-older-ones.html">wind</a>. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span>shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-10448936939327262282013-07-01T21:40:00.001-07:002023-04-17T12:23:31.047-07:00THE FIRST SEVEN CONFORMATIONS<div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><i>by <a href="http://diffrayer.blogspot.com/">Shaun Lawton </a> </i></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></div>A head emerges from the limitless, p</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">roviding nine emanations.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Before this the earth was desolate, t</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">he crowns of old kings had been lost.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Their wearers dead for ages, b</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">ack when nothing faced itself</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">until the day arrived t</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">he vestments of honor were communicated</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">by this crowning countenance, c</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">arrying nine seeds born to echo.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Held dormant in trinities within t</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">heir own dark equilibrium.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Incomprehensible and as yet unseen, t</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">hough heralded to ascend</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">from never into being ever after, t</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">he simple triple trinity.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Annealing complicity, k</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">eeping the mystery secret through</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">forging a cranium for crystalline dew, w</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">ith skin made of ether and triumphant.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Hair of the finest wool c</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">overing a benevolent forehead</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">made of the prayers from seeds, w</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">ith an eye always open and awake.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Perpetually keeping watch o</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">ver this glorious network</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">of gifts and receptions, w</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">here the appearance of the lower</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">comes from the aspect of the higher; a</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;"> spirit blows across the kingdom</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">from mighty twin galleries t</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">o rush forth about everything.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">In the beginning, the six was created w</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">ith this breath of life</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">as it was drawn into himself, a</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia;">bove the complex beard of dignity...</span>shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-31357999391208419862013-06-12T20:42:00.001-07:002023-04-17T12:24:13.813-07:00BURIED DOLL RECYCLED<div><i>by <a href="https://weyrdest.blogspot.com/2022/10/in-faraday-kingdom.html">Shaun Lawton </a></i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div> During winter it is quite possible to surmise everything at once and include it within the unfolding compass of an angel's wingtip tracing out ellipses in the ice when you consider the sum cost of a life spent hell bent on crossing an abyss so deep and frozen below our feet the continental shift of slow moving and long buried tectonic plates drowns out our sorrowed memories in a convalescent hum that merges like a curtain of mist over death shrouded ears we stopped hearing so long ago miles beneath years of snow that the passing white painted dashes on the highway of our lives blurred into a soothing necklace we already awoke from just to find we've been hung so carefully and with such devotion in the shut closet of our dreams that remembering them clearly is the last thing we've wanted ever since we can recall extending back to the barrier between childhood and high school which had been eroded explicitly even before we lost grip of the post doll dream and swallowed whole the seedlike husks of a black pair of glossy vinyl buttons sewed shut with leather tassels directly over the binocular spots where pennies have been laid to rest for centuries under the crumbling shifting sandstone of a whirling epic history unfolding and stacking up fast amid gigantic freeze dried mountains barely upthrust from the shallow end of eternity's sloughed off skin and perfect for burying old used up porcelain fantasies in. <br />
<br /> Legend has been maintained in the popular domain of human beings for just as long as any of them can remember that winter loses its grip just as the seasons slip past so fast that by facing the rising sun spring melts away all the years of frozen fear as if it were one extended anapole summer day hidden in plain sight balanced in the gray between the lines on a page (the only thing in existence by definition that is not moving) so needless to state or even try to illustrate despite the blank sheet of paper having captured the fluid motion of the consistently hand typed lines in a still life of text preserved for posterity such as the ritual wearing of featureless masks which is what has transformed over time into the printing of rhyme and woven story we call the library of human knowledge and morning glory's wildest most colorful fantasies ever to be projected upon the silver canvasses of our knit together lives paper puppet stitched in a rosary of cross hatching shadows over a sunken sculpture sinking from sight into the general murk of the gateway to nighttime twilit intervals where starlight is invited to slow dance the rest of the evening away despite coming to awaken in a tomb. shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-54347633188747924522012-06-27T19:25:00.001-07:002023-04-17T12:25:02.512-07:00The Zombie Apocalypse™ Will Not Be Televised<u><br /></u>
<br />
<div style="font-family: Times; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><big><i>by <a href="https://triggerdreams.blogspot.com/2017/10/history-as-viewed-by-panopticon.html">Shaun Lawton</a></i></big></span></div><div style="font: 16px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><big><br /></big></span></div><div style="font: 16px Times; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><big><br /></big></span></div><div style="font: 16px Times; margin: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: large;"><big>I remain indoors with the irredeemably captive.<br />I see a lot from my room looking out through the window.<br />Only once did I dare to venture out of the Household.<br />I have too many chores to do, and besides, we aren't allowed.<br />To go further than the reinforced gate in the Yard<br />Is to invite certain persecution from the Federal Guard.<br />My two older brothers kept grave shift watch at both Towers.<br />Thomas (the eldest) had reported to me troublesome encounters<br />During his early morning shifts. Tom confided in me.<br /><br />Just before his first zombie kill, his target was pointing<br />Wildly at its champing mouth, as if it were trying to bite off<br />Its own index finger. Yet something in the manner<br />Of its uninhibited gesticulation troubled my brother.<br />There was a certain desperation to it, he said. Whereas the others<br />That he terminated since then barely managed to stand there<br />Unaffected by flies. Walking with the slowest deliberation<br />In no particular direction. Utterly indifferent to being crowned<br />By the glorious skies. This is what got Tom thinking.<br /><br />I'll say this about my oldest brother, he always used to claim<br />That he thought too much. Now look what it got him.<br />Outside the Fence, and Lod knows if he were still alive<br />I wish he would send me a sign. Apparently he sent it<br />To our brother Pete, instead. Peter said, "<i>He's one of them<br />Now. I saw him yesterday. Laid him down myself.<br />He was doing that thing like he was trying to eat his own finger.<br />I'm sorry little brother. He is at peace.</i>"<br />After a long silence, I asked him where it happened.<br /><br />He pointed to an overgrown street corner two blocks outside the Fence.<br />After calculating the distance, I explained to him my plan.<br />During a dark hour of morning, with rope he lowered me to the ground.<br />From the lone Northwest Tower, I ducked my head and ran fast.<br />Tom's body lay spread eagle on his back amid a bed of dandelions.<br />The single conclusion which haunts me, and of which I have no doubt,<br />With the flashlight I peered into his mouth and found his tongue cut out.<br />I heard a scraping sound, as if someone approached from nearby.<br />Like a deer I bolted away, and sprinted wide eyed for the Fence.<br /><br />At the knotted rope I yanked, the bell in the Tower alerted Peter.<br />He hauled me to safety even as I climbed away from there.<br />From the top I looked down and saw the body sprawled arms outspread.<br />Lying still. The question burning inside of me that I had just found<br />I was too scared to actually discover the answer for myself now.<br />I have a role to play and there are rules to follow, we all do.<br />I will never leave the sanctity of the Household again.<br />I see a lot from my window up on the second story.<br />We remain indoors together, the protected and I. </big> </span></div>
shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-23174668416423828012011-11-19T10:18:00.002-08:002023-04-17T12:35:11.377-07:00La Vida Es Un Sueño<div><i>by <a href="https://soundcloud.com/floattheboatmusic/05-ignoramus-bonanza"> Shaun Lawton </a></i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>A strange man from a distant land once told me, via a means resembling the subtlest hand theater, evoking strings of an orchestral idea as if by subtly adding veins beneath the flesh, plucking them under one by one, overlaying by degrees and passing over seas through thinning silver clouds, his hands spoke silently with minnowing gestures articulating phrases plainly understood for their universality, which shaped a story in the air about a cloaked and hooded man upon a camel or horse, it wasn't clear, striding for days across the rippled dunes of a half-blown desert, until every night, when they dreamed together in a heap by a depression in the red rock, their being the center of their own dream, each was revealed behind closed eyelids the same titanic body of water awaiting them after many days travel across the shared landscape of the real, and during one early morning while they passed over the blowing sands, the man remembered an old poem which a wizened Spaniard had taught him when he was nine years old. <br />
<br />
<i>Life is but a Dream, and there is only one, without a dreamer, for what we are is the dreaming, every one of us being dreamed, and dreaming also but with ourselves the center of our own dream. I dream the universe; all that I dream is I; I who both am and am not as I; and while dreaming the universe, with you perceiving it—you who are not as I but am as I—for we are the dreaming without a dreamer, and there is only one Dream that is life.</i> <br />
<br />
“This poem arose from ancient philosophies beyond the east and has been reputed to contain the literal truth as the masters of old came to understand it,” the donkey brayed as they approached the coastline—as if to make fun of the masters or not, the man wasn't quite sure—as they gazed clear eyed through the spray beyond the horizon over the sea shore.<div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://soundcloud.com/floattheboatmusic" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="501" data-original-width="500" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHLTlsHdSLmpqrx9KpavP_7_eojoNajRD9WmBf7OpQM6-DafFkYhVOYuZuANt6beUHCep24yQKyGyv7O3SUMSMxKio2nRLZm1NlW4kJzCT3p7T7piNuYkl0xCc46u-K9zuOiQ1bVrHuCU6HyBNqfzazUlreI8gz9ZggC7bkpq3aGXzxPc1htvOCEO1/s320/floature.PNG" width="319" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-36910776272852465942011-10-20T08:18:00.001-07:002015-02-27T09:56:29.021-08:00BRIGHTER EYES<br />Think about it. Think throughout it;<br />Think within it, think without it:<br />Most everything you've ever heard<br />Was from the lips of men.<br /><br />Most everything you've ever read<br />Was penned by them alone.<br />Chances are you yourself are of the race of man.<br />The chance is great that what I write<br />You will not understand.<br />But have no fear, this tale is told<br />For others who may hold a secret deep inside,<br />And only they know the truth held within the lie,<br />And with time and understanding the lie will shed its skin<br />To free the dormant spirit that incubated long within.<br />And men will age and not grow wise<br />And lose this world to brighter eyes.<br /><br />Legend has it we can see within the darkest cave,<br />But who has passed the legends down<br />From in between each grave?<br />And others claim that some of us have skin as black as night<br />And spirits that are evil, and hair that is snow white;<br />Just because they're legends, child,<br />Doesn't mean they're right.<br />But don't you weep or lose the shine born within your eyes–<br />Because they are just legends<br />You can see through their disguise,<br />And only you can see the truth hid well behind the lies.<br />Man will misinterpret everything until he dies.<br /><br />Remember children, there is nothing that we have to hide,<br />For man has hidden it from himself<br />And seeks with vision blind.<br />So though it may be woven throughout this very verse,<br />All that man can do is rant and rave and curse<br />And laugh at all these words and think they are cliched–<br />While silent and nonplussed, truth shines within arrayed.<br />For man is just a creature trapped in paradox<br />While we walk freely through its realms<br />With the keys to all its locks.<br />Man is either kept imprisoned within one of two extremes–<br />And if lucky finds balances so brief they become dreams;<br />Or he's crushed within the grindstones shifting in between–<br />While the rest of us just live our dreams<br />By balancing extremes.<br /><br />Of course it's true that in a way we <i>can</i> see in the dark;<br />Just how exactly dark it is becomes the curious part.<br />Look at them with torches lit, straining to improve sight.<br />The shadowglares just frighten them<br />And further mock their plight;<br />And in this corner of the world <br />I close my eyes to see the light.<br />So I suppose it's true, we can see in the dark,<br />Which they've confused with shadow<br />And therefore missed the mark.<br />For shadows throw patches of fear on the walls,<br />Illusory phantoms that hunt men down halls<br />And will stalk them forever in labyrinths lost<br />For the grimmest of fares–sanity's cost.<br /><br />In a world that is mad and only a dream,<br />In echoes of sunlight and refractions of scream<br />We undrown through memory recollecting lost seeds<br />To harvest an anchor thrown out to the sky;<br />Motionless branches, remembering trees,<br />Roots freely breathing in mineral dreams;<br />Half of this passes straight through his eye<br />And he thinks he's seeing it all–<br />The biped has lifted his heart from the earth<br />Held his head high, and severed the contact<br />That once used to be a cherished embrace;<br />Now he's a walker of wastelands, imprisoned<br />And forced to support the divorce of his race<br />From his paradise lover as he treads on her face,<br />Wildly in search of her eyes that erase<br />As he scuffles and trods up the croplands to waste.<br /><br />But enough about man, we know his ways.<br />It's not necessary to see through the haze<br />Or to smell his pollution and taste the hard rain<br />Or hear the cacophany and feel all the pain;<br />It is evident alone from the loss of one thing–<br />That last unnamed sense called the sixth has been slain;<br />Or stunted, at best, in the least of the race; or at least<br />They seem sparse in the worst light of space–<br />The one that they utilize too far in this place,<br />To come to decisions to jump at a ghost;<br />You know the one, suffused and <br />Diffusing in all concentrations,<br />Worshipped by many throughout all the nations,<br />Remembered by few and forgotten by most:<br />You know, the Sun...our holiest Host... <br /><br />And this is the reason they have brighter eyes;<br />They <i>know</i> what they see, they do not disguise<br />Their bodies’ awareness with fear or with lies.<br />The stories out told about them aren't <i>distorting</i><br />The truth you see, they're <i>replacing</i> it and kid<br />You're not the only one beginning to get the picture.<br />Skin that is ebony, blacker than pitch, hair that is whiter<br />Than wilderness snow, and cruelty that is fabled<br />Across history you know. The hush of a polar hillside<br />Holds their secret; if you hold a mirror to their name,<br />You get the word; if you read between the language<br />Of their game, you get the meaning. And they never<br />Stole the holy grail. Pretty soon you know,<br />They'll be accused of having ripped out people's eyes...!<br /><br />Think the next time you listen, or read<br />The carefully cultivated, immaculate lies.<br />And balance your options, plant your own seeds, <br />And water the fruit that it breeds.<br />Tend your own garden and mend your own business<br />And <i>careful...</i> your steps are on stones<br />Where their owner feeds, for he has freedom<br />Of speech and freedom to press your bones<br />Into a printing machine that spits out<br />Certificates of ownership–deeds inked with your blood.<br />We leave our signature every where we've been.<br />There're signs of us in leaves out there you've seen.<br /><br />And no matter what you believe, there is something<br />Outside that harbors us, protects us, loves us, preserves us<br />And seperates us into enclaves–each deserving its own fate;<br />Able or not, each to its own ability, <br />To transgress its own state.<br />And those whose eyes have drunk of the grail <br />And seen with vision clear, will fulfill their chosen <br />Destinies that they have held most dear.<br />And the rest in the end will be left without fire<br />While trapped in an endless galaxy...<br />While brighter eyes, between the frames,<br />Exist in actualized fantasy!<br /><br />The moral in this cryptogram is equal to the curse–<br />It's up to every individual to tell the genuine from the worse<br />Reflection lost amid a myriad in a labyrinth of mirrors.<br />Among the countless echoed ghosts <br />Only one is without error;<br />Instilled with pure faith, this one hatches in the world<br />And spreading a cloak out, dissolves into darkness unfurled<br />Under starlight and coiled up in a cavern <br />The secret is hidden and learned in reverse <br />By the few who have made it from the beginning<br />For whose ears and eyes this story's been told<br />To dispel all fears and understandings of old.<br />And though the chances are slim men will comprehend–<br />Remember, <i>that this was not for them alone penned</i><br />And most everything I've written here<br />I never heard from them.<br /><br />Think without it, think within it,<br />Think throughout it, think about it.<br />For all that they have done without it,<br />Brighter eyes will never doubt it.shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-51548094597675062062011-10-17T10:30:00.001-07:002015-02-27T09:56:42.474-08:00HOUSE OF WINDOWSIt's when you begin noticing the small things that it gets you. <br />
I mean, by that time, you're hooked, as the saying goes. <br />
Snagged is more like it, I guess it's lucky they don't use hooks.<br />
More like being netted, really. Usually happens in larger groups,<br />
the rest get left behind. You know how it is. But then,<br />
it's only a matter of time, isn't it? Isn't there something<br />
about the Grim Reaper carrying an hour glass? I don't know.<br />
If not, there should be...huh. Maybe Father Time is the Grim Reaper,<br />
maybe they're one and the same. All I know is what I saw <br />
when I finally took that walk around my block. <br />
Well I guess I only been here three and a half months,<br />
and it was winter when I moved in. I always do get restless<br />
after the Ides of March. I went for a walk out under the platinum clouds.<br />
It was just on the verge of raining, but somehow I knew it wouldn't. <br />
It's a nice, quiet neighborhood. Lotta elm trees. <br />
I hooked a left at the first corner. As the concrete sidewalk panels<br />
flowed under my feet, I looked down and noticed first a few,<br />
then dozens more furry gray caterpillar looking things.<br />
As I stepped carefully to avoid crushing them,<br />
I noticed what appeared to be small, lamprey-like suckermouths<br />
of a darker brown which they anchored themselves to the sidewalk with. <br />
They were all in an inchworm position, a whole fleet<br />
of suckermouthed fuzzy gray caterpillars clinging to the sidewalk,<br />
as if against the wind. After a few more strategic strides<br />
they were gone, and I kept walking. I looked down to make sure<br />
none were clinging to the cuffs of my pants. All clear. <br />
I felt relief. The thought of them bothered me. <br />
I did not discover any more such clusters throughout the neighborhood,<br />
that day. Nor have I ever encountered any since.shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4436257770455173332.post-32672272725043501642011-06-25T22:52:00.001-07:002015-02-27T09:56:54.671-08:00PLASTIC OWL EFFIGY<br />We discovered the entrance to a universe halfway up a hiking trail. <br />We were exploring one of the canyons along the mountain range nearby.<br />We've made it a ritual every winter to hike up the trails after dark.<br />There is no one else to bother us or get in our way sledding back down.<br />A blanket of snow is draped across everything in gleaming silence.<br />Sticking to the well packed path is necessary to prevent sinking too deep.<br />We drag our sleds behind us as we wind up the trail with light sticks.<br />Placing them carefully at bends in the path as markers, little glow posts.<br />Facing our mortality in the winds of night on a mountainside is a blast. <br />Sharing the forest with night creatures reminds us of our relationship.<br />Our relationship to the occult sky and the starpoints spread out above.<br />The kinship felt with the wind answers the question where do we roam?<br />Anywhere we please so long as we can carry our hearts and eyes along.<br />Off a bend in the path about a half mile up the trail we spotted an owl.<br />It was up on a branch in the half gloom, starlight reflected off its eyes.<br />Unblinking it regarded us in what some would consider a baleful stare.<br />As birds have always been our spirit guides, we knew better than this.<br />Owls in particular are indicators of portentous probability, to us.<br />This one proved to be something more as it flew away through the gloom.<br />It looked back over its feathered shoulder at us indicating we should follow.<br />Its aerial path took it between older trees deeper into the sighing forest.<br />Having been literally born for exploration of the unknown, we followed. <br />The ticking forest welcomed us into its embrace. We left our sleds behind.<br />That owl led us back to the city and is now perched over our front door.<br />It turned into a hollow plastic effigy filled with smooth rounded stones.<br />It fools petty scavenger birds from swooping into our yard for scraps. <br />The sleds were recovered and now hang in the garage, warped with time.<br />The ringing laughter cascading in our yard brings echoes of this memory.<br />Our children are forbidden from ever exploring the mountain after dark.<br />We simply want to prolong their time with us here in our heart.shaunhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14054968054917843198noreply@blogger.com1