A series of three posts that have nothing to do with much of anything.
They are simply random thoughts and impressions that I want to write down
and say things in a manner that makes me happy. Read into them what you will.
I am simply being myself.
M.Z.
...................................................................................
Opium.
arrangement for quill and vapor #1.
Summer withers and autumn arrives silently at first,
with flocks of field dusty little black birds on telephone wires.
There is a kind of unspoken urgency just beneath the feathers
cradling whispered longing for companionship,that takes flight
in waves turning them into shadow fish howling into ocean waves
of air.
Green becomes ocher in formless steps and vague sleepy lurches.
Smell the earth under the feet, ripe and smokey, it sings of days fading
old women at the graveside of a dead mother.
The sky is ripped open to reveal the bones of flying smoke, tattered,
racing into polar revelry.
Fallow fields spent and exhausted kneeling to the axe of the harvest.
This is my time.
My apocalypse, my dream time my epiphany.
Ideas bubble up from the soil and rock split by the staff of some
demented forgotten prophet.
I live for these days.
I crave them like drugs.
Autumn my high season of soul whispering spirit freedom.
No one takes this time from me on pain of excommunication and exile.
No on will be holding my heart from the shadow fish sky's.
How dare you try.
Never.
Never.
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