Wednesday, December 29, 2010

A CONVERSATION with A-Priori-minded Teacher and a Kin-like Student Violinist

.Sitting in liquid

Drained from obscure, intensely painful reality, I struggle to get out and catch something worth salvaging in my



................catch yourself a fish,

and ya gotta throw it back

unless your gunna eat

and poop it back out..."



"....Ew....Oh man, this guy's depressing..."

Ha. I ain't over-analizin'.

"So, what's your problem then, brah?"

Problems start in the mind, sire.

"Wha.. (turns to posse and smirks dumbfoundedly)"

What's the matter, padre...

"(Anger builds)"

..The colors ain't what they used to be??

"....."

Haha...You play your violin, but you don't play yourself.

"What...?

Yourself. You go to your job, and you return to your home; but do you return to gentle snowfalkes upon your futile lawn; gathering the dew as the dusk falls hush 'aneath the azure hues; Try not to think upon the strings of the fiddle...instead; try to find what silently plays inside only but your own mind, before what the strings actually play.

"...I'm sorry.."

.....

"Have you any way to turn my perspective around? Deep down, I...ugh...I'm sorry..."

- No!.. Go on...

"Well... alright well,...some of my closest aquaintances have possibly convinced me to question and consider more than I am used to..

Yes...go on..

"I....I can't."

My son; Men and women you've shared times among; saw the new millenium and laughed underneath the burning stars. Sure; your hue is yet bright; and so is your surfboard!

"I surf only in the summer, and though some have talked highly of my skill....I have talked with those who have seen far more thrilling waves in the winter..."

.....

"I'd agree all three of us share the same, distant feeling about this whole...experienti-ial conversa-tion, I guess..."

Enter through the next door you see, and that is all.

"(Looking estranged and bewildered)...What?"

When the next door opens, you shall succumb and move forward.

"...Well..."

........

"What if the door leads to...."


What......Darkness?


"......................................"

******************************************

This darkness you speak of...

"(listening intentively)"

...is a lame, and animated invention of human imagination?

".......(still listening intentively)....but you ask with a...question?"

Yes!....go on.

"........"

Go on, sire...

".....Well..."

......

"I forget..."

.............It is easy to forget when things at hand require your upmost attention due to their unorganzied, messiness.

"(Reflecting, silently)..."

I might add,....

"(Still reflecting and listening silently)"

.....That when you forget something...

"...."

.....It probably means it's unimportant to your destiny.....

"....?...."

..........For your destiny is the result of what you do with what you remember.




Thursday, December 9, 2010

Azure Lunar Moon (An Ode to New England)

Gashes and scrapes, hot water, duct tape
The Northern Air falls upon
the bustling townies with their New England outer shell,
who soon may walk on a pond

The mammals retire, and so does my bliss
My hands are chill-wind-kissed;
The winged go to Hell but New England they'll miss
Keep an eye on the time on yer wrist

Soon a bright blanket cast over the land
Frozen under the sun and over the sand
Reminds a good New England man
of things he does not understand

Pour me 'cup a' potato
Cook me a plate a' tea
A winter in New England hills
will chill you to your knee

The cubs are in their cardigans,
And the mother licks her wounds
Crescent shows the dark side
of the azure lunar moon