The Cloud Man and Ms. Hope.

Originally posted on themischiefmemoirs:

The Cloud Man approached with care and cause the woman he knew would have his answer.

Ms. Hope watched on as The Cloud Man lost his arms and his arched billows became wisps, preparing her remand.

In the middle at an apex approximation they spoke and exchanged a breath.

Their words came and went, until Ms. Hope and The Cloud Man bent.

Towards a touch. A closeness that darkened her over eager edges and evaporated his hole inside.

Unity, Reality forged as life and death converged.

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Method of Divining by Seashells the Movement of the Fed

Begin by placing a conch shell to your ear for a few moments
Arrange in a circle thirteen cowries
Do this on a square glass mirror without frame or backing
Pour the phial of anti-sense in the direct center and remember to regard the magnetic chirality of the Earth
The glass will shatter
Restrain the polarization refractors until the shards produce holographic rainbows
Place three sand dollars in a beaker of indigo in acetone
Apply gentle heat
Spin three times around and throw your hands up facing the Pentagon and scream “Ayiyiyiiii!”
Exchange the cowries for a Bangladeshi garment worker as in Africa in days of old
Set the garment worker to alphabetizing your books according to the Hindi translation, and with respect to their Turing-completeness
Throw the conch shell as hard you can against the brick wall of a bar that has exiled you
Throw one virgin hedge fund manager into the ball pit at Chuck-e-Cheese
Examine a trilobite in a museum, then steal it
Pour the dissolved sand dollars into the overturned trilobite within the squalid home of an independently wealthy junky
Take the junky’s hand and stare deeply into her eyes
Examine the pattern of the rainbows of the shattered glass of earlier
Flip a silver dollar high into the air until it comes to rest on the glass
Unless it lands on its edge the Fed will be blamed

Interlude 3

The driftwood of our lives
Washed up on some foreign shore
We glistened
But the sun was not amiable
It was fierce
Our dominance was unquestioned
But we knew not how to live
A spiritual deadening
Infected the nation-state
There was no truth in advertising
And all our wars came to naught
Consumer culture reigned
Even as millions languished
Permanently jobless
The driftwood of our lives
Washed up on some foreign shore
We did not recognize our new homes
But the animals and winds around us
Did not pause for our alienation
They went about their business
And we, perplexed,
Eventually tried haltingly
To get on with ours


Some dreams disappear

Some dreams grow in volume

The liters and pints collected

The drifting of the weather

The damage to the brain cells

The lifting of the weather

The collections of broken pieces

All along we collect

All along we dream

All along we sing

All along we ride

Coming down the turnpike

The semis barrel on

The snow flies out like slushy diamonds

All the dreams are collected

We walk into it with eyes open

All are collected and all are in dreams

We wander and wander and wander, and plant

We come to the fall in rising harvests

We dream of the day to move again

Simply jumping through the hoop
Running faster, too fast, losing the crowd
All the fire and the blaze
Not a single name
Not a single one
Trying hard to make an impression but they do not appreciate
A firehose aimed at a teacup
Take a breath, Take a step back, Relax, Slow it down for the mere mortals among us
They have not seen it all before, keep in mind…
And wait, ask for their plans
Draw them in, Bring them out
Build and discover

Flitting through the mines
Darting to and fro
Alerting all others to the mind of silence
Alerting all others to the matters of faith
Alerting all others to the peril of globes
Alerting all others to the danger of states
And in a phase of fluidity and grace, addressing a few of these, and leaving others to lie
And in a time of sand and greyness allowing others to clatter and multiply among the bleakness of the planes and infinite space
All accelerating away from one another
All dreaming ever of better days
And in the challenge of the winding down the leasing of the vacuum energy
And in the space of stars collating their victories
And in the mind retrieving and deceiving
All became ever the other rather than themselves, and being other departed from their domiciles and walked about the streets
Sending a message to the titans they shot the laser, not yet blowing their stars
In the mind of the times they were losing but not yet lost
In the mind of the times some wished to continue while others wished to end
In the mind of the times there was division; loss of ever more forces weighed heavy and cold
The thoughts were gathering, as did the others, gathering to the plasma streams
The losses accrued as some gave up
The way out was through, though this was not known

The sweeping changes are coming hard
Hard to go all the way down to no cigarettes
Hard to stay occupied all day without beer
Hard not to steal 40 cents to make a beer
Hard the angst and anxiety
Everyday I struggle
Every day I have s few moments of peace
Are there solutions out there beyond this?
Or just more of the same?
Is this addiction?
Is this intractable depression?
Is this just boredom?
Or is this just life, which I am not cut out to cope with?

The Runes at the Side of the Canyon

The edits are made and discarded
We walk into the silence of the desert
Policy states that none may be distinct from any other, except in those cases in which they may, but see disclaimer
There are times when the moon simply will not do for what you have in mind
All the times of loss are compounded into an aroma of strawberries
The choke points are there to compromise your resolve
Yet unbeknownst to you there were some ravens by this way last night
My feeling about the direction things are going –
– Let us not forget the orbiting of those blue shadows –
– Is that there is a strong wind coming,
And we must all be prepared to take to the sea
The wind
It comes
It is not for us to be here when it arrives
The moment is come to leave all familiar things behind
The moment is come to strike out alone

Not for one instant did I see the dynamite under congress
But in the ends of the alleyways,
There are cases when you must put your lenses on and study
The runes at the side of the canyon are powerful and foreboding
The chaos to follow will be as nothing compared to your inner shadows
I call on the strength of 1,000 shadows and Jesus Christ

Let us become parrots, and flap about in jungles
Let us become house pets, and lounge about in the sun
Let us become mice, and dance beneath the moon
Let us dissolve into two dimensions

Change the cases and change the game
Change your eyes and you change what you see
Change their purses and escape the country
Change is good

Slipping through the mire
Piling up our lusts
Dreaming forever of connection
I walk in quiet circles
Building a tower of words
Cycling all the way through despair and back
Really what am I waiting for?
Really what can go wrong?
I keep this fantasy alive forever
Talking into the silences
Waiting for my checks
Never do I get enough
Of looking at her
But so broke
And the answer uncertain

A swipe at the javelin
A swing and a miss
Your heart is still beating
It’s time to recoil
Watch out for your future
Watch out for your past
They conspire against you
And say you can’t last
Some people are coming
To try to help you
But you must be better
Than all you’ve been through
These chains and these fetters
Must come off at once
And I’ll tell you a secret
Even I was there once
The way out is through
The path it is narrow
The ship she is small
But work something out
Get results in this Fall