Falling petals. Old illusions.
Stirring out of time.
Out of place. Confined in my head.
Darkness unveiling more darkness.
The night wears a magician’s cape
With stars sewn all over
And many pockets with hidden paper flowers.
Withering expectations. Roaring silence.
Shadows hanging on a frayed rope.
Please hurry up dawn…
Lost without your break of new hope.
Thanks, Ashleigh, Stefan and bunny Eric From Accounts!
Critical mass: When the lethal recipe is followed to the last dot and measured in drops, and the nuclear soufflé is “just so”- there’s a reaction, a quiet onset, an unstoppable chain of events, a domino row racing towards pure destruction. Pure energy under the right conditions- the end of the world.
Critical mass: probably the human brain begins to understand the concept: when factors combine and the snap is inevitable. A short fuse, a lot of stress, trauma, drama, there it goes, the end of sanity. Enter: hallucinations, depression, mania, psychosis, neurosis; nothing that would show on x-ray or other scans, but none the less serious or less debilitating. And only rarely does one carry it in the genes so there’re no heralds…And even in that case, you still need some outside factors combined with your weaknesses to make the cocktail of a critical mass for the onset of insanity.
Critical mass: before you go to sleep, there’s a moment when the brain puts a lid on the outside world, the worries are swept over the blanket: no thoughts, no awareness and then sail on to deep sleep…The miracle of rest.
Critical mass: Eyes meet eyes and then there’s love, understanding, hatred, blank indifference or strange recognition…To paraphrase Donne: Love reaches noon and every second after that is midnight.
Critical mass: the coin is in the air…..either heads or tails. What flips it either way?
Take a sunlit garden.
Fill it with calm, contentment and quiet joy.
Sit underneath a tree.
Watch the airplanes and the seagulls
Criss-cross the sky
The freedom of their flying roads.
A pyramid next to the garden.
The only one in Rome.
A very curious tomcat, appearing under the archway
Almost imperceptibly cocking his head to the side
Wondering where we came from
Why we’re trespassing on his playground.
He waits patiently as we retreat
Then starts munching on the treats we brought
Crispy cat food, offerings for the feline god.
He is satisfied, with a look that says, now you may worship me.
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