FLIGHT FROM WET RAYS & PALM TREES

 

The voices of consciousness

They will one day speak

“You did it, but you failed making it count.”

“More than enough time, but not nearly enough push or courage.”

“It takes more than dreaming to set a dream in motion.”

 

These voices

They may well be onto some

Thing

 

Days spent in a chlorinated manhole

Spinning to and fro

Sinking up

Rising down

All backwards

 

The way it’s always been done

For me

By me

Because of me

For the hours spent gazing as greedy lines of dark tide ate away golden earth

Made not a damn shred of difference

 

A mile and a half trek through rich wilderness

Day by day

“How may I help you?”

“How may I bag you?”

“Paper or plastic?”

 

“F**k me in the ear or the eye, take your pick.”

 

Plastique uncertainty, exploding the sunshine era away a day at a time

While in the meantime

On second thought, f**k it

It has all been meantime

 

Nothing happened

 

Nothing to shove me forward while I moved forward

I wouldn’t let it happen

For some unknown reason

 

That?

That was always my own fool fault

 

Palm tree palms will wave at me from within jagged wetland crannies from 30,000 feet down

While obesity may sit next to me and snore through flight announcements

 

Treacherous awareness will howl at me

 

“Why didn’t the time and the race count in the end?”

 

Gators and carrion birds

Coons and serpents

Herons and hawks

Venomous arachnids

Beach bunnies on elaborate towels on the edge of the surf

Sudden thundershowers backed by dark and menacing banks of fluff

Punctuated by forked electricity against the sun

Grass that burns nerve endings, one chlorophyll needle at a time

The heat of wet intensity that nonetheless vaporizes biological liquor

 

All these things with thoughts at a million miles a split-second

 

Thoughts of consciousness that will assault me, undoubtedly

 

In the midnight hour, my mind will be set alight

 

Blown apart by

Doubt

Self deception

Anger

Terror

Defeat

Acceptance

Knowledge

 

Relief?

 

One day, a week from now, I’ll wake with something like a solid plan in mind

 

Something like a future will walk from within the shadow of uncertainty and abruptly break the nose on the face of rock solid, can do can’t do will inside

 

At last, I’ll KNOW BETTER

 

The next time around, an unscheduled flight won’t look so bad

 

On the other side of things

Reviews

[Rob Luciano]

I feel ashamed that it has taken me an entire month for me to come back to this piece.

I will say, I must say this...My friend, my brother, you are a top notch alchemist. Is a write not but an alchemist, I say? There are twenty-six (I'm right about that) in the alphabet readily available and open to everyone. The trick is in the transmutation of those letters into whatever the writer decided to portray. From 26 insignificant letters you have transmuted beautiful pain.

I wanted to fix it, it's uneasy on the eyes, the structure...but that's become irrelevant. There are so many quoteables I don't even know where to start.

Beautiful imagery


"The way it's always been done
For me
By me
Because of me
For the hours spent gazing as greedy lines of dark tide ate away golden earth
Made not a damn shred of difference"

mixed with raw prose

A mile and a half trek through rich wilderness
Day by day
"How may I help you?"
"How may I bag you?"
"Paper or plastic?"

"F**k me in the ear or the eye, take your pick"

This marks an sick kind of understanding in your life. Understanding, that will bring peace and health to your soul. I know this is something very difficult for you to do, laying open in front of the world for them to see....

But it's cleansing, beautiful...you can make a mess and not have to apologize. It's better than any shrink or drug Billy Gate's money could buy.

And best of all, you're good at it. You have great potential.

Suffice to say that this piece hit me so hard that it took me a month to be able to look it in the eyes.

[Rob Luciano]

I have to come back and re-read this.

[Wendy G.]

you've always had a beautiful voice, and it shows here. this is written with the feel of someone who is tired from some long journey on the homestretch with the clarity of hindsight as his companion.

[Hedra Helix]

ahh but beyond all that...... and im not even suggesting you negate growth, yes brotha find yourself/ see the state you be/ strive to fix it/ as we all are/ as we all are/ you are not alone on this quest, but youre completely incharge of your own, yes.
But beside all that... you are an exceptional writer.
I do not lie.
And now you have one more folder of myriad of perceptions from which to draw and make your words more vivid.
Two roads bro, from this point forward/ one to fix the inner stalls of you ways about life
second to forge the outer fruits of a destiny well within you grasp.

Be a writer, focus, live it.

Dont get caught up in the lazyness of complacency, nor mope without recording the depth of the darkness to cadaver and use for future endeavors.

Youve become an amazing writer (with solid control) in the time Ive known you,
why not join me in my insanity here, and determine to forge a hole into a stronger future by applying the sheer mettle of your will. after all what is there to loose? being already accustomed as you are to the feel of the fire.

I believe in you, how about you?

Its a concrete place to start.