ALL IN

There's a place - you know - those travels in the night, those mental 'sneaking out of houses'... there's a place. And in that place, reality is but illusion, it has no bearing on the intercourse flaming faces or the sensations freely rebounding when two fleeing beings meet and fill the empty spaces left by others who can never sate them... because they know not their existence.

It is a wondrous place where sentiment prevails - unfettered by the mundane minutiae of living - and there is never any dark sky; even the deepest night shines bright with starry hankering. Wishes made on those stars may never be but wisps of longing yet still they are whispered; just loud enough for one to hear the other voice them.

This place - this magical other-self incursion into mysterious assignments is not accessible by all - no not at all. Only those braving undue daring and a connection to the mystical and - you can only ever walk within it if you can. And you must be all in, all given over; everything surrendered to this being within.

No logic defines it and no duty binds it... this place of freedom and of grace and startling revelations like wildflowers in the Spring breeze; lightly bowing this way and that... obeying each brief tender new gust of yearning as it so gently brushes past. There is no tangebility to any of it. You cannot touch, you cannot hold, only send breath as gust... as parables untold.

Do you have any idea? You and the you wallowing in delusion and the stagnant status quo - do you know just how near you are? This place is all around you and within you and - without you it would not exist, see! You have but to step aside and step within it when it palpitates - those fleeting moments caught in mid-flight between life and sleep...

No, not a dream you sensible yet synchonously asinine buffoons; this place is real.

Reviews

[Davidgeo]

Two words.... 'word', 'economy'

You must refine your words and pace or turn to prose and expand. This is too abstract for it's form.

[Elise Anton]

I tend to agree with you... was one of those long nights when waffling was prevalent... filling the hours. No one around, you talk to yourself right? And I talk a lot those times. Point taken.

[Davidgeo]

It's still relatively good as it is.

[Elise Anton]

Relatively good is at least some progress from outright crap - which I have spat out a lot of in the past - still searching for some/that illusive state of 'art'. I accept that.

[Davidgeo]

It's all art. All of everything we do is a type of art. "He must be quite aware of the obvious fact that art never improves, but that the material of art is never quite the same." ts eliot.

"It ain't easy bein' cheesy" - Chester Cheetah

[Elise Anton]

Oh blessed are those quotes and links you keep flinging my way. They send me chasing down the cause. Of course. Everything is a 'type'. I guess what I am still reaching for is that breathless moment of reading back and knowing I didn't write something. Consciously that is. Like someone else wrote it, like there's no 'me' in it? I need to get out more.

[Davidgeo]

Ts Eliot was not just an awesome poet... he was perhaps the most insightful literary critique of the 20th century. He wrote more prose than poetry.... "Tradition and the Individual Talent" an essay by TS Eliot from around 1920 or so. Find it and read it, you will like it I'm quite sure.

[Davidgeo]

"Critic" not "critique".... what the fug? Auto correct is fired.

[Elise Anton]

I 'did' my Elliot time in my late teens... I perhaps need to revisit with older eyes. I don't know how you use that device. Tried it once and swore never again. I don't hold auto correct errors against those who use them though. Funny, those machine errors are easy to spot these days...

[Davidgeo]

If your savvy you can have your operating system spell check every text box.... but it's not worth it if you type fast and edit loose.