Posts Tagged ‘think’

I listen to music with the lights off.

It’s like being asleep,

like lucid dreaming–

aware of the sounds,

but only the sounds, the notes.

I close my eyes

and the music fills me up.

My ears are what hear it;

my heart is what feels it, and pumps

the feeling that is more than just one feeling

throughout my body

and my head is empty,

devoid of probing thoughts,

but quickly filled

with music

and feeling.

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Here’s a plank to think.

A response to an oral: an assembly.

Assemble quickly,

silently, or not so.

Better to think than preach, so they say.

So they say there’s a way. Even in.

An even you don’t. You catch.

An assault of lights.

A wink. A thousand brights. Yellow globes of strobe.

Yellow burning white.

Little planets.

Comets. Of whirring and flash

there is no worry.

And so to stick to mind.

And so stick a tongue, so stick a lip;

there are worse, and there are white lights.

And there are purses, there are people.

Where there are purses, there are people.

Mind not the blinding, the light

from up.

Think aloud.

“So they say.”

You say.

And there’s applause.

Have you ever seen a doorknob split in two?

How does petrichor make you feel?

Do you know what petrichor is?

How many people in the world sneeze at this exact moment?

Would there be color without light?

What do birds think about?

How many ants can lift a cherry?

What’s a child’s first reaction to snow?

How many people do you know with heterochromia?

What were your great-great-great-grandfather’s last words?

What were your grandmother’s first words?

How many purses are there in Japan?

What do bees think of humans?

Who was your first hug?

I exit my house

and walk out to

where I know it is quiet.

 

I’m the only other human

being here- all else is trees, and air.

I look up at the sky,

which always seems to give me

a new perspective.

Stare at the page

wondering what cosmic rules will

leap out of black numerals

and formulate sense-

then- ponder

how nature is frozen into fractals

and patterns,

and that you may not have

the solution,

but you uncover wonder just

by trying to find it.

Black night cracks its whip at its end,

daylight purges the sky

of the trickery of stars, the morose shadow

blooming over clouds and over the moon,

a false, wilting rose.

Sounds take root and rise as dawn washes a mauve wave

over hilltops and baselines of trees.

 

Persistent footsteps at the base of my skull

vanish. Knockings from outside disappear.

Gone are the thieves,

who misted into my house, under my door.

Gone are their twisted knives,

caked with old, brown dried blood–

black clothes spattered with old business.

Gone is the trance

night puts me under. It suggests I’m not alone

in my own home. I’m blind so

I cannot disagree.

Gone are the tricks

I fall for each night.

I once believed there were monsters,

I now think there are thieves.

 

Under flashes of sun

we see what is real.

When night falls,

we cannot even trust what we feel.