2:09 p.m. In response to this poem^*:

I am the thing that goes ever on,
Exploring the universe's quadrants and corners,
Sending you letters, informing you on
The colours, the homeward, the musics, the borders.

Portland in morning shall burn ever on
Like the sun, like the sun, like the sun sun sun,
Creating itself each sunrise like dreams awaken
Responsibilities every morning within everyone.

I live in a dream. I move ever on
In new wonder, in new Portland, like an arc verging on
Infinite wonder, only breaking upon
The sun-dappled dazzle of your companion form,

Oh walk with me, beloved, through the night and the storm
And the calm and the blue, universe of you,
I am the thing that is steadfast and true,
I am the thing that moves ever on.

_*

{this by rebecca and donna, who wrote this on acid}


we are now exploring different quadrants 
of the universe but we pool our information
create the world and the clues follow
soon the clues will start to reappear
and the new home will reveal itself
our home is with him without him now
suspended in music
love
strange world
but
will be coming home again shortly

i have to recreate my sector
the soure sun upon sun upon sun
life
goal: same all move towards our pretty universe
like bringing ourselves to a garden
create one where it is magical again

the eternal moment before
everything becomes real
myth of eternal return
i love you

no one knows
i live in a dream
there is no way to describe the unbearable love
i worship
the limit
never reaches
as x approaches 0

portland
in the morning
walking
cold

i am the thing that goes on 

the Funny Show

agriculture poem

my life in the ghost of Bush

time-lapsed (part 1)

unreconciled

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Images are taken without permission from the fine and trusting folks at Folk Arts of Poland; please purchase something from them. Background music stolen without permission from Epitonic, Basta Music, and just about everywhere else my unscrupulous hands could grab something. No rights reserved.

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