Sunday, August 8, 2010

WEEEEEEEEE!

WEEEEEEEEE!
Ooh little winged one
Wings like the skin so thin of a citrus sliver
As close to invisible as visible can be
It’s how we get around
We’re free, we fly, we’re sky, we laugh
Deep from a belly and up from a glint
between the corner of your eye,
full moonlight shadows pouring branches,
and the noses of small children.
From these places mists quintessence,
the waves of the world
no matter
Which ancient tribe or modern cult is naming

There’s something the same then
Threads like spider lines and bass lines and long lines
The pupil gleams which remind you
and I and he and she and it and they that
Their existence is only as pronouns,
conceptual frameworks that lull us to forget our fairy nature
-    the big flapping shimmering
weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
The original source of Technicolor visions
The tickling joy that sprouts in a chasm, and
shoots a geyser through the entrenched routes of muck and

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! are here
To spray music, pull open tense shoulder blades missing stunted wings,
twist the cardboard cutouts where reality is solid, safe and suffocating
Into a velvet, burning, shimmering, ethery weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Inexplicably connected to the lives of each one
So that you and I and he and she and they can
bring together the quivering barely visible line
between whichever dot is held in the solid
and the great gasping wailing
whispering we,
The never-ending lines
from many points at once.




Time is hot water to brew in
Divine mother time
Holding imaginations of air as flexible
and trees as solid
The rhythms passing through two minutes
Fingers stroking steel chords out of
wood curved like a woman

Morning bed rolls in the sunshine never
fall behind the eternity of a seven minute snooze
breathing forever for twenty
The liquid that surrounds and brings out
our essences is hot
Wide spread molecules chattering and dancing
and wiggling, spreading, coming together
Bubbles popping into the air, transforming
The ripple of bubbles following
one another in a smooth spiral
of bird wind dances

Moving through the boiling explosions
plants alive dance and die
Twirl off a singing root to come to
the fairy reaper
Dried and saved and blended
mummified and seeming dead until
just the right hot ribbon swirls through
and revives an essence of flavorful
healing, dewy dances
The plant’s seeming time with us is
never over

Creative Commons License
WEEEEEEEEE! by Jessica Tumposky is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.



Creative Commons License
Time is hot water to brew in by Jessica Tumposky is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

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