Sound is sizzling
through my dense, gray brain
in my droopy work capsule
plodding with seething, abrasive, sickening rubber remnants
torn from red balloons.
Music licks and pants at my sanity.
Poisoned, weakened,
my slouch blends and mixes and breeds with blue dust mites.
Music, she sparks her revolution.
Golden coins pop
out of the lone corner of softness in my brain
that is still alive and trying to be almost pink.
harmonies and rhythms take these very certain paths,
and my golden coins,
they are F-14’s; they fly hard in the same paths.
They fly.
I’m good now.
Flying away.
Harmonies and rhythms take these very certain paths.
I’ve met the purest joy
in the most massive lightning bolt
that smashes, shocks and torches all of the sickness
hanging in my paralyzing concrete parts,
and in my capsule,
and in the people who kick my soul over and over.
Harmonies and rhythms take these very certain paths.
Have you seen me fly with my music?
Faster than you can believe, the flight,
blurring and screaming and howling,
the grandest party that should never end
if there is a god, and there is a god when I fly.
There is. I fly.
I am flying far away,
and my silk robe from Kings of long ago
will carry all of the good of humanity
far away to these bridges
sparkling in silver and dressed nicely with my gold coins,
and we will cross all of these bridges in a splendor
being swallowed by wide open mouths of whales,
full of love, manifesting to all,
love that came from the tail of my King’s robe and has red and white
and whatever color you crave, the one that makes you cry in joy.
Harmonies and rhythms take these very certain paths.
This is the land where I love to go. The brightness.
But alas, the batteries in the MP3 unit run dead,
or someone actually needs something having to do with work.
We can have our bony slices of heaven; we can.
I declare.
We can.
stillfugue 
#1 by Evelyn on March 16, 2011 - 12:13 pm
God, so many parts of this sparked a smile…
“the grandest party that should never end
if there is a god, and there is a god when I fly.”
and this
“red and white
and whatever color you crave, the one that makes you cry in joy”
and also this
“We can have our bony slices of heaven; we can.
I declare.
We can.”
so good. so so good.
great write.
you can do no wrong…
#2 by Carl on March 17, 2011 - 12:09 am
Thank you. You make my day much better. Thank you for your time and nice comment!
#3 by Claudia on March 16, 2011 - 12:17 pm
can relate to this – and i like your use of colors …trying to be almost pink..
#4 by Carl on March 17, 2011 - 12:10 am
Thank you, Claudia!
#5 by claudia on February 19, 2013 - 11:16 pm
very cool seeing you at dVerse carl…enjoyed the re-read.. hope life goes well for you
#6 by Carl on February 20, 2013 - 6:16 am
Thank you, Claudia. With the post on dVerse, I could not help but bring this one back.
#7 by Victoria C. Slotto on February 19, 2013 - 9:16 pm
Nice to see you hear, Carl. I enjoyed how you incorporate music into the workplace, using color to create atmosphere. And the repetition of harmonies and rhythms that are such a part of our life.
#8 by Carl on February 20, 2013 - 6:14 am
Thank you for your comment, Victoria. This was an older one but with the prompt on dverse I wanted to share.
#9 by brian miller on February 19, 2013 - 9:37 pm
amazing…love the music in your piece…Music, she sparks her revolution.
Golden coins pop
out of the lone corner of softness in my brain
that is still alive and trying to be almost pink….ha…the creative imagery as well….nice piece…
#10 by Carl on February 20, 2013 - 6:14 am
Brian, thanks for your visit,and I appreciate your kind comment.