SUR, SURF’S UP ON VENTURA HIGH
by
-------------- #MultiplyTimesSixtyNIne ---------------
Itself a Thing since the origin of matter, inside a holy of holly, a black hole’s singularity denial
Over yonder, beyond a crest of the foothills, the sun’s rising above the stone blind mind’s eyes
Of the rat trap dreams locking in on your Time in this Space, the graves are gaping wide open
Awaiting the lazy bones of the spirits who come and go without a Word, a final gasp of ZaZen.
On the train, things move while you sit at One, at rest for the duration of the stay in Noway
From the octave above and below the scale, notes are blown, plucked or fiddle-sawed away
Eyes tightly shut out the ambient light of the burning ball of god’s danmed creatures got afar
It was the only alternative, there was no other free choice, no liberty to move like a rock star.
Amazing ennui on the surface to the center of the DNA cellular chaos, surviving a cosmic cool
To see clearly without eyes or the glasses that focus the light into the all seeing mind of a fool
Way up or way down from the center or surface of the sphere, called mama home, that’s all It
Not you or me but anyone you know or are related to, stupid love of strangers, aliens’ #FitBit.
My ride moves ‘round curves on the One or on the Ventura, in the light of day, I’m The Dark
Never was a virgin illusion of the Sapiens, I chose the middle path to find the Way off the Ark
Noah and Adam had families from the same pool of nonsense, passed #FakeHistory to the All
Down the tracks where the brave fear to go, idle women walk around, there’s no today’s news
Hotshots with crazy ideas ‘bout how to get everything you want and need on bunches of blues
Strung together on a clothes line at a nudist colony of blind faith believers, a naked-ape doom
Mighty gas bubble, beautiful bones of a divinity’s shape, buried in Earth’s Big Sur sand dune!
by
c. Dimanche, December 8th, 2019 A.D. @ 7:07 AM PST
FINIS
W.W.A.R.D.?
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