They woke me up with a startling shock which featured the sharp ringing of an emergency bell. Without a fire to attend to, the cops and firemen searched the building and found the culprit to be an over heated piece of toast. The rest of the night, worthless for sleep, leaves only the opportunity to write and reflect in a half conscious state upon the moment that was shared between us all...
Under a cloud of toxic smoke and with the lingering threat of atmospheric thunder claps, the sharp elbowed lances of lightning ring forth across the valley as he stands, silhouetted, holding still despite the gaping eyes of the local rumour mill.
Full of honor and an inflated sense of self destiny, watching desire burn into a distant, steaming pile of shit, he finally grasps that the moment for which he waits is more obscure than those ripened fruits he had held so tightly in his nervous palms as a child.
Sincerely ignoring the way he should stand alone among the masses as they wander the various barrios leaving a trail of sorrowful misconceptions, he laughs at the remaining fog of war...
That being said, distinct carvings have come to define a class of furtive totems (in museums), revealing the passions of sheltered animals and exposing the sacred temples which exist within the shadows of his darkening paws.
We have brought you here and now, today, to find the very values and ideals which have been so close and yet so far from our grasp. I have confronted the ruined remnants of the unforgiving toast and found only blackened truths under an electric web.
We are happy to find ourselves here - happy to look into a neighbors eye and see the tranquil peace blow away the shadows of these long forgotten memories. Happy to ignore the smokey tears which drip ever so slowly from my eyes into the gathering puddle at my feet.
There is no escape from this nuclear event. Here we are as we are:
Tho much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,
One eual temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
-Alfred Lord Tennyson
While the feathers flutter and scripts are written, as bubbles rise and grass grows greener, we assert a true sense of ourselves. Alas poor Urick, I knew him well, Horatio, a man of infinite jest.
While the feathers flutter and scripts are written, as bubbles rise and grass grows greener, we assert a true sense of ourselves. Alas poor Urick, I knew him well, Horatio, a man of infinite jest.
Paz afurea. Hicks 2011.
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