Something Blue
Monday, 24. August 2009, 00:15:58
Moonlight Confession
- Even the shadows sleep away. They have carefully draped themselves over red milke crates,
- odd books, various venerated yellowing papers; "On The Art of Love" "The Nature of the Universe" "Educational Philosophies" old stacks of A's; heaps of holey jeans and an ancient greening ice cream cone.
- They rest though casting a hushed glow across chilling tiles composing flooring strange
- soundless solitary floors unfamiliar to my feet.
- It is 1:34 a.m. at night. Anonymous night. Shortly to bleed into all the other uncutomary
- evenings chronologically surrounding it. Hereafter, blurred into one vague conglomerate of night memories entitled, "first semester at college - away from everything else."
- Until that far away recollection day, avalanches, crushing, white, blinding, sweeps of Thought
- crash through my brain. I become a captive: bound, gagged, brutalized, excruciatingly a-wake.
- I just don't fade into these natives' lives, continuous consciousness, always aware,
- Pleading and pining for a hole somewhere to fit.
- Clenched, unease, unrest, uncomfort is rescinded when a breeze breathes rolling stillness
- through my screened window, carrying sounds of a cricket symphony lit by the moon; Oxygen sopping with sound that has the texture of inhalable silk carressing every organ as it cascades deep into my lungs and diffuses peace throughout my body
- And I can feel it for once I can feel everything see everything comprehend everything my
- body senses. There's no straining in my head, each distinct movement of sound reverberates in my room and impresses itself onto the exposed pale skin of my upper torso, upon arms shoulder blades and the curvature of my neck.
- I know every sonorous crescent shaped, shimmering swirl branding my body. Not painfully so,
- no evidences remain on my skin, they're all just beneath my surface, glistening and glittering, blues purples and greens of all shadings, you can only see them by viewing the soul in the manner of perceptions just beyond logical thought's prisons of limitations.
- Blissfully, I relish every beautiful priceless release and reflection swimming in my relaxing
- mind. I savor the glimmering hope and secret sacred thought waning away with starving hysterical madness, that though I'll never admit to wishing it, longint for it, I truly am not normal and in fact am quite brilliant.
- to be discerning what the natives never see, those who liver their whole lives while awake
- provides my aching boxed in souls a bit of respite within a sphere full of allur and mystery enough to persuade me to keep on living, trying, striving, yearning.
- I softly sigh, revel in this peaceful moment, and push memory and discontent into a
- forgetful sea, all let go, and slip into sleep only to awaken as the balmy golden sun warms the shadows away, to live a different dream.
If this seems just a little to remind you of Allen Ginsberg's "Ego Confession," that's because I'm
using his line formatting a bit and echoing his title and ego a bit as well. It's something I started my first semester at college at 18, and after that kept working on. It's had many incarnations but I think I like this one the best. I've been trying to backup my notebooks, journals, snippets and things onto my external harddrive. I found this and some other things in a writing class folder. Thought I'd archive it here, in honor of my sister Lydia moving to her first semester at Indiana State yesterday. Ginsberg's work Ego Confession can be found here. I'd like to note the photo is a stock photo I edited on paint.NET and I am giving up hope that my globetrotting younger sibling will ever actually return my camera.
muse
WIDGETIZE