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A NORMAL AFTERNOON Dec 90 Afternoon, an infinity of raining. An ability to appreciate the dull would come in useful, but concentration on extremes is more fun. The sparks of excitement over blank pages and silent tape remain. I just watch my hands do their work. Occasionally my head becomes a theatre for angels and yes I know how that sounds to you. The mad poet is wearing camouflage trousers for the coming war and bare feet for the aftermath. I am smoking in the bathroom and asking how long have I had these delusions of reality? I will throw two thirds of everything away next week and hone down to essentials. Becoming more than tired of treading water with those who are afraid of the sea, tired of explaining in laymans terms that one touch of truth is enough to uncover each day. ‘Well at least I tried dammit, at least I tried’ I am in love with a girl, I am alive in this love. Tomorrow I could be too depressed to be able to kill myself, that’s how it gets around here... Turn a blind eye to my funny side. But now there is a light in my head because of this peace - a silent lesson. I use certain key words for direct action on the soul and it works for me. These words do not lose their truest meaning, written in the flow. Each time I write the word ‘LOVE’, everything that it means, comes to life in my heart. This is free expression. Seconds of pure quiet within. Of course the rain continues to fall. The bathroom no longer smells anything like one. This is another normal afternoon and I am higher than Heaven on life, somewhere on the road to Damascus and changing… Believing. Do you know what I mean? ///Typing out for the site, 14 years later, I remember all, meditation with a cigarette, calm before the first (in a series of three) Gulf War/s. No explanation needed, all here. present and incorrect Aint lurve a wonderful thang?./// |