Lost schedule
Location unknown
Science spoke to me
Pointed the way
My future self guided me along
White beard and reparing a bicycle
Walking along lost lines of dusk
Broken tractors and old wasted shrubs
How I want the truth
But I won't wrestle it out
How I seek knowledge
But I'll make do
Beauty disappears and reappears
getting too close
Rubbing against me
Found my way through some labyrinth
Junkyards from last millenia
I felt the world move under me
Readjusting
Life was a school
God a scientist
Where are you?
Suddenly there
Giving yourself to the moment
Surrendering to reality
Submitting to uncertainty
Find yourself immortal
A ritual in itself
Deconstruct my ignorance
The sureness of my ego
Renew my source energy
I felt the world move under me
The was you looked at me
Mistaking me for old chaos
something wth lightening and gold trim
I felt your hips move under me
readjusting
Giving yourself slowly over
Opening your world
Destiny hostel trying to find a room
Somewhere to sleep for the night
Study during the day
Find a part time job
Live like the manual says
Every nerve and every vein
Fired up like lava in caves
Saw the second story
Coming down from the third
Twice the life packed into half the frame
Riveting between slats of wood
Does beauty glue gossip
On a marron wooden deck
Out into the sun which I fell into
Moving between the slats
Losing the sense of time
Losing a nice golden chunk of sanity
Know yourself as prohibited
Your code lets you in no longer
The door is locked
Memory of the deck cracks and fades
In sacred pools children played.
Deciphering what freedom says.
The way water hindered gravity.
How it amplified their activity.
Parents learned to follow their offsprings notions,
rediscovering those lost childhood emotions.
It was not simply a celebration away from home.
They were attempting to create a special moment.
One they hoped to extend much past twenty four hours.
Whose events would inspire glee that never soured.
That part of who they were together would fuse or align.
Making the return to daily life smoother and refined.
Sometimes the world gets cultivated like a flower.
So that pure joy may manifest even if for a few hours.
In the blessed pools children sprang like seedlings.
They were deciphering sensation freedom.
The way the water softened gravity,
How it enhanced their festivity.
Parents suddenly learned to be children again,
Rediscovering feelings they could not explain.
It was not merely games of pretend,
But an attempt to make time extend.
A moment they longed to continue all day,
Whose experience would keep memory from decay.
That part of who they were as one,
Fuse together, under the sun
Heed, even in those hours few,
Brightness lingers, unbound and true.
She was looking for herself
the fields down to the wharf went on for kilometers
The deep hollow hills of ankle high grass
She ran through that grass out running me
She reached the pools
Sacred broad sunlit pools
Where the divine people were set to bathe
And their children to experience joy
Her life was pools and meadows
I pleaded that God give her everything
As she was tragically busy giving to others
very few who reciprocated
People I was too childish to forgive
when she approached life with open hands
she was those sweet meadows
She was those pools of blessing
Nothing cut her or robbed her
The sky reached her and assured her
Under a ton of pain she hadn't deserved
That she was working through
Like a gulag survivor
Using her remaining energy to change the seasons
From winter to spring everyday
naturally with a smile and a knowing
So much beyond anything I could become
I was just the observer
She was the meadows and the pools
i was lost in numbers and theories
She sought the tangible experience
The basement tour was our only other go to.
Accompanied by the CIA and FBI reps
Using their jargon as if we were supposed to know
I wasn't impressed, the acronyms and abbreviations
Oversweetened and childish
Something moorish for the cornsyrup addicted palate
So into another stupid exclusive elevator we went
Into another level entrance with wirey guards dressed in black
Receptionists whose excess of make up dropped onto the register
Where we signed our names and scribbled dates and hours
All very dark and official, smitten with their own formality
We were escorted down a long steel corridor
Then down under to the basement of the city
Here only the privileged few were allowed
As we arrived the people exiting seemed disappointed
Not a tangible real disappointment
But one that had concocted en route to appear to cool for school
Expressing their displeasure at the tour and all included
How much they were expecting beyond what the experience offered
But it was an amazing whole empty town waiting for survivers
built hundreds of meters below the city for end times
He was disinterested as we sat down on his sofa
We must at the very least pretend to appear important
They interviewed us for two minuted and the president blinked
Overzealous I told him of my ambitions
Ever get the feeling when you bore others, somewhere someone dies
We went downstairs to wait for the next part of the tour
The lobby was fancy and they had hired serious faced people
To walk in and out of their offices denying entry
Even with all of the documents and proof of paid permission
We stood by the large window waiting for the next rejection
It was formal and polite it felt like restaurant food
I needed a napkin to clean my lips
