Time — Time Is Not Consistent — Morning Papers VIII
The Planets Interlined to The Play Of Sex and Memory
As life unfolds in couplets or disquieting aloneness — As the heady couple arouse and inspire each other in the firmness of their excitement in that sheeted bed, All else around them remains in variegated virtues in sex so firm. Even after the sheets become so utterly soaked; The moments after don’t seem to be holding much for them, Till the shock of a phone interrupts their sex.
So many are left into lies and tardy quirks of memory; The quirks and qualms — so many lay back, aghast at how unsolid the feeling and the passage of time is.
Even in happiness and contentment — especially by arousing scenes — the memory of it on the person quickly seems to fade; though for some, it isn’t always the case.
The vastness of the disappearance of moments just had between individuals is like Hopstoch played between Planets and the Billions harboring the multitude out there.
Some burn up in embers and are sucked back away into the firmness of a consummating hole — others freeze, and linger on too long, even after their warmth by Sun or some other fringing source is long gone.
I’m using these images of Sex and Planetary vastness not because I haven’t done so yet, yeah, but also to convey the trickiness to detain the knowledge from person to person — all have their gravitational fields, whether it is through the lines of memory or by the simple hooding nature of those surrounding somebody; to calculate it all, for each person floating through the drenched streets would be like to observe all the planets — constantly changing, constantly casting doubt upon you, it’s brilliant, really brilliant let me tell ya, for such complexities bring out the complexion of existence; they harbor a similar façade, but the scorn of the years under it all is where it is all at!
If time was so linear, not only would I be out of a job but I would’ve been stumped a long time back — ironic as that last statement is… Ah, Time — where’s a big, friendly lever when you need one? To dissipate you all away, Ah!; Never — not on your nelly!
It is a queer trick, to stare at a painting too long — especially the background, and hold it up to the aspects of the foreground.
Just a little thought for you there and with the painting of this piece.
But I believe we have come to a natural end here. Just a maddening — and believe me, it could be a far more maddening piece than it is, but I halt myself, though I’m getting the sudden impression it is slowly becoming the maddening piece by this interjection of mine. Well if it does, it does and if it doesn’t — it may not. Ah, believe me, if you ever need a guard distracted, I am your disruptive influence, I could have literal plays played out through the medium of me and my memories — I don’t need another for conversation; Oh, luckily I am not contorted back a few decades, they would’ve locked me up somewhere as is the usual banality of human fright: Chuck it out from sight, and lock it away from all hearing and sound yet it will still linger in the mind without some permeable justice attained in said mind of the person that chugs!
Ah, Doctor — Hush! So there we are.
Ta-ta Now — Stay brilliantly offhanded as you be; especially if it is to disrupt a disruptive influence like myself.
Ta-ta.
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