Tag: metaphysics

Incorporeal Double

~ Piece, of the Sky

TWW-WindSageAwakening

Ran awoke and stared up at the gray ceiling, colored only by the night.

She sat up slowly, in the white sheets, and looked at Alli. She got up and put her bare feet on the thin carpet. Her face looked back at her in the large mirror of their bedroom, a birthday present Kaan had brought over. She tried to shake herself of the odd sensation of the dream. Nealy’s cold eyes still burned into her – in the world, at the bottom of the well.

In the bathroom, Ran stared at the rings under her eyes. Almost every night, her sleep was horrible. She was lucky Alli was a deep sleeper, or she would have woken her up every time she got up to get a glass of water, in the middle of the night.

She wandered into the kitchen, her bare feet slapping softly on the tile floor. Maybe if she ate something she would fall asleep. Ran reached for some cereal but didn’t turn on the light.

In the dream, Nealy had looked just like her; had her eyes and red hair. It was startling. She had to laugh out loud, milk in hand.

Ran didn’t know how she had courted Alli. Alli was going places, untangling the depreciation and amortization for multi-million-dollar properties. Ran didn’t know why she had picked a surfer writer like her. Opposites attract, they say. She poured the milk into a bowl of Raisin Bran.

Sleep was already creeping back to her. Ran was glad. She’d never been a good sleeper. That dream. Ran had never dreamed she was in the well before. It had been like an out-of-body experience.

She wanted Alli to be happy. Maybe, she would open a beer and sleep in front of the TV.

Ran settled into a familiar chair and closed her eyes. She could still see Nealy, the double, standing in that dim study, drink in hand, as the grandfather clock clicked away, in the background. The darkness swam around her. Her Arne Jacobsen egg chair sat, like an island, in the middle of the carpet.

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Song:

Koyaanisqatsi – Philip Glass

A Heart Made of Ground

~ Piece, of the Sky

when i'm with you

There’s the rider.

The only constant is the horse and it’s always moving.

Ride down Main Street; pass in and out of the town.

Hear the hooves in the dirt.

Splash through the gully; stand in the stirrups like a jockey.

 

Stand up in the saddle. Put your full weight on the horse

Let it rear. Give chase.

Shoot out of town.

Ride down the canyon

into the ghostly horizon.

 

Down in the deserted places

there sits the owl and the cockatrice,

the stork and the dragon,

bones and lizards,

swine and ravens and unclean things.

 

When the horse dies, trod off

with graying clothes bleached by light

and shoes with soles that are falling off.

Gloves of thinning leather,

two silver pistols and spark and ash,

a target to shoot and never catch

and a hat that’s lost its firmness.

 

It’s not about the horse;

the horse isn’t the important thing.

 

Ride on forever and never die

even when arm bones fall apart.

Ride until outline, form and mold of body dissolves,

the water in the vessel pouring out,

unraveling large, sharp shards.

 

Nothing is permanent.

Ghosts are meant to exist in the desert.

 

A person of light stands on the black shelf above, beckoning;

it’s a form of someone who exists below.

 

There’s a human outline in the dust,

a space created by the wind,

a hole in the maelstrom.

 

There’s a rock formation that looks like a person,

There’s a person glowing in the night vision binoculars.

Run down the road at night.

Squint and never really see.

 

For every person out there,

there is a second person out there

living out the same exact life as you.

Out here, there’s only two.

 

A satellite dangles in the cold.

The skull of the sky shudders and turns overhead,

An arrow of light strikes in the darkness,

a thread pulling you over the gravel;

it’s pulled by an outline, a space,

stepping over clouds and stars.

 

Run, crawl, gallop and scramble

over dusty mountains to get there.

Give chase to the end, blue and frozen,

drenched in snow and ice.

Someone is flashing like a lighthouse

but soon that outline will disappear.

space