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<livejournal>
<entry>
<itemid>154194</itemid>
<eventtime>2013-08-16 18:10:00</eventtime>
<logtime>2013-08-16 18:17:37</logtime>
<subject>Hymn of Requisition</subject>
<event>
by Redwin Tursor By the by By the wonder By the request of the command Of the invisible prophet thing that tasks the mind With the need of grabbing what cannot be grabbed A yank against the thing that is the I Drowning in the proverbial bathtub of thought There are atheists in fox holes But there is a human need for something out there To call for help So in moments of darkness Where we float in the void Probing Seeking Yearning for something to grasp on to We invoke any invisible power That we think is going to answer And then advanced and evolved pattern recognition Flashes us signs And symbols And portents Of things that are Things that have been And things that are to come Somewhere in the chain of events Between when we ping the universe Screaming as loud As a tiny tiny grain of sand On a grain of sand can be There may be a magic dingaling A bell that tones And sends resonant harmony That tickles our imagination And our heartfelt fancy And makes us feel good But I don't see it. But that's the whole point Of being an ethereal thing Isn't it? There it is. There it is. I am yelling. Can you hear me God? It's that jerk Who was asking for something twenty minutes ago But I really mean it this time. Make the magic happen please. I'll walk like a pigeon And change my pattern Dance in the firm belief that the rain will come. The crops are dying. I am not above debasing myself Humiliating myself So I can get to an actual person At the end of the automated helpline that is the universe But if I don't experience it with physical senses You'll pardon me If I physically think I'm full of it And that I'm humoring the same part of my brain That that the pigeons use to get grain And if the knowledge of the physical universe Upsets and Offends My humblest and deepest apologies. In the mean time SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS That is all. Wonderful weather we're having. Have a nice day.
</event>
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</entry>
<entry>
<itemid>154528</itemid>
<eventtime>2013-08-16 18:19:00</eventtime>
<logtime>2013-08-16 18:26:36</logtime>
<subject>Songs of the Islands</subject>
<event>
by Emmit Other There is sideways time here In these sea mountains Far from the nearest shore to anywhere else Fire goddesses play Kissing the earth with their lips Raising them up And they are wondrous An ocean of the color of tears of joy They dangle happiness like a physical thing The outreached dainty hand holding a pomegranate Except its probably a dragon fruit Or maybe a mango But it could be a pomegranate Its not like they don't have those here Just not as much. I sit with my love On the short white sea wall Watching the crashing waves Watching the sun set It is marvelous. It is perfect. Ten days is not enough. And so I make a promise in my heart And with her heart in mine We resolve to return One day Until then A part of us shall always be there The better best days at the start of something magical Meridian of my life The place where magic happens As the whispers of the Kahunas offer perspective In secret mountain sea caves That only the laughing fish can hear I sit in the forgotten monument of kings Hand in hand With my soulmate The sun sets The lonely jetski island floating up and down The oars of outriggers move in pace with our wishes And the clouds on the mountain lift As stars come out to shine Stolen stars Under stolen skies But there is joy here all the same A mature resignation and longing For recognition and compensation But a going about their business nevertheless Maitais and bright color shirts and craft birds And shaved ice and masterful boogie boards And deep tans and wide smiles and protected reefs. These are the songs of the islands And I mean to sing them Taking with me A bottle of dreamdust In a bag of time Memories made for amberizing. So mote it be So mote it by So mote it is.
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</entry>
</livejournal>
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