Arrival Time Undisclosed

        Stick Your Neck Out ~ Philip Brent Harris

Peace is Purpose, Nonviolence is Strength, 
Diversity is Unity, Empathy is Empowerment

~~~~~

Arrival Time Undisclosed

Wandering into my neighborhood at night
Wondering what water in gutters gurgles,
What it chuckles down drains, in a deluge
But my face turns to eye distant dwellings
Their lights seen from atop a hill I climbed
Spellbinding, sweet singing, I hurry down
Near, dulcet, I heara softly alluring siren
Houses close their eyes one by one, sleep
Revealed and obscured by clouds and fog
Windblown smog and mysterious shadows

Siren song continues, steps pace with mine
Making all my thoughts tangle and entwine
Glance up to the swirling dome of the night
Open my eyes see what’s rarely in my sight

Now these houses gather near, silent fallen
Silence, solitude which occults space entire
Dwellings by me, muted and mum save one
I hesitate, enthralled by a mother’s lullaby
Transported by its tune of time, tenderness
Music and song to sooth my savage breast
Wait, are there words to hear, saying what?
Allusive but illusive, because I’m not certain
Barter a broken, bewildered, blind beggar
Taut temper untied, battered body balmed

Within the land of nod my body’s laid low
Dreaming within unlit space, I must let go
Serenaded, my soul arises and comes forth
Steps sure upon the sea of night henceforth

Freed now from perilous perpetual motion
My constant chase, hither, thither and yon
Squealing con men quieted, my ears unplug
Dazzling light darkened, my vision unveils
My frail burden, flesh, blood, bone healed
Eternal mysteries exposed, reality revealed
Risen in glamour like each glorious sunrise
Puissant, stronger than an autocrat or army
Still, less important than any infinitesimal,
Indivisible connection, time, space or void

Join ethereal hands with me, each to each
Apart yet whole, links, a chain continuous
Of all, self-aware, unaware, everchanging
Unseen, vast, unexpected tempo, terminal
Powerful connection, integration, ignored
Hidden within frail flesh, fragile conduits
Blood, nerves hold our lives in utter thrall
We believe we’re the fiddler, calling steps
Our dance turns, whether we call the figure
Swirled into the music of celestial spheres

Serenaded, my soul arises and comes forth
Steps sure upon the sea of night henceforth
Freed now from perilous perpetual motion
My constant chase, hither, thither and yon

Clattering, cacophonous calamity. Shocks
Startled aware, I lie snarled in soggy sheets
I push up onto my elbows, then my hands,
My wrists bending, angle irons, buttresses
Unable to support memories of my dream
Cat, Luna, lands ere my feet find the floor
Launch off my dresser, timed to annoy me
Saunters past my keys, her jangling prank
Sly, her face turns, toward me, then away
Her whiskers shrug at her triumphal game

Luna flicks her tail, in her ritual’s blessing
Then sashays slickly out the door, smiling
Squinting, I observe her, knuckle my eyes
Until Morpheus’ face turns, and I stand up
Notice I stand apart, a step behind myself
I shove my feet into battered blue slippers
Tumble from my room, now wild for relief
Hit the bath light switch, to stand wincing
Needles in my eyes steal last of my dream
Rarer than reality, the near or far horizon

Flop onto the potato-shaped couch-divot
I pick up a book, open it, stare into space
Read the same sentences again and again
I swore off the internet, like a day in lent
No matter; I remember not a word I read
Corral the remote; I’ll watch TV instead
The flickering blue tries to lull me to buy
Amid war films, cop shows, shouted ads
Con men and violence, exacting their toll
Like Oliver, still hungry, deep in my soul

Can my dream tell me where we might be
Or mere fabrication manufactured by me
Like Oliver, still hungry, deep in my soul
Con men plus violence, exacting their toll

Hunger for peace, but others want power
Where are the breadcrumbs I may follow
So hungry, I ate them, lost my way home
Have I any nuggets of wisdom to scatter
Sweet notes on a score, a new siren song
Close your eyes, listen, wistful and sweet
Open your heart come to share it with me
As Luna lies purring in my lap, somehow
To tell me life should be all play and love

Luna exists now, in every moment, dream
Moments I live, a moment behind or ahead
Time to recall future sorrow, no time to live
My eyes fall closed, hypnogogic surrender
Put a conch to my ear, to hear mild music
As I sit musing, at sunset, on a sandy shore
Pieces of a life’s detritus float by me, signs
My desires and regrets, long forgotten toys
Prized wooden stagecoach, six white horses
Gone to some child in need, guilty remorse

Scatter bits, my life on a path in the trees
Clues, words or smiles, or a road to follow
Help me, some other in some other when
Shine on bright days or under starry nights
Compassing the trails to journeys onward
Close our eyes and trust to climb stairways
Crossing crevasses deep on storm-blasted,
Wood-slat, ice-rimed, rope-strung bridges
Holding tightly to reach heights unknown
Mountaintops, with vistas open all around

Spreading beneath, cities and countryside
Forged as sharply as a sword at my throat
Mayhap, ill-polished, shining future jewel
Or ancient, tattered hamlets of crude huts
In idyllic meadows, amber waves stained
Embattled bitter landscapes, barren, grim
War ravaged wasteland, no voice, person
Alone, never seen in the searing sunlight
Shadowed in deepest dark, without hope
Sin, sans sanctuary, shelter or sustenance

Con men and violence, exacting their toll
Like Oliver, still hungry, deep in my soul
Can my dream tell me where I might be
Or mere fabrication manufactured by me

All value lives in the eye of the beholder
All you imagine holds true for everyone
Truth for everything since the beginning
Alpha.to Omega, in pure spirit awareness
Channeling the dance of opposites, atoms
Life the universe and everything, we live
Yet I, myself, am all too often misguided
My eyes open, hearing but my own steps
Terminal known, arrival time undisclosed
I am neither composed nor stilly reposed

Scatter bits, my life, on a path in the trees
While I espy only forest, help me, please
Terminal known, arrival time undisclosed
I am neither composed nor stilly reposed

Minutia of our lives, constantly reposted
More crumb dropping, to prove we lived
Affirm we’re alive, must matter somehow
Arising and retiring, every day exhausted
Violence fills vision with screams of pain
Gross greed composted, reeking effluvia
Noxious, nauseating, tainting our breath
Most pretend not to notice, act uncaring
Hope their moments here brightly gleam
Don’t sink into the muck and mire of life

It is four AM, and I realize I am not abed
I’ve passed my night awake yet unaware
Theta waves to dull my brain to stay sane
Still sure some may thus be lost, afflicted
Lash out, angry, uncertain and oh so afraid
Bully children who would torch our house
Slaughter all, hide their weakness and fear
Goaded by terror, unable to hear any notes
Played in our symphony, except their own
Droning, incessantly, till nothing remains

I wonder if I am their brother or comrade
Handicapped by my battles, all existence
Able to see my single color in my life’s art
Follow my single thread in life’s tapestry
Speak one word at a time, in my time here
Until all that remains is garbled gibberish
And the only voice I recognize is my own
Surrounded by murmuring madness, deep,
Viscous as quicksand in old movies on TV
Inviting, enticing to slip beneath, to drown

I choose to struggle on, swimming beneath
The briny deep turmoil, artful, unrecognized
Invisible indivisible, incredible, impossible
Unimaginable by any religion you conceive
I shall rise, a volcano’s fire deep in my soul
I shall raise my own island, be myself alone
Sans mermaids, unicorns, little green men
Focusing, on this now, I’ll spew forth reality
Molten lava of my truth, that I alone conceive
Continuing my new journey, unique unto me

Echo celestial spheres singing each to each,
Every and all, encompassing all possibilities
Disguised as a mixture briefly known as me
Sublimated, hidden, our landscape complex
I’ll delve into my magma, uncover my truth
I’ll separate and refine my perceptions of me
I’ll write its story till my story becomes clear
I’ll orate, sing arias, play etudes of my truth
I’ll paint its portrait, sculpt its bust or statue
Build it a house, where no other may dwell

Any may enter when its door is unlocked
Van Gogh’s genius, our vision unblocked
Today sees if contemporaries unlock it or,
All knowing eternity must open your door
Can my dreams tell me where I might be
Or mere fabrications manufactured by me
Like Oliver, still hungry, deep in my soul
Con men and violence, exacting their toll
Scatter bits, my life, on a path in the trees
While I espy only forest, help me, please

Siren song continues, steps pace with mine
Making all my thoughts tangle and entwine
Glance up to the swirling dome of the night
Open my eyes see what’s rarely in my sight
Within the land of nod my body is laid low
Dreaming within unlit space, I must let go
Serenaded, my soul arises and comes forth
Steps sure upon the sea of night henceforth
Freed now from perilous perpetual motion
My constant chase, hither, thither and yon

Terminal known, arrival time undisclosed
I am neither composed nor stilly reposed

~~~~~

Peace is Purpose, Nonviolence is Strength, 
Diversity is Unity, Empathy is Empowerment

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

See more of my creative offerings and opinions at:

Philip Brent Digital Art 
Philip Brent Digital Art and Photography
lifenart2@gmail.com

Brent Harris Fine Art 
Brent Harris Fine Art
brentharrisfineart@gmail.com

Vida Voices

Scriggler TPM

The Extra Mile
Art, shirts and other gift items

~~~~~

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Da-Mai-Sin 1979/412977902093791

 

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