Jacque's Toast

"The world was a series of fleeting gratifications" (DeLillo)

Unspoken softly, the smooth silent story  spills the secrets. The glow of the moon  reveals all, yet, starry skies tell lies in response to my cries The seconds slip by, drip-drop into the sea, swishes fwish krrrrksh crescendos to the break, crux achieved through beads of raging glory  O hearken, heed, my angelic one:  a spoken story of heaven and hell and of tolling bells; the beggars music,  they tell Who’s story must be tell'd, i sit  shivering shaking  sobbing in the cold, sipping slipping stripping goes tongue, mind  body, soul flies away, splinters, cascading oh slamming, into the shining sun, exploding her rays  staying until the day fades, But the night will not come Share with me your heel of bread, a side of your bed, second skin you shed. I used to be one of you,  before i was dead. ...

Blue Piping on White Wall Shuttered and Shadowed Jerusalem Stone in a Tunnel Road Block Night-time Corners But First...and Biker in Market

A look in the mirror reveals everything you just drove by, glimpsed, glanced and gone. behind you is done, the game is over, nothing can be changed. I go further and further, but the sky will still flame and burn behind me,    and I will still stay hunched over, looking ahead to the cooling night feeling so backward for driving away.

As I sit here this evening quietly thinking about my return to the familiar, I read and find writing on when I sat quietly thinking about the unfamiliar.    Written on June 6, 2015 I just was sitting up on the roof gazing around at the beautiful sights and taking in the incredible variation of different sounds. Not a moment of quiet, but that did not mean that it felt unpeaceful. Starting with my head, tilted back on the hinges of my neck, staring at the night mixing in with the twilight, sponging the wisps of Tennessee shaped clouds a soft lavender, and the warmness of the temperature hugging me comfortably, allowing me a simple t shirt and shorts. The stars get to twinkling on the lower rim of the great sky, and brings my gaze down to the top of the most massive slab of rock imaginable, a rock that is shaped like a whales back- long, and huge and gently arched. With trees and greenery lining the top and coming down the sides a little, the rock juts up from the face...

  flowing water, a billion grains of sand, strongly perched rocks and loosely hanging flora Trindade