Orange peelings

chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
edited February 2012 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Orange peelings (part I)

He sat me down
silk and satin pillows ran the span of everywhere
“just pull up a cloud of your own
or share a bed” he said

You have your recording instruments, yes?
referring to my notebook and pen
He asked me if I were ready?
“Are you open?” he asked, looking into my face from across length

“Yes I am prepared“
is what I verbalized
he then took my hand and opened it
he placed on my palm a crystal

Crystal northwest moon
I ran my fingers all over it’s ages
while holding all of its time
nothing could distract or distant
this beginning

I opened the door

The next day was that fast
fire glowed so quick it was all a blink
then a black switch
no stars
“but soon they will fly” he said

Again the cushions surrounded all the grass
all the wheat fields golden and windy
all the silk worms
farming against sunflowers and silver lakebeds
where shacks fill pleasurable desires
all sheltered by rusty tin roofs

The end table next to me
home of caged rabbit
eye level with me bird

I felt sorry for them
bird and rabbit

The lady on the floor
just loaded a dreamy needle
a strange shadow soon
when the rabbit gets jumpy

Every time

Tonight he said
“the drugs are growing for the future… each narcotic”

I was amazed by the rabbit's math skills
as his furry paw ran this calculator
adding and subtracting opium exchanges

Then the global toad
a striking figure
I was so lost … orange peelings
the smell of oranges

Writing the madness
I surrounded

he asked me
the colors
the sounds
and the silences

This is when I asked
for ink and said
“the glass bowl looks fun”

Five silk worms came through the door on pillows carried by diamonds
I was handed a root writing tool
rain for ink
he said “do not ever not have a pen, do you hear me?
And that is a warning.

to be continued...
for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."

Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • mysticweedmysticweed Posts: 3,710
    whoa
    cw
    good shit
    fuck 'em if they can't take a joke

    "what a long, strange trip it's been"
  • chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
    more of a instant thought
    kinda
    for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

    "Hear me, my chiefs!
    I am tired; my heart is
    sick and sad. From where
    the sun stands I will fight
    no more forever."

    Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
  • justamjustam Posts: 21,410
    The advice about the writing utensil was good. :geek:

    Damn it, don't EVER show up without a pencil (or in your case, a pen) !! ;)
    &&&&&&&&&&&&&&
  • mysticweedmysticweed Posts: 3,710
    chadwick wrote:
    more of a instant thought
    kinda

    well if this is how you write on the fly
    good shit, man
    fuck 'em if they can't take a joke

    "what a long, strange trip it's been"
  • prismprism Posts: 2,440
    peelings from a blood orange?
    *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
    angels share laughter
    *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
  • chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
    lettinggo wrote:
    chadwick wrote:
    more of a instant thought
    kinda

    well if this is how you write on the fly
    good shit, man
    no plans
    a tiny spark
    a vision

    go.................
    for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

    "Hear me, my chiefs!
    I am tired; my heart is
    sick and sad. From where
    the sun stands I will fight
    no more forever."

    Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
  • Godfather.Godfather. Posts: 12,504
    wish I had your visions for writing,that is incredible,your work just keeps getting better and better it's a constant amazement to me.

    Godfather.
  • this is fucking cool
  • rollingsrollings Posts: 7,124
    edited March 2011
    ..
    Post edited by rollings on
  • chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
    chadwick wrote:
    Orange peelings (part I)

    He sat me down
    silk and satin pillows ran the span of everywhere
    “just pull up a cloud of your own
    or share a bed” he said

    You have your recording instruments, yes?
    referring to my notebook and pen
    He asked me if I were ready?
    “Are you open?” he asked, looking into my face from across length

    “Yes I am prepared“
    is what I verbalized
    he then took my hand and opened it
    he placed on my palm a crystal

    Crystal northwest moon
    I ran my fingers all over it’s ages
    while holding all of its time
    nothing could distract or distant
    this beginning

    I opened the door

    The next day was that fast
    fire glowed so quick it was all a blink
    then a black switch
    no stars
    “but soon they will fly” he said

    Again the cushions surrounded all the grass
    all the wheat fields golden and windy
    all the silk worms
    farming against sunflowers and silver lakebeds
    where shacks fill pleasurable desires
    all sheltered by rusty tin roofs

    The end table next to me
    home of caged rabbit
    eye level with me bird

    I felt sorry for them
    bird and rabbit

    The lady on the floor
    just loaded a dreamy needle
    a strange shadow soon
    when the rabbit gets jumpy

    Every time

    Tonight he said
    “the drugs are growing for the future… each narcotic”

    I was amazed by the rabbit's math skills
    as his furry paw ran this calculator
    adding and subtracting opium exchanges

    Then the global toad
    a striking figure
    I was so lost … orange peelings
    the smell of oranges

    Writing the madness
    I surrounded

    he asked me
    the colors
    the sounds
    and the silences

    This is when I asked
    for ink and said
    “the glass bowl looks fun”

    Five silk worms came through the door on pillows carried by diamonds
    I was handed a root writing tool
    rain for ink
    he said “do not ever not have a pen, do you hear me?
    And that is a warning.

    to be continued...

    Shocked
    I could only listen
    new writing
    new words
    looking at the worms
    somehow the room stood still
    I couldn’t hear
    yet I was listening full
    I was growing
    I was getting up without

    Writing was told to me

    Letters from time to time
    did just that
    more like star to experience
    moon to pond expanding
    or marble to rolling
    it was all lubricated chaos
    like the lady on the floor with the syringe

    In some ways
    I believe I was forgetting myself
    leaving me behind
    I believe I stayed outside
    somehow I was absent while present, it was recoded.

    This explains the candlelit carnival
    this explains
    caged animals
    this explains
    my explanations
    my fears ready to be named
    one by one as instructed

    In the background
    a transparent pipe waiting on red silk
    a cat’s glass nap tower
    shining its treasured ship mast
    waving a rainbow box collecting

    (to be continued…)
    for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

    "Hear me, my chiefs!
    I am tired; my heart is
    sick and sad. From where
    the sun stands I will fight
    no more forever."

    Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
  • "lubricated chaos" ...

    some crazy shit man... continue
  • chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
    and back for more soon
    i have been collecting stories
    working for the orchards as a parkriderwriter

    to be continued...
    for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

    "Hear me, my chiefs!
    I am tired; my heart is
    sick and sad. From where
    the sun stands I will fight
    no more forever."

    Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
  • rollingsrollings Posts: 7,124
    Lovely
  • Awesome
    The love he receives is the love that is saved
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