Thank you for letting me reeding your poam .
by caitlin .
The map? A shape?
Surely not that of a boot, more like an obtuse triangle selt off kilter...
Both searching a world... or more, "worlds", that aspect we shall not filter...
For we know not which world it could be,
It is but a day, but the clocks read in years,
a map? what shapes are formed by the geo-graphics?
The warmth of the hearth
Is gone, my friends. Let us bask
In Selene's pale light.
4am and I sit gazing into the nothingness of the darkened sky, calm, content and still looking at the image of nothing that is everything.
This evening, it feels as if our guests have just walked out of the door, by love retired to bed, yet I sit here gazing... amidst a gently cool breeze. With mixxed feelings of both alone and comfort.
How did 2 years pass, between the ballroom and my bedroom? Where has everybody gone? Will they be back at all?
What time is it now? It was 2000 just a few minutes ago, yet my clock now says 03.
The chill icy wind
Rakes my skin, filling me with
The soft sunlight fills
My broken spirit with joy
We've been bottled in our sleep and revived free, lost somewhere in a rain forest.
Wet wet all around,
it is raining very hard here,
many plants next to me.
in the room of concussion...
the ivory room,
with table and bed,
it is where i've been,
while auras are red,
i see out the window,
Professor! No! Oh, you've gooshed the book with your flub tubbers. Hey, what's that? It looks like you've squelched the back cover apart and there's a map...
--Prancing Professor Frink
The book it tis' held in a fortress far away. Atop a black mountain where the bats doth play. And round they circle as silent sentries due. Ever watching ever gaurding lest a single soul should stir.
But tis' told that one dat this time will pass, and one of pure golden light shall peirce the heart of the dark temple to set a fire ablaze. And the towers will turn and the the bats will shriek and reel as the dark stone doth fall and crumble.
And from the ashes, as the phionex rises. so shall the temple of light and hope. Shining a beacon for all. A site of pilgramage and worship, where one will proside and weild it's mighty power for all to share an seek.
She was not real, that I can now see
but where am I, what has become of me
Have I lost the red Velvet Book
where I once did decree
where I confessed my love
to the one who could not
The book that was written
Does this mean that I'll return, never?
I put the marble down and turn to Eel, "Please, my wry Eel, shake me from my entrancement for within each marble I do peer I see her umber enchantment."
Eel lashes at the marbles and they spill into a mudden basin, a decade deeper than we dare follow. About its oval brim we must hasten.
That 'tis a question that centuries can ask, but one that ages must answer. Our memory is lost in the colored shades of glass that sparkle in the sand. Our thoughts swept away by the Daughters seeking eyes. Is our question relevent... was it ever?...Or was it no more than a curiosity, one that was no more than a flash of intrigue??
But since reverse in time or search did go
memmories erased as actions undo.
I forget why we came, and do not know
why we searched and found umong the moonlight glow.
I must ask, do you recall, do you know?
I cannot remember, can you?
why we sought Her fairness and arrived here so.
And there she stands, awash in a moonlit ivory glow. Her soft hair blowing over her face and shoulders like the gentle waves that grasp at the rocky shore. She smiles shyly. Angels breath plays upon her crimson lips and stardust sparkles from the depths of her soul searching eyes...
Into the tower of time we climb and at the top of it's mud temple look out to the cove and watch it breath as we fan eternity. Then she appears. We descend and prepare to meet Doolitle's Daughter.
How many moons and in which direction
can we travel in mud without detection.
should we walk backward or forth to make our connection
with Dolittles Daughter of fair complexion?
In the world we have found the beach and the castle of Dolittles Daughter,
The mud and the marbles and colorful water
but if time is awry and not always in order
then WHEN should we search for Dolittle's Daughter?
don't......aagghh, dunno, maybe it will bleed if you hit it.
funny thing was I remembered the bottle that day in my car.......the same as when I read the posting.
Now who's been fucking with the time continuum?
But look at all of the different colors of glass! Wher'd she get all of the colored glass? When people lose their marbles, are they brought here to build with?
You are not, till they turn it in a half-circle..
But there is a HUGE castle in front of you. It looks almost like tons of *bottles..* *shudder*
I am driving in my car, facing East. I see the reflection of the sun in my rear-vision mirror.
Does this mean I am travelling toward the sun?
Certainly and for sure
the mud is of stone
by the beach
on the shore.
It makes us as strong
as the stones were before!
Cover ourselves from head to tail
and travel unseen wearing mineral mail
said the ever agile electric Eel
I turned to the Eel, put down my fin-flaps and extended my finger to touch Eel's oily skin and found no shock for the eel did desire my company on the way to the mud. Will the mud will make us brave as we prepare to enter the Daughter's Cove.
Perhaps the lack of electrical discharge is discomforting to the electric eel.
when they were banished from her kingdom, di she consider how they feel?
electric eels make me shiver.
But how did her kingdom come to be?
was it built of the sand from the beech by the sea? Was it build with wood from the old cypress tree and the glass of broken shard when she dropped her glass of tea?
Was the gold from the sand by the sea, when she sliped or tripped and the sand by the sea chipped her ring of gold upon that beach we did see where now stands her castle of glory and glee?
Doolittles Daughter once had a velvet pouch filled of sand, her tiny grains of fortune, for one she chipped a golden ring whilst playing on the beach and could only bear a portion.
I antialight adjacent Eel - I've auralated Eel orals - Eel knows where to find good mud. The chariot legs lumber and we talk about the rule of Dolittle's daughter...
an unusually large electric eel waits to drive the chariot onward. He wears strange eye-protecting goggles made from seashells and sand-softened beach-glass. "Very bright--the marbles in the sun" He says with an oily voice. Large crusteacean legs emerge from the seaweed chariot, now that it has been releived of its airborn propulsion. The whole Chariot lurches uneasily at first then settles.....
This is the same beach! Those cliffs are gone now because an archeological team from Zurich was testing their new sand removers. They suck the sands into portable furnaces that spit out marbles. I'm standing on a full beach of marbles glinting in the sun. An orange seagull has just flown by. The chariot has been released from the seagull and has just rolled to a stop on the marbles before me. What do I see?
Beaches these days huh?
The last beach I was on had a cliff of sand behind it.
an orange seagull as large as a house flying into the sun-drawing a chariot of woven seaweed.
I'm wearing a neon green spandex hoop around my waist and I'm carrying giant webbed paddles. It is soooo sunny that I hold one up to shield the sun. There you are, what do I see?