Imagine this:
shoes backpack soldier with trumpet long wall with man and shadow head in leaves trumpet soldier thoughtful girl bride and groom dance wavy man saves drowning child traveling light runner on road art in progress mobile pix silly girls silly people man with tent man on porch tent on porch? man in suit pleasant lady man with smoke implements peeping pop child's play with dad, neighbor drop-in embarrassment true princess king of pink old-school type, times three, cafe makes four foundations of childhood dancing with child happy kid happy child yellow beret man with world in mind film crew exuberant leap mule wagon at sunrise or donkey cart at sunset bride gets ready clown guy tie tie dancer print job old style type hands tied block print coffee roastin' music sawman of seattle bride y groom goodbye girl
That's a lot of free-style poetic imagery for your Friday-evening imagination to comprehend. Maybe this would be easier, and it only takes a minute fifty-seven: http://vimeo.com/54586218
Glass half-Full
Showing posts with label imagine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label imagine. Show all posts
Friday, November 30, 2012
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Brave New Whirl
The descent of man:
it does spiral down through history and time
to some questionable fate, beyond freedom
and dignity;
it just takes our breath away.
Passing through Huxley's brave new world,
a controlled world that is-- made stable by
bio-engineered castes, who've been rendered "blissfully
ignorant
of passion and old age" by test-tubed wonderkinds,
with social pharmakia and so forth and so on--
well, here came a working class hero
into this spiraling business of mankind.
He wandered in--
another Brit he was, and another genius, at that--
into the vortex of supine wizardry
that is the art and sciences, and of course the music,
hawking tickets to soma magical mystery tour;
he would pied-piper us through strawberry fields,
over men and barrels and hoops and horses
and lastly through some hogshead of real fire,
and onward
through the brave new whirl.
"Imagine" said he,
"there's no countries…nothing
to kill or die for,
no religion too."
Well whoopdy do.
In your dreams.
All the while, the fool on the hill
had nails in his hands.
But that was no dream;
yeah, I say unto thee, it became the resurrected
brave new pearl
of great price. Oh! what a price!
Now that's the descent of Man,
and the Ascent too.
What's it to you?
CR, with new novel, Smoke, in progress
it does spiral down through history and time
to some questionable fate, beyond freedom
and dignity;
it just takes our breath away.
Passing through Huxley's brave new world,
a controlled world that is-- made stable by
bio-engineered castes, who've been rendered "blissfully
ignorant
of passion and old age" by test-tubed wonderkinds,
with social pharmakia and so forth and so on--
well, here came a working class hero
into this spiraling business of mankind.
He wandered in--
another Brit he was, and another genius, at that--
into the vortex of supine wizardry
that is the art and sciences, and of course the music,
hawking tickets to soma magical mystery tour;
he would pied-piper us through strawberry fields,
over men and barrels and hoops and horses
and lastly through some hogshead of real fire,
and onward
through the brave new whirl.
"Imagine" said he,
"there's no countries…nothing
to kill or die for,
no religion too."
Well whoopdy do.
In your dreams.
All the while, the fool on the hill
had nails in his hands.
But that was no dream;
yeah, I say unto thee, it became the resurrected
brave new pearl
of great price. Oh! what a price!
Now that's the descent of Man,
and the Ascent too.
What's it to you?
CR, with new novel, Smoke, in progress
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