The Happy Hobo.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Take me, galaxy.



You're at the edge of your heavens. Everything was just so perfect. Everything was so rowdy yet so serene. Everything just felt so right. Everything conspired to the littlest curb as it hit the huge rock where I stood.  The waves go splashing, but those were happy splatters. It gets me. Stoked and just free. It was so much alive, so much spirit in it, so much lust. Not for the seeds, but for the world. It was joyous, the type that they go berserk. It was so vast I see scores of possibilities. Possibilities that are tied in my fingers. Yes, now.  Still possibilities. And then you get that feeling where that roller coaster finally reaches the peak where it's about to drop. You hit your imaginary brakes but you can do nothing. It will fall because it is its nature to fall. It falls and speeds up. And you scream and scream because of the billion sensations rambling your insides. 

Then, it was, just, was. The is braked and reeked and kept its power where no one hears its howls. Hate blossoms in the splatters. Ah, much loathe. It's almost lifeless. She was locked in the corner. Back to the edge. Too much mess, too much quietness it is very much deafening. It is half-hearted. It wants to go. Anywhere. Everywhere. Just far, far away. The return of Saturn. You are so hasty. Let me run after you. Just let me. Let it go. Ride along with the spin. Find its axis. And go, not back, no. But just go.

Search for the beans, I shall. And on another sheet, the seed too. Too much waiting and solving equations in the air is very much mundane. I know I failed you. Yes, you. My apologies my dearest. We can go for another ride again, if you're still on it. Because I still am. Always been. 

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