Worn Out Frying Pan ~ Photo by Christopher Jonassen
The creative force is strongest at the edges of the known universe. Here the rules of Cause & Effect so beloved of the old scientists have fuzzier boundaries. Those primitive technicians, believing themselves to be the pinnacle of human endeavour, sought to describe the planet by the process of observing its working parts and thereby replicating those parts within the mind of one of its constituent parts, not realising that by the very act of observation they had in fact altered the functions of those working parts and well... we all know what happened next.
While it would be unfair to blame the moon for all of the planet’s problems, ten years ago it would have been hard to imagine the malevolence with which she now consumes the planet’s artificial light.
And with darkness come the nightmares.
Light on the green as he runs down the canal edge. The canals are bereft of activity save for the Carpathian barges that loom larger than the buildings - their engines make no sound.
Run John run.
He can see the silhouette of The Great Station Hall at the apex of the road as he turns from the canal and crosses, narrowly missed by a car.
The Great Station Hall looms as he approaches and his footsteps are muffled by the morning sunlight on the pavement. The traffic hums to the birdsong from Colonel Lombard Park; a tune to which John, under his shortened breath, adds the lines:
Light always travels in a straight line
Parallel lines will meet at infinity
(a math-matical joke?)
The fourth dimension is time
Run John run.
Any minute now the train from Golgotha Sestri will return her to you; she has been away for far too long.
And dreams of utopia.
Light on the altar that channels up the hopes and tithes of the Enlightened Master’s Faithful Few. Their songs of praise offered up to the conical spire and, concentrated there at its polished steel apex, are beamed up to heaven, there to be translated into credit for the Afterlife.
Light on high and all-powerful One
Lead us down the path to infinity
Shield us from the machine possessed
Deliver us from the present time
He looks down from the altar and sees only fear in their eyes.
Light on the blue eyes of the Enlightened Master, eyes behind which fester repressed feelings of betrayal; betrayal by those whom he has already saved.
While it would be unfair to blame the moon for all of the planet’s problems, ten years ago it would have been hard to imagine the malevolence with which she now consumes the planet’s artificial light.
And with darkness come the nightmares.
Light on the green as he runs down the canal edge. The canals are bereft of activity save for the Carpathian barges that loom larger than the buildings - their engines make no sound.
Run John run.
He can see the silhouette of The Great Station Hall at the apex of the road as he turns from the canal and crosses, narrowly missed by a car.
The Great Station Hall looms as he approaches and his footsteps are muffled by the morning sunlight on the pavement. The traffic hums to the birdsong from Colonel Lombard Park; a tune to which John, under his shortened breath, adds the lines:
Light always travels in a straight line
Parallel lines will meet at infinity
(a math-matical joke?)
The fourth dimension is time
Run John run.
Any minute now the train from Golgotha Sestri will return her to you; she has been away for far too long.
And dreams of utopia.
Light on the altar that channels up the hopes and tithes of the Enlightened Master’s Faithful Few. Their songs of praise offered up to the conical spire and, concentrated there at its polished steel apex, are beamed up to heaven, there to be translated into credit for the Afterlife.
Light on high and all-powerful One
Lead us down the path to infinity
Shield us from the machine possessed
Deliver us from the present time
He looks down from the altar and sees only fear in their eyes.
Light on the blue eyes of the Enlightened Master, eyes behind which fester repressed feelings of betrayal; betrayal by those whom he has already saved.
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2 comments:
out on the edges, that's the place for the creative forces.... lovely notion.
you seem to live on an edge, if i may say....
Harlequin: Oh yeah - life on the edge: watched TWO episodes of Boardwalk Empire last night and had a slice of cheesecake - dizzy heights.
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