Nature of a Falling Sun, Pt. 2

I was leanin’ on the house today and saw some folks starin’ at the sun

I was thinkin’ to myself ‘Well shit, you can’t see nothin’ with the sun in yer eyes like that’

Anyways, they started scramblin’ and screamin’ that the sun was gettin’ bigger

They was yellin’ the sun was goin’ to hit the Earth soon, you know, shit like that

I looked up yonder and sure ‘nough that sun was gettin’ bigger and we was gonna die

Them folks was carryin’ on about WHY and WHEN and how big the sun was

I thought to myself ‘Well hell, why are you worryin’ about them insignificancies?’

I mean it don’t matter ‘bout why that sun is fallin’ or when it’ll fall out the sky

I just know myself that the sun’s fallin’, it might as well be now, and we’re gonna die

That there’s just the nature of a fallin’ sun and that’s how it’s gonna be

Them folks need to quit their cryin’ and yappin’ and quit givin’ a damn about that sun

I keep thinkin’ ‘bout what my neighbor John Ezekial Rice said when we was talkin’ about it yet

‘We all’re gonna die and I’d say in these last units o’ time we all do what the fuck we were here to do all along and love and care and forgive and forget and remember and chuckle and pray and share that community we all done forgot all them years ago; goddamn them self-indulgent folks and goddamn that fallin’ sun.’

Nature of a Falling Sun, Pt. I

In a dark room, in the biggest room of all

My house is slowly coming to an end

Ideas are empty in a room with so much darkness to fill, so much space to fill

I can’t begin to think how big this room is...

Only how everything is smaller than this room

The space is so empty, like the cosmos is a vacuum

My self wants to fill the space and I stretch to try

But cry in pain and scream WHY is this room so big?

WHY is this room so dark?

And the most pertinent question is WHY is the chandelier not hanging?

Well, that is the nature of a falling sun...

Keen to fill the space in the biggest room of all

Keen to fill the darkness with the brightest light of all

But this room is just so big and the energy is stretched thin

Stretched thin like I am, trying to fill the biggest room of all

Of course we cannot and WHY?

Nothing is bigger than this room (it’s the biggest room of all)

Instead of asking WHY, though, I ask WHEN

So it goes, WHEN is this room so big? WHEN is this room so dark?

And the most pertinent question is WHEN is the chandelier not hanging?

Well, that is the nature of a rising moon...

Keen to empty the space in the biggest room of all

Keen to empty the darkness with the dimmest light of all

But this room is just so big and the efforts stretched thin

Stretched thin like I am, trying to empty the biggest room of all

Of course we cannot and WHY?

Nothing is bigger than this room

It’s the biggest room of all!

The Monochrome Orchestra

The barrier has been broken

Old growth that was past felled and has given life to new

The barrier has been broken

Burning leaves are blistering the branches

The barrier has been broken

Even the slightest breeze has been born anew as a firestorm

The barrier has been broken

Black and battered woods, carbon blends with the carbon below

White ash and black carbon

Shaded neutral by the gray pall of the smoked and smoldering air

A monochrome orchestra fills the outdoor hall with explosive silence

And the audience is blown away

A paper floats carefully by

And according to the level of my eye

The path of flight is just below my horizon- and why?

White ash and black carbon

Shaded neutral by the gray pall of the smoked and smoldering air

The article flies, yet hides, and was hiding until now

Finally, my finale has itself shown

Even the slightest breeze has been born anew as a firestorm

I went out to see the Monochrome Orchestra on a windy Friday

An open mind made to let in the fireplace again

With a fire whipped and stormy in its own weather

A newspaper in hand (I loved the music so much)

The monochrome orchestra plays again

And the music is like words on a printed page

“Charred Forest Gives Relief to Local Town”

Continuity

The room is quiet and it outperforms the sound of my movements

A quick glance out of the window

Has daylight arrived?

So a tree fell in the forest today

And I heard it

So I stood on the shoulders of giants to find the source

And I found it underneath the dull orange of a reflective cloud cover

A glassy, silvery pond bordering the roots

This building is empty so I attempt to fill it with sound

It’s a full sound but it only fills so much

And I expect with a building so empty

That someone could hear it and join me

But everyone has no ears... or I can’t play loudly enough

It’s so wonderful to see you

I love you, yes I do, just listen

And hear he comes of course to crack the atmosphere

Oh yes, jump in his arms! Celebrate his arrival!

He crashes his plate to the floor with obnoxious intent

So everyone applauds his actions when I am allowed only mindless conversation?

A daily occurrence

Almost as if daily within a daily occurrence

A short to long list creating an ephemeral turbulence

Rattling around in my head, lit by square light

I can’t keep opening the envelope, it changes nothing

Only changing seconds to minutes and making me suppress

Suppress, suppress

I’m depressed

When will she open my envelope?

I’m waiting, and I continue to continue waiting

Continuity is said to be grand in art but it isn’t here

If she could make it that would be nice

But an early warning would suffice

Ideally, though, a long drive would end with a longer time

With her as she is and myself as I would be if I could be who I needed to be

Anyway, right, Locke’s blank slate

We would be free for Night’s taking

Suddenly, a knock on the door to my right

A door that opens to a past hallway

A past hallway. Right.

Like the hallway ever left the present or future

A quick glance into the curving lens of my false sense of privacy

She passed through the lens, like light

And danced on my eyes until the image was burned into my reality

A virtual image of the real one in my mind’s eye

Soon a playful hello and a smile to warm a hardened core; I’m taken

And it’s a pathetic combination of excitement and dreading

That sends my mind reeling and soon threading

A world in which we are possible and failure is a failed concept

Four days equal four months and theres a steady breeze to blow her hair

The air is warm so her skin, her legs and shoulders are never concealed

The sun is setting and the breeze ripples her shirt, a little skin revealed

The world is focusing, buffering, and is soon interrupted

My friends have arrived and it’s high time to head inside