The banks are high & overgrown
Do you want us that way w/the rest?
rich w/warm green danger
unlock the canalsDo you want us that way w/the rest?
do you adore us?
When you return will you
still want to play w/us?
Sleep is an under-ocean dipped into each night.
at morning,awake dripping,gasping,eyes
stinging.
Free now of space and time .
Free to dissolve in the streaming summer
You may enjoy life from afar . You may look at things but not taste them . You may caress the mother only with the eyes.
imagery is born of loss . Loss of the "friendly expanses"
French deck. Solitary stroker of cards. He dealt himself a hand. Turn stills of the past in unendning permutations, shuffle and begin. Sort the images again. This game reveals germs of truth , and death.
The world becomes an apparently infinite, yet possibly finite, card game. Image combinations, permutations, comprise the world game.
Metamorphose. An object is cut off from its name, habits, associations. Detached, it becomes only the thing, in and of itself. When this disintegration
into pure existence is at last achieved, the object is free to become endlessly anything.
The subject says "i see first lots of things which dance"....then everything becomes gradually connected.
Objects as they exist in time the clean eye and the camera give us.
Not falsified by" seeing".
When there are as yet no objects
-Jim Morrison
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