Causality

                     Sharp metaphysical rays are piercing through my mid-afternoon buzz.

                  This neighborhood hound from hell (maybe Baltimore, I can’t really be sure) is loud and ignorant in his K-9 scriptures. In my fog I keep pacing against his noise with thoughts rolling off my hands, wondering if there is some reason to this blundering petulance.

                Innocence is not a word that comes easy to me.  

Maybe he is after the ducks; you know, the ones that show up strangely in the afternoon, soaking up the city sun. Bobbing their lots up and down. Occasionally dipping their heads below the shallow edges of some sudden pond.      

Just like me.

          I watch them as they turn their backs against his constant slander. Gliding like monks, deep into “duck philosophies”. They offer no refute. They take no issues created by his obvious qualm. 

         They aren’t blowing up malls. They aren’t kidnapping little girls in their sleep. They aren’t even mumbling fortune five hundreds like thieves…

             I don’t know, maybe duck tomorrows aren’t built like ours.

Maybe he is pissed just to get out. Jazz waits for no one. Besides what do I know? Other than this duck-dog hell cuts hard when I listen to it.

It seems like just another taxable incantation to me.  Nothing more.

Plus ”She” sleeps unaware. This rapacious pug city…

It’s as if anger has crawled from her lips and I, like

some wild child, am being forced to suck up into this milk. 

        

     Eventually,  I shut the window and remember that there are no Magi here, only dogma...and it is swimming into my Holy view.

Reviews

[Priscilla Sayers]

Wise words
And only to shut a window after realizing
What is, is... What will be, will...
Our journey is our own
We were never meant to control another
Even a guide only may offer a way but the student chooses to follow
We can not understand all
For we are not all knowing.
So we continue either in frustration trying desperately to understand
Or understanding that we may never truly decipher another's tongue
Continuing instead to do & understand what we can and carry on.
Namaste
My Hawk
~ Canvas

[Kristallo]

The master of opening lines strikes again at the pierce of my soul. "Thoughts rolling of my hands" is so great that I find myself inept at describing just WHY I am so fevered to dissect it. These words are paper gold, they cut into the alchemy of mind like the swords of fine literature, massing deep within the confines of lucid dreaming. This reads like a dream of ducks and chaos and bitter memories strung together like japanese lanterns to light the way among your 'road to perdition.' ;)

"It seems like just another taxable incantation to me. Nothing more. Plus, she sleeps unaware in this rapacious pug city..." Cunning insights. The last line is also electric, and dogma is a term I don't think i've seen you use before in your pagan raptures. Interesting observations, dear. Suffice to say, I wildly adore the prose.

[DCT ponderings]

I have read this now three times slowly......then slower with each repeat. What is it I am haunted by behind the words? I can't touch it but love this...
It seems like just another taxable incantation to me. Nothing more.
Plus ”She” sleeps unaware. This rapacious pug city…
It’s as if anger has crawled from her lips and I, like
some wild child, am being forced to suck up into this milk.

Brilliant. Great Read