glossolalia

glossolalia

A Story by Marc Mccune
"

at times, thoughts cannot be put into words.

"

glossolalia

in the day

I rose up, through the many layers
where everything took on multi-colored auras, the hairs on my arms and back of my neck stood on end, vibrations about my face and ears.


In repose in the unlit room
bright cartoon colors filled the darkness
there and then. The parade of life passed before me, all the types of people in my world described in an instant fluid lysergic language, so robust with words that bulged with understanding.

 



arrayed before me,
my life and that of everyone around me; a humanity machine full of individual life situations. What would have taken me pages, here described and  wrapped up in one or a few words, accompanied with the movie in my mind.


Then, coming down, the acid language that fades not quick enough to write it down, the words again unspeakable, were then forgotten.







another day


In the darkly lit smokey low ceiling room, soul shouting r and b takes me to the bridge and at that place the shimmering wave musical rush moves from my feet to my head; from which crescendo I emerge up to a new plateau.

The air shimmers, everything sparkles. The crowd fades, leaving only the drummer, bassist and me into the music sliding so easily, and it wells up, music out of my fingers and jazz scat from the mouth.





back in the day




I wonder at the creation,
unable to speak my thoughts

enthralled at the universe


Incomprehensible feelings
to which the right words cannot connect.

Words linger at the tip of my tongue
like the tops of an iceberg.
Below the surface, the mass
of feelings, of emotions,
flow
only this way connects to the sounds
I thought were tongues
of men and of angels

© 2010 Marc Mccune


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Reviews

This didn't hold my interest the way it should because the form reads blocky, and i can't catch the flow,
if you could bring the form togther in a free verse style, and eliminate some of the "my" and "I"
you could really part the waters with this intellectually spirited abstraction, although it's not bad at all.


Posted 10 Years Ago



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348 Views
1 Review
Added on December 29, 2008
Last Updated on February 14, 2010
Tags: glossolalia, Marc McCune

Author

Marc Mccune
Marc Mccune

Hickory Hills, IL



About
writer/poet, musician/music aggregator, genealogist/historian, fossil hunter/vinyl record collector, reader/collector of ideas I Changed My Mind (blog) Instagram Tumblr facebook.. more..

Writing
old town old town

A Poem by Marc Mccune


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A Poem by Marc Mccune





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