feedback jeder art The transformation

[partewigand]

Come, sit down.

I might forget how to write and start talking instead.

Abracadabra, have you got time?

There have been some changes around my existence

The scenery has burned to ashes.

 Figures suffered injuries.

And wishes no longer count for eyelashes.

A bird as my reflection, I fly  on the wings of emotion,

Get lost in the notion.

It feels romantic, not the least.

Fatal temptation, like a bird flying over the ocean.

Vertical falling raindrips hit my bare feet.

The patterns had been laid, of course, but I didn't walk them.

I stood and listened to the free fall of the raindrops and their weight.

Light and heavenly, in the middle is the sky.

It is my eye reflecting its image and the sky reflecting the weight of it all.

I wonder if these mirrors are true,

Will I go and look, will you come too?

Falling in slow motion, surfing in the air and floating on top of the rain.

Water makes its way through the gutter.

Illusions helped me build a shutter.  

Getting used to life does not feel fair.

Everything seems a lot to bear.

Growing up often brought a certain desperation.

An older me blew its hopeful breath into the air.

Tomorrow lies in a dreamy maze.

Ray of hope is sweetest gaze.

As today looks back at you, you look into the ether.

The desire fires loudly, pure "together".

What is together?

So I share some of my freedom to give it to peace.

A little privacy, intimacy, sensitivity can diminish.

So I thrust both my  hands and arms into the torso of this trunk and wait.

Slowly growing from the inside out as the roots expand around me and I slowly shrink.

Finger by finger, they fold themselves into the flipside.

Small biofluorescent mushrooms grow throughout the mouth.

A blooming, self-consuming film grows slowly and glows.

At night we drip, dance and groove.

Moaning wilderness flows down my ear canal.

Tiny cracks sparkle, rank growth slings itself around the trunk, wind slides across the leaves, making noises above the trees.

There are lights in the distance, but darkness remains on my lichen-covered flesh.

My expanding torso breathes in the trunk.

Warm air blows and vibrations are released.

As they pass by my interwinings, few will pause and look.

The images become sensations.

During this fusion I no longer see with my face.

The structures are strong, they form a cave.

I am slowly disappearing, dissolving, we are brave, it only seems like a grave.

Working  together is an attempt to understand.

Learning as I try to cultivate a new land.

Come, sit down...

 

 

 

[Joshua Coan]

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