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Language

  When language was young, bright lights were rare and meaningless. Trees could not doctor a frog or patiently remove time. Night was borne but Language barely stayed. Exclamation became a grace note in long guttural longings of sonic impulse. Language only felt right. Pictures were brief moments of motion, like a rabbit but flatter. Pictures wanted certainty in a blaze. Certainty was just a rock or stick, sometimes a cloud, like heaven in your mind. How could language be anything but a slicing noise in the candid empty and only implied. What is implication but the rushing sound of grass. Language doesn’t stick out. It is landscape. A breeze, the effort of leaves, muttering doves, underground surgings, oh language began some time, ago. Now what can you say after language? A steady rock in your mind remains.
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Green

  The green earth resists patience. The green earth bets on spring. The green earth occludes in the jamming space of time. Do you have memories of planting, yourself? Effective vision of radiant impulse applies. Waiting simply concedes. The energy of process grinds in chlorophyll. All time and then some time. It takes a bit of reflection to spot the formation. The whole green of green populates a thought. A triumph, you may say, of instant, living. You have time to say sorry, you have time to restore. The greening elegantly stretches. Time becomes a bit in monstrance, no other language applies. That love is the creature itself, green as the gaining. However the practice, picnic in a grove, astonished restart, the language full of words for what. Here is the resonant and complex, daily flash green on green on applying green.

Eye

  We see the eye as an organ with general fluxing agency. It paints a world of painted worlds. In the bold compendium of thought, Emerson had an Eye in mind, transparent but ready for vast or small. It resides in the  mind’s sigh , let us say. This eye sees or seizes, and it calls you to pace. An eye can only, and often does. Look how the rain blithely spatters the ground except that it is snow and the ground a common bison. Shakespeare called the eye ‘vile jelly’, abetting the groan of sadness in drama and changing. The eye proves possible tho cultish in application. Anyone can have tears, seen in the moment. To what witness do you listen? It could be time to forgive. Soften your grip, meaning now. Trees swayed in the wind today, but tomorrow may be dark. That field, that place, that time. You surely see what I mean.

Meteorite (Entering The Chasm)

  Rock in motion evanescent. The vaporous field day moment, listen. Apt briefness. Tucked in transit light. Seeing the skirting. Immediate almost response to vision. Opulent effective brand meeting. Hot taken. Definite clash with almost. Near by interest. Slurry of sentence. Proud to be profoundly plainly infinite in the sentence, current. See as seem, seem as ever. Some of these statements may redound for you. This cannot be explained.

Stone

  Stone abbreviates everything with insular condition. Stone as in rock, the hard moment clustering. Integrity changes time in a political way, you are rapt. Rock presence until rock not only not never but continent dilated as watered rock. Lived as living stone forms as strong form, in a moment of make. Earth’s stern vindication of place toys with gravity. Ironclad resolution of place identifies as molecular portion. Let your mind kick rocks. Explode wide. It’s a beautiful world.

Dell

  In consideration of where you are, a low place embowered by trees: probably a  dell . Also possible dale or vale, at least in English plenitude. Look around you, check the underbelly. Language stands between us, sometimes defensive, sometimes still. For shizzle your nizzle, that steeper slope indicates dingle in some way. Note the map in between. Trusty language in a blessing of patent. You are here means somewhere, worthy of definition and defiance. Trees and rocks, the fitful earth relaxes. A poet writes every flake of poem in perhaps words or other engines. The poet as prim vortex concedes to words and their like. Meaning mixes with utter impulses and conditions. You are drawn in, implacably, like the best calm report. And what do you know?

Sand

  YOU are the force of sand. Ground to implication and scatter, yet effectively centered. You can boast the briskness of being there, which is here, the element. The polis of integrity, the politics of iota combine like irritation. You are voice as a single word, a document, a sentiment. You can be the ocean itself, waiting in terms and process. So buck up, you are clear, unclaimed, and constant. You smack the beachheads and warzones, and even bear a name thru crossfire winds. The sentence cannot exist without you.