Skip to main content

Activate A Rapport With

 Beginning, Flakes of hurt heat in a one place. This becomes where the word of beginning starts to begin. Shade of light. Annals sit among words and beginning. People the listeners or understand the power of saying so. Those extraordinary the Beings In The Beginning After The Clouds And More Or Less All. Fog borne affection of the gods, clouds certainly from. The clouds were present but they passed. In one word they said one word and all of it. The world was possible by degree, even unto the smallest, even unto the largest. This was when doing beginning, the Deities. There trees and rocks to speak of. Energy and claims, from night to almost night. Rising in upwards becomes water and the matter of wet. Its voice and that purpose. The emergent word of that saying, voiced as time by time. A regular seeming of almost plenitude full of that one word. Or another, who to say. More beginning to fix the last starting of beginning just the right word. And so anyway, After The More Of Clouds a light grew a light of afterward, much like now but before. This was the moment of that moment, or just a little after. In that exact space, in that exact time. The largest beginning ever before or after, in so many words or just one big elite interjection. And from that, there known as there, where here becomes now and now then. Amen, forward and behind.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Words

  From the thing itself, beyond seasoned aptness. Life is like living but blurred by you were listening. Aspect ratio telemetry in myriad languages smooth as rocks approaches time to look. Words piece together things or things find words. Endlessness is a choice, written big in words as shiny as geese. Words simply take the time in radiation and radical point. Stein wrote the heft of nothing special, start there or whatever. You can slowly adjust the franchise, commodity's inner workings. Subglacial quips, subliminal washouts, frantic azure in the breeze of frosty Friday: these special sparking hallways slyly enjoin. Maybe you read too much into reading too much. Further on is where you’ll stay.

Adam Sandler Has Totally Lost It. Okay?

The greatest popular person in the world died today. Repeat: this person was young, with exceptionally pleasant features forced of radial tires. Each star in the empyrean sighed for lack of this locus of popularity. Humdrum took on new meaning, but meaning did not. Meaning is a wave of popularity toward the sigh of exceptional stars. These stars are good-looking reminders of all that is possible, tho distant from any address. Tears flowed to the heart of the Milky Way, because the popular person stood tall and well-dressed, like sentimental eagles drinking Bud Light while evoking timeless mythic pediments. The greatest of popular signs grew milky with waves of stars over easy oceans of just plain folk stalking the best. We remain ardent, tho the popular person can no longer contribute. We have to look in magazines again, for the source and severing. Levers used for leverage feel average. Again the popular trout, the popular doorknob, the popular brand of sweetened, flavoured, f...

Today's Widespread Panic Concert, Sans Banjo

The banjo is dead. Those included in banjo are dead. Inclusion is dead. Death is dead banjo dead. Its banjo is dead. The name of its death is dead. Name is dead. Its political act is dead. It sound like banjo but dead. It no time to be banjo. You must remain a rope with language and dulcimer. Only dulcimer live. All banjo dead. You are banjo, Donald Trump. Hurry up Donald dead,  untimely to dead still dead like words. You and banjo both. You is dead and you too.