Such words should never be spoken, never be written, never be thought. But they are thought, they are written, and they will be spoken. Who could deny them? Unlike a banister floating in midair with no steps beneath; unlike an obtuse idea given life in a torrential downpour; unlike even the barest of flesh beneath a table during a feast of the divine; when could the beating of the inner drum become so loud that it pounds in the ear of another? When would its brazenness flood the intentions of purity and drive out its desire?
Too soon it ends. Never captured. Always fleeting. Serious results drift into capricious methods. Whomsoever allows is wanton. Flower petals close upon ripe fruit, gratefully. It's only a matter of time before the turn-around.
Again the thoughts come unbidden, flying through the sky like cancerous brains. Once the stylist becomes desirable, once the style recedes into the distance like a wailing banshee, only then will the powerful aroma be released into the wild. Rhythmic shudders wrack an otherwise peaceful coexistence. Sharp like a tack the water hits the solar plexus.
Loud screams pierce the silence, like a hamburger left too long on the grill. Simple formulas fall out of favor; complex insistence becomes the norm.
Robbing a bank or gas station is a bad idea. Some people do it anyway. It's like, the bad idea comes into their brain and they can only invest in creating a reality for it. Why? The same reason for any reality creation? One way seems more pure, the other less. Field greens growing in cement. Oil slicks in a nightmare of preponderance.
At least the tactile feeling of depressed buttons flowing under fingers of titanic elements keep the impression of electronic quiescence. Thankfully, the automatic spelling dictionary keeps honest words from going wrong. Cartoon figures mean stretching forward. Air, make that wind, instruments, like tornados in tubes.
Truly, the red flag has been waved. Perhaps not in defeat, but definitely in warning. Children play in their dreams. Weather patterns compress heat waves and spread ionic fields. Golden waves of grain grow out of the ground, and provide gastronomic situations in the guts of giants.
Nicely done, the courtesy of royalty can never be matched by mere peons. But the world is full of mysteries. One can never know for sure what unearthed gem might explode into public consciousness and get placed on a pedestal in the Smithsonian.
Interesting how the unlikely combination of words can pull heart strings out of acorns. It must come from squirreling away so many ideas. This weekend will speed by like a motorbike with low clearance. An incongruent idea can sneak past the censor. It's rather frightening how easy it is to fool the custom agent. He means to check all bags; it would be best. But there are so many. He must pick and choose which to censor. It disappoints to repeat the same word.
The queen of hearts lounges gracefully on her tuffet, ignoring for the moment the fact that spiders could be everywhere. She's able to focus her attention to keep from going into an anxiety filled rage. Lucky for all concerned. If she applied even one adjective to a noun; even one adverb to an action; all could be inherently confused from the imprecise beginning.
With this device, the eyes can search for a third, the digits can search and find without much trouble. The memory can digest the gestures. The song can play itself with little input from the composer. Lastly, the performer can take the raw material and mold it into a workable piece of art.
It can become too big. Blotting out the sky, trumpets blaring but muted. A grey cloud with yellow and white lightning. Surprising grumbles from the belly of a floating cumulonimbus puffer. Flights of fancy fear for a forethought, but the airship arises. Into white space.
Like this.
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