pebbly-dreams-020107.mp3
a remix of some other’s piece… new content all, no use of their words, but inspired by them, this… both rejoinder, reply, rebuttal, and rebuke.
there was a wobble on the tides
some pebble thinking itself mountain
its quaint ripples, tsunamis
its roundness, pebbly perfection
plumbing the depths,
striking
a starfish, a coral reef, a kelp bladder
bubbles releasing, like ether
rushing to the surface
rushing to the light
as pebble plummeted
most beautiful thing ever seen
through wavy, rippling depths
the sun, corona around it
like a carbon copy pupil
surrounded by azure, by cobalt, by sapphire
it is said it found another
its pebbly perfection bouncing
resting in the silty, sandy bottoms
by what might have been its twin
giggling, giddy geodes
nestled close and whispering
of secrets everyone knew
of dreams shared by all
their sparkling centers strobing
sharing in suchness, in sameness
would one ever think it possible
to disturb being?
a greater effort than Sisyphus
ever undertook
to set nose
and in vanity believe
to move a pebble uphill?
but
perfect pebbles possibly
pretend,
possibly presume,
proceed…
prefer purported power
waves rise from sound as well as movement
loud and constant barrage
pebble rocking in its grainy nestled safety
sending streams of self to surface
insisting, persisting itself Himalayan
lofty and with brow of cirrus
halos of light formed by ice crystals
settling within, geode fading
light shifting to form
strident denials much too loud
to hear pleas
propelled by “knowledge”
looking upon the pebble plains
with cynical mind, stony proclamation:
‘look how that pebble stalks me!
look how it sits near me!
surely its presence is the most
ill and evil intent!’
foolishness of a pebble
upon the ocean floor
complaining of proximity
do grains of sand
upon the beach
piss proximity warning
do raindrops swaddled
in the cloud
complain for lack of room
shall an atom
bray angry rejection
of another
and shall a pebble
be then a mountain
for such pontification?
do pebbles weep?
do they drown themselves
in perfect pebbly precipitation?
does liquid despair sweat through pores
of stone as they do skin?
atlas shrugs
the weight of a pebble
upon his back
in the deeps,
the silty, sandy floor shifts
palpitating pebble
paranoid prattling psychosis
proclaiming persecuted prey
all covered in water and strangled
weeping for fears unfounded
weeping for fears preferred
weeping for nothing
atlas carries a pebble
upon his back
some call it the world
atlas smiles and remains silent
for pebbles do not speak
and in the azure, cobalt, sapphire silence
where once the pebbles nestled, curled, rested
like peas in a pod
into the empty, hollowed space
where the pebble who would be a mountain
used to simply be
space…. into which purely pebble proximity
softly pulses, ‘the world is yours… i give it away.’