Monday 12 June 2017

I am an ocean

Come then dive into my vast ocean there are gallons and gallons of me. So glad the blog page has a nice broad page a blanket I can pour my words onto like all the The wardrobes of memories in me all the colours the bits and the pieces all the flotsam and jetsom and currents astir As i woke in my bed this morning I felt my body an octopus and the sheets the ripples and twist of the gulf stream every river and rain dropping cloud melt of my girlfriends hair so then I dreamt last night that my neighbours house had a moat of water a gathering and for a moment i was concerned lest their foundations got under mined like shoes n boots that let in the puddles of rain but i have such a resilient articulate gift for discerning what is dream and what belongs to what my parents suggested to the child of my earliness as o jimmy pay it no mind from a vast and ever growing pieces of garments and fabrics a patchwork it forms on the miles of white beach you were feeling like hiding neath a stone and I can understand that when the sun gets so bright and your colour wants to remain vibrandt and doesn't want to be so exposed to the whitening bleach the beach offers miles of potential I would use it with parasols placed all along neath one needles n thread and rolls and ripples of mighty find cloth perhaps the next will have blocks and just white lengths and upon them we print out the blocks we have put our ideas on the next has musicians a playing yet we can any time we wish have the whole beach to ourselves we can wash our naked or clothed bodies in saltiness or neath a waterfall unsalt both ourselves hosepipes of water to have fun and do squirty things jackson Pollocks of invisible ink clearing the vast beach its a canvas I makes paper in trays of water and leave frames of moist paper to dry in the sun we can add things or see the virginal pulp that later on will invite colour and ink mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm i'm not frightened I have such a restful and courteous body to rest in this had been both beach and blotting paper and all will be well in me there is a vast beach and a vast ocean a vast sky and a slow pumping heart that says all will be well now the storm is passed over and when you swim there isn't as storm just a warm fire in a cave of warm imagination rest in its harbour made for a well wrapped up body with legs arms head tum and neck n ankles there are books bonfires tenderness and as you rest gently un think I will paint all the chosen fragments of meaning I gather like making breakfast from well chosen dreams you can see me unsee me recall and reveal me I am both a well and so well for each thought is so gentle my mind bed's a good place to lay down in goodness caressed by hands that are artist hands who feel out the wonder the niggles and tingles and thrill to the joy of you so well arranged and proportioned both yourself and your author and I trust your/their instincts. One day you will swim and I then your ocean one day my ocean and me the small fish together we paddle in wonderful sand n warm oceans of hope and we waken to rest and let go no longer subject to things we just don't and cannot and yet n need not understand In the vast patchwork of cloth clothing and fabric

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