Those stars we reach for<\/p>\n
stay in a dark hole, infundibular store, somewhere in galactic fantasy<\/p>\n
sucked in, they die; blown up, they light our night-sky<\/p>\n
the darkness we hide is our reality, the rest is our playful imagination that crawls, walks, runs and flies<\/p>\n
set in a space digitalised by our mental keypad strokes<\/p>\n
scrolled up, down and aligned from left to right, right to left and every which way on whole<\/p>\n
a dimension for each thought, a revelation for each belief, a prayer for the unimaginable unknown<\/p>\n
in this multidimensional mirror maze, where our eyes gaze at each other from every corner and space<\/p>\n
we are left to die or live in waste<\/p>\n
if we do not create something in haste as soon as we are taught that a comatose child is the star<\/p>\n
that dropped into our lap when it is just our imagination worked up to a solid white<\/p>\n
its dark falling on the blind eye, creation sets creatures against each other<\/p>\n
you die, i live, i die, you live or we all die together and others take over<\/p>\n
In this space we create for ourselves we accomodate many who have eaten into our space<\/p>\n
and we eat them, kill them, raze them, overthrow, we create more and more emptiness in our imaginary play field<\/p>\n
filling it up with plastic, concrete and the immovable, indestructible even by us<\/p>\n
thus we lend our idea of immortality to such things who edge us out one by one<\/p>\n
killing our creativity by replacing it with routine, mundane existence<\/p>\n
that has lost its power to know only one good thing<\/p>\n
how to occupy space and darken it by blocking the sun that stood for our collective gifts<\/p>\n
our collective gift of throwing light on what we could be had we been atoms<\/p>\n
atoms that weren’t afraid to draw heat, share heat, fire-up, light-up, burn, ablaze with blitzkreig creativity<\/p>\n
and explode into billions of sub-atomic light-giving diamonds of brilliance<\/p>\n
hard to stare at, but lighting up the path to get out through the dark hole from which stars escape at night<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Those stars we reach for stay in a dark hole, infundibular store, somewhere in galactic fantasy sucked in, they die; blown up, they light our night-sky the darkness we hide is our reality, the rest is our playful imagination that crawls, walks, runs and flies…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":987,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-41073","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/41073","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/987"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=41073"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/41073\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":41237,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/41073\/revisions\/41237"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=41073"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=41073"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=41073"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}