spirit world

i feel like i’m kind of an interpreter from a 

spirit world

spirit world where i’m kind of an observer kind

of part of it

sort of goin down into the convoluted tunnels of 

a cave seein cave paintings on the walls

paintings are like spirits livin in history

of now but time’s not real

they’re just the same undulatin now as they were

in 1200 just keep undulatin lovingly

n when i’m goin down the mine the music is

theseus ball of string keepin me lifeline

but it’s not a lifeline to our world?

music poetry all that with a beat

it’s here IN BETWEEN like me

not here or there n that’s okay

i like this song i like this song

house of the risin sun 

i like bob dylan his music is warm

slow vibrations

i need slow vibrations orange colors right now to stay warm

warm n cold not real but it feels pink 

to be warm or feel the warm sit next to me

house of the risin sun like cave paintin’s time

like anthony said journey through time but

same vibrations

1300  1700  1900  2021

music is like string

i’m an interpreter but i forgot whether my 

jaw goes up and down or left to right

were my eyes closed? there are layers

because you got different worlds

open eye messy world

closed eye smooth with the music

but i can open my eyes while they’re closed

i’m curled into rock  eyes closed

sit up peel off one layer open eyes

figuratively

to ally they’re still closed

but to me it’s open n i can feel the warmth

of the music breathe with me

like curtains openin to thinnner curtains

yellow

light passes through

like light yellow flower petals

pullin the sun close and warm

THEN i can open my physical eyes (is it physical?)

and see the chaotic world with all the 

messy tangled details

looks like a picture of the busy world at first but

if i pick a spot to focus on — i’ll pick that big rock

things start to get real color and simplify 

and it goes more toward physical eye closed

spiritual eye open

until physical eye open closed not too far apart

big rock rockin gently undulatin

kinda like a handful of worms but out of

the worms are comin foldin, secretin

gargoyle faces

from moss patches moustached

monsters stately

and like dancin spirits

just the faces swiiiimin

n i can’t tell if they’re warm or cold they’re

sort of neutral

neutral lavendar blue gargoyle faces with big lips n teeth

dancin breathin in a cacophony

and they’re scary

i could see how this could start to go sour

if they start comin toward me

but if i don’t both then they’ll leave me be

i try to be a respectful part of the world

feel so connected interpreter

like an air nomad from avatar

breathin with it — but not physically

i gotta remember to send physical

breath back to my body

as i fold into become part of the rock become

part of the undulatin world

tuckin my physical knees in

foldin my spirit into the rock

until i’m an extension of it, flowin with it

n i can make carbon copies of myself

i can freeze a copy of myself where i was a second ago

and move the new copy leave it make

more n more n more until

I’M a cacophony too

i think i closed the physical eyes i don’t remember

‘is it all too much’ — it is, it is

in the worlds i feel like you can never press

pause everythin just keeps flowin

and time isn’t real but the cacophony is

music playin is the closest you get to pressin pause

it’s the UNITY of the beat that helps you cause

it’s not part of any of these worlds

it’s floatin in between like me

behind physical lids has a backscape of black

n i see yellow trumpets on blue-black 

glowin like my fingers on paper

and the trumpets pulse to the beat of the music

with little azure pulses like electric shocks

and the color pulses color everything

warm pink orange everythin

it comes in waves

gettin colder colder now — separate from self but the COLOR is a tangled blue 

like sky bugs

separate from self but uncomfortable

fuck FUCK no nick drake has 

fast vibrations

so fast right into the death

he turns the world blue and grey

vibrations so fast i feel tangled blue

i feel uncomfortable

gotta open my eyes to the cacophony again

but there’s no groundin without good music

things behind the sun are frightenin

i look at it but not for too long

i think? ally says

i can’t find time

i’ll pick a different rock

geometric wolf faces bubble out like

a hot sticky pot of caramel

picture to color

but still busier than blank late world

music pulse world

wolf faces until there’s no more blotches of moss

just faces

it’s in wwwwave

losin track of physical eyes open n closed

it’s just gargoyles wolves trumpets pulses

i can feel the beat frequency of the music

i can see it in turquoise pulses

i feel like a wwwwave

all the eyes physical n spiritual openin

n closes as i fold into the rock then

unfold n open my eyes

like a butterfly

ally says it’s been hours

she dropped her sound in between the rocks

i can see the turquoise n blue 

pulses slippin between the faces

n laughin in the cracks

she dropped soundedddd but i can still see it

can i assign YOU a color an aura you seem 

to me purple

kind of royal warm rock n full of sounds but

i don’t think  no you can’t assign just one 

color i can hear the full visible

spectrum n some not visible around you head

like the halo of a saint in st demetrios

back into closed eye cacophony

huddled into myself the rock now it’s more

krebb’s cycle of sound all reds oranges

maggot brain is this an arpeggio

of orange

firefox soundscape of breathin music

open my eyes — lion faces — so warm, less color

i know i’m startin to come back

the lions escort ambassadors back beween 

they’re so beautiful but less color

they don’t quite live in between like me

they’re still spirits

but they like me better than gargoyles

and they start singin chimacum rain

and suddenly i know how cold i am

it’s still separate from body me but i know

i’ll have to start worryin about body me soon

i try closin my eyes to get back

n there’s still color but the slate’s turnin white

n i don’t know the timeline but it’s just changin

n suddenly outside of myself i feel the idea 

of exhaustion

n so so cold

that body me starts shiverin

n fallin into her embrace

which feels like sh’s welcomin me back from

an epic odyssey a journey

and i guess it is a journey to the spirit world

so cold i remember what warm cars n bed feel like

but i feel good too? like a seer, spirit prophet

welcomed home after a pilgrimage

but i mean it’s not over

i still see wolf faces everywhere

and (cold) folded over her knees watchin 

the purple orange pink sunset

like her aura n like

the into the mystic color

helpin me ride down

n i see more than before

busy n smooth surfaces

n music rides the smooth surfaces

like a slow train

into the mystic into the sunset — smooth sky

cold! n now it’s back in my body (just not my

hands. still in the spirit world, still writin

these words in the place IN BETWEEN)

n i can’t remember how to move my jaw 

right to left or up n down?

n she needs to teach me how to stand

how to not fall off the rock

rock i was a part of for — hours?

she says it’s been hours but i don’t know what 

it feels like  not minutes or days either

n it’s dark

n the music stops

n i’ve stopped seein faces

n i’ve trampled on the cobwebs

but in the sky

n in orion

i can still hear the colors of the music