::mind language moves mountains::
this is an expanding thoughtstream

fragments of self crystallize, melt, and flow back
magnetizing everything

(the shiny void of yr kiss)

and later,
bathing in the light
the ripples collapsing sway
providing liquid resonance for
thought to transform into
mind language, just
between all of us

more for the evr expanding lightdream
psalms and songs might collect
like liquid pools or quicksilver//

when was it that i made the decision
to come back forever to this eternal moment
consciousness streams and
seperating from this physical form::lightly
like feathers drifting, up into the spheres
which, containing all thought, all potential
movement, falls into place so easily

the soft click of synapse connection
and spark

winding thread

flying in the shiny weather
human gods are so beautiful
but human pride is sometimes
the final obstacle

i love it when my friends crush
my ego

how many lifetimes have we
spent, spiralling around eachother...
always just missing that moment,
that glance that would have caught
me like a deer in the headlights
now instead i'm writing poetry
just to tear it up like snowflakes
falling softly in the night.

laughing softly into light

life has always been absurd
before the holocaust, before
the atom bomb, there was
always this impermanence.
when has it been any
different.
.....
lunar wizard
wize lizard
timeless smiling faces
and falling leaves between
the lines of finely woven
fabric and cool sun
illuminating
what?

the slow dance
of the universe
all it wants
is for you to
pay attention

time to cut out the plural
there's only one eternal moment
look! watch it change
like smoke trails
in the light

atomic green
roadmap to the soul
all wrapped in fabric
wire and electricity
twisting folds of
twice raised
curvature
four times the
speed of sound
16 bars n yr smoke
why not raise it up
why not lay low
why would we ever
stop

THE NEW ISLAND - by Stanley Gemmell


Every time there is a circle
of wind

Every time there are eyes

Every time there is rhythm
of wind

Each person is an island
Each person is new

The face, concerned, flesh-stone
or clay

Sadly depending on itself and hopeful
towards fellow man

Literally scanning
Life for life

The air organized into winds
Flowed to itself outside

Time is stranded into wind-strings
The muscle and flesh of our invisible mother

The mother is a legitimate whole-thing
Loves to smoothest, human skin

All our crouching eyes
Every time we draw breath
exhale

This human language of sky
Colors and shades and shapes

Concerned fears and nauseous death
Breaks into newborn cry

There is safety in wind
Words will while

When lovers touch as leaves
Upon branches edging towards sun

There is a span of remaining
Impulse.direction,

Station.

_____
STANLEY GEMMELL
October 19, 2005
Florida, USA