Windowframe

 by  Shaun  Lawton  

You can live as long as you want to, but we can't provide a drug which induces the willpower to sustain this desire. We are all just thumbprints with faces. Have a nice suspension of disbelief. 

sub-Orbital

 by shaun lawton

  Embedded in the manifold a pre-curricular manifestation caught in a flash-frozen moment of plasmic enhancement suggesting a marine biological specimen when in reality a suborbital docking station positioned in orbit skimming the exosphere and picking up reverberations had been captured on the radar leaving an impression forming what appears to be a small maneuverable interdimensional craft or a passing creature's shadow imprint left rippled in the fabric of reality while the balancing of the passage reaches its inadvertent state of equilibrium the incoming message will be resolved.

Swimenumerating

    by  Shaun Lawton 

All the chances that you have of our survival before the tidal forces drag upon stronger undercurrents and the shallow coves of sand get traded in for a licking tongue from the deepest briny depths to taste a rivulet of the threshing shoreline in the wink of a moment sometimes a child is carried along for the ride in case you hadn't heard of the riptides around here, why they'll sneak up on you like a real creeper wave and before you know it you're through swallowed up by the sea another tossed aside colony for the reaper eels and rays and wrasse to wrestle for the left over bits while there was still time before Leviathan arrived. 

    Nothing ever worked out fine when Leviathan arrives it's more of a parting of the waves before the big blue sea when all the life forms have dried out long before hand to provide a parchment rug unfurled like a flag tongue to trample on and get sampled by the burned out taste buds of an indiscriminate glutton for punishment and pain the likes zygotes won't transfer like lightning bolts through gametes for a very long time of revolution to come because believe it or not these swift calculations incur enough of a low amperage energy wave to engage and thus slow the timewave directory down as it's multilenticular anemone-wind absorbed time amassed force enough to create a sudden stun-block of standstill time, a sort of shocked echo bubble created for a sufficiently delayed moment to induce eternal retro-forgetfulness, itself the tip of the artistic borough now entered, a realm where the expanding universal constant helps keep the sails of your dream ship filled with astral power for as long as you wanted to keep it going.

   It's in building bubble worlds such as these that one may learn to adopt the little trick the temporal wizards describe as 'a nightnip,' that is a moment of time stolen for one's self, it's all really a matter of the mind and how one looks at things, really. A razor's slice of time can open up a world of opportunity.  Dive down under the surface of the timestream here with me and you'll see what I mean. When time slows down to lose its original significance, this is when the universe really expands around you. Surprise, surprise to find your eyes the center of the dilating point.  

The ones who've dived the deepest and sunken to the lowest depths to hold their breaths the longest and slow down time to a bare crawl when the bubble in the mirror growing larger invites you in and once stepped inside carries you up among shafts of sunlight penetrating the aqua blue greens of the sea are reflected in the bubbles sinking away back down into the darkness of their domain.  

      Swimenumerating how it would be to be found deep down so below the lost continents of the Atlantic. To see the eye of the great whale with its pod looking back pleading in silence for an equal opportunity at life but from the other side of the undulating crystal clear waterline.  We're the additional terrestrial life. Along with a myriad other species interacting in a phenomenal symbiotic symphony of dance. Just an image reflected from under a long blown out flame from a fire put out enough winters ago to be forgotten in purpose and destiny. Running through the numbers once again in your head. The language of logic soothes one to bed. As eyelids lower over the orbs the dream powering has been enabled. 

    This is how here it is that so far away down buried in the stratospheres of history. Submerged within the unequivocal domain of the fevered brain's oh so desperately wished for final moment of escape.  We've come to season the aftertaste of this recurrent dream with just the barest hint of madness. 

  -- from The Tiktok Odyssey files left behind in a once forgotten shipwreck off the coast of the straits of Gibraltar. 

Buried under a cascalade

 

I see a horse 

  racing the wind

You see a trout leaping 

 upstream

He sees a dolphin diving 

 through whitecaps

She sees a shark carrying 

 a child's arm in its smile

Peering closer as if stopped 

  in my tracks in a hall 

 of mirrors I see clown faces 

pressed up against 

 the stained glass panels 

  arranged in cascading polygons 

 which suddenly become whales

Bluefin tuna, petroglyphs 

 of panda bears in the desert

  small families hunkered in caves 

 while a hummingsquid shoveling 

for limpets gets strung along 

 the cordoned off portals 

  of industry meanwhile 

 from the corner a ray of light 

infuses the catastrophic 

 sculpture with brass scales

  reflecting an array 

 of configurations 

suggesting the loss

of the most pearlescent

 petrified teardrops

chambers of the hive 

agglomerated in a comb 

of spicy dust the polar 

  bear in hibernation 

 incubating as a drone 

confiscated by the reflection 

 off the camera eye I see a penguin 

  sleek as a curved chevron sailing 

 over the rainbow and crying 

gigantic shifting blobs of tears 

 dropped elongating into runnels 

  left over from the burrowing 

 worms of time from the yumanitu 

the stain you couldn't find

the glass in your mind

 The flowing stream of molten

golden memories lying frozen 

  on the catapulted ground

Staring Back

 It was a scoured day. 

Windfall crisp 

with a polarized glare 

to the sunset.

The scoop of blue radiated

 around the horizon 

bleeding from indigo 

into orange black

as the stars 

winked open

In the Night-blooming Garden

by Shaun Lawton   

  In the night blooming garden where signatures crawl 

into worm holes blossoming in the moldering corners 

the moon creeps out awakening the lightning and the

orchids stand tall and bloom open their haunted eyes

take a walk in my garden on a full moon after midnight

to see what I've allowed to grow wild there are flowers

which no one has ever heard of before that would never

be permitted near a child sit down for a spell and beware

if you fall asleep the creeper vines may pull you

into their lair below where strange mushrooms

sprout and eerie patches of fungus grow  

on elm trees and glow in the dark looking 

like a crucifix death heads moth

Pay no heed to the movements in the shadows 

so long as you stay on the path of my night 

blooming garden but do pay respect

to the hallowed grounds that you walk on

for the measure of your worth may be pardoned 

 

 

 

 

colorized in DDG w/F1 sT