reaching for cobain: a dream

i am stretching out new worlds from the dust beneath my knuckles. it is arching out in front of me, upwards. i am racing slow, but steady upwards and around running through new town and countries and lifetime, new families now there for the space that has been added, new graveyards and brooks and trees and cities. i am treking down back alleys watching them roll out before me. nothing is there before i reach it. nothing is in existence until i sprawl it out three arms lengths away. i am building by seeing, creating by experiencing. there are places, i know, that must be created, must be indulged. i take hard lefts, all upward, everything is building upwards in log arching movements, but i am moving still to the left to the right all along worlds forming before me, life manifesting itself as i am close enough to see it.

i find myself levitating down these paths, no longer sordid streets as i would have thought before, no longer dark, dim perhaps, but that is all. they are only what they are.

there is flexure across the truths of things too. i am staring at blank pages in books in libraries just formed, flipping pages, watching them fill before me, watching them open and close and sotries be told, lifetimes be lived, loves be won and lost, sacrifices made, men put on crosses and wars fought with the help of god, and men wrestling angels. i am watching all thought spring forth from my wrist, simply by being there, by experienceing it knowing it loving it, knowing it can only be how it should.

i'm watching the world felsh out, i can see it now, building growing forming by the flesh of my flesh the heart of my hearts the love of my loves. my heart is pulsating and speaking lies rendered truth by creation, i know i can't stop it, wouldn't want to, shouldn't have to.

i am making spiderman movements and gestures and watching things unfold before me.

i am enterring holy buildings and sanctuaries for abused women and abortion clinics and finding only that there is newness. no hate. no disgust. no retribution. only life. only breathing and taking in of feeling emotion trees bending, giving us shade and faltering when it suits their mood.

i am watching the world envelope me, fold me into it like clean sheets and putting me into it's cabinets. at every turn at every move and thought and try at time is useless but beauitful still.

i am in concert halls and hearing brass wrapped in odd shapes build fingers from thier buttons and boxes of wood and string fold hands from their keys and i can hear it now. i can hear the soft melodies attached only to life attached only to fury and sanctuary, love and hate, murder and transcendence.

and i am in awe of it.

i am in love with the new worlds bending around me as i am given the grace to see them.

2002-11-29 | 12:10 p.m.
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