The Interstellar Tesseract


Quadrangled to infinity, love felt just like light itself, the very gravity of being in time, of existing future, past, present, plain and pure to see. I saw the fabric of our universe and its great alignment through intricate dimensions of thought. I was big I was small I lived I died all in a moment amidst the stars. The furnace raged with the searing beauty of cataclysm without end. This life, mine, yours a flickering wonder, so small so transient so divine, so devoid of anger, beyond the pale of hurt. Hold hard every single second and fly. You are in the cosmic flow already, sailing up, down, across, in, through, within a tesseract of unspeakable provenance and glory. Live, love, be…

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Opening note. Press key. Begin. Breath in. Go. All starts start with a start so here it is. Slipping, sloping downwards, racing away. Momentum. Power. Accumulation. Motion. The parabolic arc of the perpetuum mobile. Then. Energy drop – click click click – graduation. Gentle upward decline. Rolling to a stop. Sapping. Reduction. Lethargic traction. And inch. Inch. Stop. Done. Stopped. Stasis reigns again…

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May emanation be. May creation absolve. May the energy of resonance divine its vibration downwards to the roots of life. May meaning resolve our angst and purpose emerge from the cacophony of living spirit. May words deem our heartbeats glorious. May each breath resound with the ascendancy of evolving conscience. May you live free in soul, deep in contentment. May the world know your beauty, and may our good soar and sweep in auroras of truth. May knowing, may love, may peace be all and everything.

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Word as Music as Silence as Soul


Words as music – flowing, changing motifs, fluidic and seeping genetic code. Language as art – yabbering strokes of ululation sweeping emotion through my ventricle with the race and rush of finality. Sound as being – arcs of vibrating harmony embalming my flitting, fleeting attention with heady sugars, oozy, pure. Expression as knowing – notes and beats and memes and adrenalines of surfing emotions and words and passions and the desperation of dwindling time. Beat and pause and silence as the great cacophony of our yearning soul…

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Beggar in Rags


A man lay in the street like rags. The whistling cold must surely ravage his soul, his red angry skin stinging my gaze. Not for him, an idle envy or dazed commute. No self-pitying sigh of boredom, no wistful eyes on exposed cleavage. No drudge, no impatience, inward insularity banished by the vengeful calamity of defeat. He could die there where he lay, like rags, and I could die of shame. Shallow breath carries me past his begging cap and cardboard scrawl. I dare not read lest I disbelieve or lay blame straight on him. I hurry by at normal speed, slowed by the pretence of not noticing. And then by him, I am past with great relief, my guilt bellows behind like a vapour trail and I return to my vapid obsessions too quick or not quick enough. Man in the street, dead tonight perhaps and I carry on regardless…

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Immerse! Love as Interstellar Dimension


Just tiny, crepuscular, molten – this human condition, of course. Who will hoist us upwards beyond this perpetual sink? Where lies resolution absolution in the face of chaos? Questions only rebound, their lyrical thunder resoundingly unanswerable outwith our apparatus. And yet how I would immerse! in an interstellar vision of thundering evolution, a dream of hope, of human firmament, of our planted trajectory across a miraculous, curving, dusty universe, the belief in love by far the weightiest faith of all. Love, for us, a ready-made sixth dimension, a covet, a wormhole, a passage in gravity. The sheer fabric of endlessness in and around us, microfibres of time and creation forever destined to pulse and seethe, as love, and sadness, and the glory of peace lives in our prismic, joyful tears of affection.

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Infinite Glory of Music


Limbless music hit my gut with downright tremble. Tremulous cadence wrecked my tears with abstract joy, real it was, so real this pointed pointless encompassing beauty. A life without word, memeless, devoid, filled my senses. The glory of empty, of swimming tentacled amorphs in vacuous space, neon shimmers pulsing with linear abandon – purples, reds, blue flashes of eternity. This delirious monstrous exquisiteness… This universe. This timbre in arpeggiated emotions teeming with pure data and the cosmic knowledge forever unknown to our limited minds. How sumptuous and how fateful to lie, inert, folded, succumbed and bristling, listening to this stellar display of bent sound and furious light. The glory of our hopelessness forever buoyed on the twists and surges of infinite music.

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